Self Harm Art Novels & Stories

"I will be your mistress, Adrian. Just let my family live." Adrian lifted his glass of wine. A faint smile curved his lips. "I thought they would send me the adopted daughter," he said, "I didn't expect you." "Everyone said your brother spoiled you like a princess. Turns out that was just a joke." The tip of the pen paused, stabbing a small blot of ink onto the paper. I signed my name, calm to the point of silence. The contract would take effect in three days. Then, I would cut all ties with the Willis name. I traded myself for the survival of the Willis family and my own permanent release.

To help my surgeon husband with his erectile dysfunction, I made an appointment with an expert six months in advance. But as the day approached, Isiah Coleman canceled it without explanation. Just as I was about to call him to demand answers, I spotted a post from his female friend on her social media. My usually stoic husband was beaming as he wrapped his arms around her. The caption read: [Only I can cure your illness.] What struck me, though, was the telltale bulge in his pants in the photo—a reaction I'd never seen from him with me. With a cold laugh, I liked the post and left a comment: [What a miracle worker!] The post exploded, with everyone speculating whether I'd confront the mistress. But what awaited him after the holiday was our freshly printed divorce certificate.

My boyfriend, Jacob Torrance, claimed he hated being touched. Five years together, and all I got were stiff hand-holds and the rare side-hug. Even in bed, he kept his distance. I figured he was just emotionally shut off. Then he dropped this: he wanted a kid—with his mentor's daughter. "Take it as a sperm donation," he said. "Dr. Lynn asked me before he died. Wendy's got no one else." I smiled. "You don't have to explain. I support you." When you're over someone, there's no point fighting about what's right or wrong.

The woman got drunk and slept with an acquaintance at her high school reunion. It turned out that the man was a wealthy man who behaved rather strangely and had strange rules. Unfortunately, the woman was forced to marry him with a three-month contract. However, little did the woman know that the struggle of this contract was like a struggle in hell.

His mission was to kill her, falling for her wasn't in the plan. To enemies, he was a killing machine. To his own, a fierce shield. Emotions never mattered to him, love was just a myth he had no use for. But everything changed when death swept through the city. Werewolves were being slaughtered, one after another. And every clue pointed to one person, the quirky, loner witch named Violet. He was ordered to eliminate her. It should’ve been easy. But it wasn’t. He wasn’t supposed to fall for her. He wasn’t supposed to defy his Alpha for her. And he sure as hell wasn’t supposed to risk his life to protect that one beauty with violet eyes. ............ Her mother's betrayal didn't just hurt her; it hollowed her. She hardened her heart and strived to become a powerful witch. However, she hadn't expected to fall victim to a malicious conspiracy that almost got her killed. Armed with every spell she knew, she thought she was ready for anything. What she wasn’t ready for… was him. A black-eyed, messy-haired, fuller-lipped Beta who barged into her life and changed it like he owns it. Their story isn’t simple. It’s a tangled mess of love, pain, angst, and stolen moments of happiness. Love is beautiful when people choose it. But it's beyond messy when love chooses its victims.

Mikel Rysdale needed an escape after a devastating blow to her heart and lifestyle. The number of people she can trust can be counted on one hand. Escaping to the one place she was free, she finds the most unlikely person to lean on. In his eyes, he was a broken man incapable of rejoining society. Army Veteran Killian returns home to live on his family's land in peace. Happy to see his sister again, he wasn't prepared to welcome a guest. What started as a tolerable relationship, the two found the need to be there for each other. Old wounds are hard to heal especially the ones in your heart. “Who are you?” His question was meant to be gentle but they came out as an angry ogre. She laughed at his question. The first chord of that sweet laugh was now trapped in Killian's mind and heart. Slowly she stood up and walked towards him. She was within four steps of him and her scent was intoxicating. Vanilla and the scent of fruit he had to know of. Up close she was perfection in his eyes. Unconsciously he stepped forward wanting to be close to her for some reason. The pain, the memories none of it was on his mind. His sole focus was on her. “Name's Mikel Rysdale. You can call me Mik for short.”

At my mother's funeral, I caught my husband passionately kissing a sales associate at the local department store. When I confronted him about it, he turned the tables and accused me of being paranoid and delusional. Later, I discovered she had been calling my husband "daddy" in their text messages. The betrayal left me emotionally numb, and I decided to step aside, giving them my blessing. What I did not expect was discovering that she was not just involved with my husband—she had been sleeping around with multiple men. When my husband finally learned the truth, he came crawling back to me with tears streaming down his face, begging for forgiveness. By then, I had already moved on with my life and wanted nothing to do with him.

Liam is a runaway, who is trying to make a better life away from his abusive family, and has to continue to run

Emily Danvers is the portrait of perfection like any bride should be. Bound by blood but haunted by duty and desire. One reckless touch of ruin dares to challenge her world like a thief in the night. Sending her spiraling into a quest of lust and self discovery. Will Emily choose to shatter the chains of familiarity or be casted to the dark side forevermore in this intoxicating romance.

I accompany my husband, Michael Yates, to a stationed assignment on a remote island. Out at sea, a sudden storm hits. The ship capsizes and begins to sink. As the commanding officer, my husband gives the last life vest to his so-called godsister, Naomi Hollister. I don't cry or scream. I just watch silently as he carefully fastens the straps around her body. In my past life, I had clutched my pregnant belly and begged him for help. After a brief hesitation, he finally put the vest on me. But Naomi was swept away by the waves, and her body later washed up on shore. Only half of it remained. Michael insisted it wasn't my fault. He also said that saving me was his duty, both morally and professionally. He even took leave to stay by my side before I gave birth. But when my water broke in the dead of night, he pushed me into the sea. His eyes were bloodshot and burning with hatred. "Leah, if it weren't for you, Mimi would still be alive! Did you really have to force me to give you the vest when you were just pregnant? Couldn't you have waited a little longer? Why do you get to live? Go down there and die with her!" I drown, and fish tear my body apart. I die without even a full corpse left behind. And then, I open my eyes. I'm back on the day of the storm.