Shameless Book Novels & Stories

Nanny Rita said it contains some cute stuff from her high school days – a phase in her life that brought her so much trauma. She breathed deep before opening the bag. It contains old slum books and a diary with broken lock. She smirked thinking that her mother could have forced to open it. She must be disappointed to see nothing juicy about the things that she wrote there. Her younger life was boring and predictable until it wasn't. In fact, each page of her diary contains almost the same events. As she randomly went through each page, she noticed a paper inserted within its pages. She almost dropped the diary upon seeing that paper from way back. It's still obvious that it was once cru

At nine o’clock the same night, I watched Isabel's live stream on my phone. She was flaunting her million-dollar Patek Philippe watch. "I tattooed the word ‘old spinster’ on that freeloading old hag. She’s thirty years old, but her skin is already all crusty. I made sure to use darker color ink so it wouldn’t come off!" The viewers in the livestream applauded what she did, which inspired her to gloat again.

His spiritual side is trembling in shame. ************* Note: Don't forget to like, comment and share the book! This really helps it grow on the platform

I whisper. This time, the tears don’t feel like weakness. They feel like healing. Like something finally beginning. ************************ Unspoken Desires - Book 3…. Coming Soon

I pee a lot, and smelling and seeing things that are sensitive to my body makes me puke. "Liam, just leave the poor girl alone." Sydney stepped in and pressed those breasts of hers on Liam's arm. "Come on. The book is a room. So we are going to have loads of fun." Loads of fun, indeed. "Just give me a minute," Liam brushed Sydney off, making her pout. "Lily, are you okay?" I scoffed.

She decided to document her journey and insights in a book—a heartfelt memoir that would serve as a guide for future generations. With great care, Luna poured her wisdom onto the pages, sharing her personal struggles, triumphs, and the profound lessons she had learned. She weaved together stories of her own experiences, anecdotes from the people she had met along the way, and the transformative power of authenticity. The book, titled "Embracing True Colors: A Journey of Authenticity," was published and received with great enthusiasm. Its impact spread far and wide, touching the lives of individuals who sought guidance and inspiration on their own paths to self-discovery.

a few hours earlier I was a fucking idiot. A ridiculous humiliation. I shouldn't have walked too deep. I knew it was a mistake to believe that something good was going to come out of this. I lay on my back in my bedroom, still dressed in my denim dress shirt. I cannot believe how stupid I was. Of course, it was merely nothing to Lucas. Just another girl to stick his dick in. I was just another woman who fit his criteria and who was fine enough to use. And used me he did. If I wasn't a woman with pride, I'd let him walk all over me because the sex was that good. But I draw the line whenever someone steps on my dignity. And Lucas did exactly that. He might as well have punched me in the gut.

There was also some other things with funny shapes ones I didn't even want to know where they went. I held the golden balls in my hand and wondered what they were for. Some of the things in here I have seen at th club and the others where just a mystery to me, I saw things I didn't even know existed. There was other things on the shelf below but I had seen enough. There was also a bookshelf with actual books in them. I took the first book I saw and read out the title, it was a book by Shayla Black called Wicked Ties. I had never even heard of the author. My phone vibrated in my pickets, I saw that it was Bradley.

“Uh… I wouldn’t know.” Celia’s breath caught. And just like that—she understood. Of course he hadn’t touched her. Not like that. Not yet. He was still grooming her. Still wearing the good-boy mask. A strange relief washed through her—twisted and ugly. He hadn’t ruined Brielle yet. “Good for you,” Celia said, slipping her lip gloss into her purse with a little click. “Hold out as long as you can. Guys like to think they own you once they’ve had you. Especially the charming ones.”

The dress and the mini case she carried at the back of the posh BMW was according to the poetic language in the little but highly publicized book. She rehearsed her salutations briefly, sadly a stammer still persisted. She wondered why, if only for the sake of the event, the stuttering wouldn’t excuse her. Then she realized her same deformity propelled her behind enemy lines and do the unimaginable things. She slowly drove into the alley, looking around for familiar faces. Kelly made it clear; his presence was going to be detrimental to the launch of the book. She was on her own, facing the reality of life. She had taken eight months to pen the most lethal weapon and concealed it in the poet