Shiver Book Novels & Stories

Knees weak, breath short, pussy squeezing my fingers like it was mad it wasn’t getting the real thing. I ain’t look away. Ain’t stop. Just stood in the shadows fingering myself stupid to their nasty show, heat building till I felt like I’d blow. This wasn’t watching no more. This was me taking what the fuck I wanted, the pleasure, power, zero shame. Every drop.

Andrew suddenly sat up and gasped for air as if a massive weight had pressed down on his chest, making it hard for him to breathe. He hurried downstairs and ran out of the villa. Being surrounded by everything that reminded him of me was like pouring salt into his wounds. He could hardly bear the pain. Andrew sat at the door, his gaze vacant, as if his soul had been lost. … Meanwhile, thousands of miles away, I was enjoying the rare beauty of the ice plains. I looked up at the mountain peak in the distance, where golden sunlight pierced through thick clouds, casting a soft glow on the snow-covered summit.

[This chapter contains mature content‼️, please skip if you are uncomfortable reading it.] Lucas Hayes pushed her towards his bedroom with so much urgency. He pushed her towards the wall as his hands grabbed her boobs. He was too rough in his actions. Elaina Moore was mourning loudly from the pleasure she was receiving. He pushed her on the big bed and then tore her dress into shreds.

His mouth begins to kiss down my body, the flogger hitting across my arse again. The feel of something cold running along my body as he kisses down my chest, he stops at my naval the cold item still sliding down and pushing against my clit, a slight scream escaping my mouth from the shock as he continues sliding it down, his fingers pushing it inside my sex, the ice melting and cooling me from inside.

My heart is beating so fast, it is like a hummingbird in my chest. He growls as the whip swings down, and I scream from the shock, enjoying the pain but waiting for more. As the whip swings down again, I hear the sound of the air around it. I scream as it hits, leaving a sting, not enough to make me want him to stop, but it hurts slightly.

This time, he came to destroy. --- It started with a headline. Killian had just stepped into the entrance of the shelter when he heard the buzz — biting whispers, horrified gasps. Janine rushed to him, phone outstretched, her face pale. "You need to see this," she whispered, shaking. Killian took the phone. The article stared back at him, the bold letters screaming: **"Blackwood's Dirty Secrets: From Criminal Empire to Philanthropist Fraud"** He read the words once. Then again. And again.

And the hand-drawn pictures showed magnificent animals, sometimes poised on a rock in the moonlight, other times racing through woods. The first chapters of the book were devoted to the history of shifters and the explanation of the Slavic term for them, vlkodlak. Now why did that suddenly sound familiar to her? Of course! Her neighbor, Mike Volka. He'd said his ancestry was Slavic. Was that the reason for his interest in werewolves? She needed to get the book out again and get back into it. She replaced what she called her library clothes with sweats and a long-sleeved tee shirt, leaving off her bra, a treat she gave herself in the privacy of her own home. Then she fed Mischief, fixed herse

“He's a Shape Shifter, isn't he?” She might have whispered the words, but I felt the slime of dread deep in my heart. My palms started to sweat at her bluntness and I felt like cornered animal. “W-What?” I stammered, hoping I just heard her wrong. “That dog. He's a Shifter, isn't he?” My hands started to tremble, so I clasped them in front of me. Nope, I heard her right. “What are you talking about?” “It's okay, I'm just asking.” She thrusts her hand at me. “I'm Nina.”

The Edge of Shadows The bitter wind howled through the ruined valley, carrying with it the scent of ash and despair. Saraphina tightened her grip on John’s trembling hand, feeling the coldness seeping through his skin. The chasm beneath them pulsed with an eerie blue flame that danced like restless spirits trapped between worlds. Around them, the remnants of a once-majestic temple lay in shattered ruin, broken pillars and scorched stone telling silent stories of betrayal and bloodshed.

I shouted. "Yeah, I did good." She wiggled her hips, after that giving me a high-five. "What kind of book is it?" I grimoire,” my lips tugged downward. Her brown eyes were framed with white. "A grimoire, as in what witches use?" I nodded slowly. "Yeah." "Oh, my God. Shifters are real. Witches are real. That means...aliens are, too. Ah!" Her scream set my nerves on fire, and I growled, grappling her around the shoulders. "Get yourself together, Miss Vargas."