Short Novel Story Novels & Stories

" Alexa yawns. (Cooyright:The short story isn't mine. Copied it from a bedstories website. Please rate and comment.love yal.ADIOS.)

CHAPTER THREE She took solace with the books she loved. Big fat tears are dropping on the pages of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Doggedly, pushing herself to read. She needs to forget what she heard an hour ago—Chris and Lea's tragic love story, cut short by her aunt's intrusion. No wonder Lea has been cold to her. Everybody in town believes she was a snitch. Once, her young sister adored her. The big sister protects her from harm and spoils her sister with love and attention.

I stood on shaky legs and gathered my clothes, beginning to dress quickly. "So what now?" he asked, pulling on his underwear and shorts. "Now you forget my number," I said. "You never call me. You act like this never happened." "That seems unlikely," he said. "Considering I just came inside a stranger in a gym locker room. That's not exactly something you forget." "That's kind of the point," I said, pulling my shirt over my head. "This was a one-time thing. A moment. A decision we made that we'll both probably regret but that we won't regret enough to stop thinking about it."

Renata was a girl who lived very modestly in a popular neighborhood in Mexico, she lived with her parents and three sisters, one of them was already married and had done very well, she had a very strong character and was the only one who faced her father without fear of being beaten. One day when she was still living with them, she came home from work and her father was hitting her mother, she interposed herself and her father was ready to hit her too, so she said to him: "Come on, hit me, hit me, hit me, hit me, hit me, hit me, hit me, hit me, hit me, hit me, hit me, hit me, hit me, hit me:

Oswan asked. “In what are you interested?” Ortaul said. “I'm interest in anything new in the world, so nothing in particular.” “Listen then, my boy. Creates have appeared from out of nowhere.” “Creatures, you say, what kind?” “The worst, I say! Their teeth are sharp as swords; their eyes are red as blood.” “We saw them.” “Where did you?” “Not much down the road, near the miller.” “Great, finally, we can kill them.”

Hallie Shaw lived her life judging everyone with a rigid scorecard. When we were dating, she used to say that any person or event scoring below ninety points wasn't worth a second of her time. After marriage, every single thing I did was evaluated. On our wedding anniversary, I prepared a full spread of her favorite dishes. She took one bite and said, "Eighty-nine points." Then she set down her utensils and left to share a meal with Miles, who allegedly had a poor appetite. For the company's anniversary party, I tried on twenty-seven suits, only for her to glance at me and say, "Eighty-eight points. Not suitable to bring along." That very night, she walked into the celebration with Mil

A man hit by a car in New York in 1977 got up uninjured, but lay back down in front of the car when a bystander told him to pretend he was hurt so he could collect the insurance money. The car then rolled forward and crushed him I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon. You can send me your short stories for a feature if you feel like it. Thanks for reading. Enjoy!

Author's Note This book is a short compilation of erotic stories. Please note that not all entries are heavily erotic—some lean more toward emotional moments, dramatic tension, or character interaction. Also, 99% of these stories don’t follow a traditional plot, so don’t be confused if there's no clear beginning, middle, or end. They’re written more for mood, moments, and expression than full narratives. Enjoy the ride,no overthinking needed. 😉 ********************************************* Kael didn’t wait.

We never got to see how they lived happily though, but the smile in the last scene after which the The End, flew or swivelled or zoomed in, made it obvious. Nisim did tell me later that The Thief was a short story and short stories ended that way! It was five pages long, much longer than the stories in the book Deuta had gifted me on my eleventh Birthday – Aesop’s Fables – the stories in this book were never more than two pages. And always with a moral at the end. The Thief didn’t have a moral – that was the best part though – I never liked memorizing morals. But the thing was, my brother was calling the longest story I had read till then, a short story! By then, though, I had some idea of a

Chapter 2 Flashback / dream A girl is strolling through a library and after a lot of searching she got the book of her interest. She took a seat and started to read it. Suddenly a boy came and knocked her book "knock knock, may I talk with this busiest girl for a minute?" The girl removed her book from her face and asked "What do you want now?" The boy answered " I happened to know a girl named Mugdha and want her as my girlfriend. "