Short Poem About Myself

I'm admitted to the hospital for gastritis, but my boyfriend shoots to his feet after receiving a call. "Chelsea has a fever. I'll go check on her; I'll be right back!" He runs off without waiting for me to say anything and doesn't return for the rest of the night. That night, I see a short clip that Chelsea Calloway has shared. "I'm not afraid of any illness with you by my side." I comment, "He is pretty good at caring for others."

Forbidden fruits have always tasted the sweetest and one deliciously tempting bite is all it takes to reel you in. Filthy, Dirty Desires is a collection of short, steamy and graphically explicit stories perfect for readers searching for a temporary escape into a wild, pleasure-filled world where you can be whomever you want to be with zero judgements attached. Each story spans across three to five chapters with raw, undiluted smut. Due to the volume of explicit content in this book, it is not suitable for readers under the age of 18.

WARNING: mature content ahead. If you are below 18years, please abstain from reading this story. If you find the content unsuitaitable for you, don't continue reading. DARK DESIRES: Forbidden romance stories is a collection of short steamy stories. Let's explore those toe-curling sensations together. Forbidden things tend to be more fun, right? if you agree with me, join me in this journey. NB: This work is not a sole creation but a partnership between two authors. Author Winnie Wamae and Redbutterfly

Adrian Quirrel, the heir to the Quirrel family, had been in poor health since childhood. Guided by the old superstition that marriage could restore his health, his family had taken in four young women, with only one to be chosen as his bride. On the selection day, they invited a renowned astrologer to read our birth charts. As soon as he said I carried a healing energy and could bear healthy heirs, the Quirrels decided on the spot that I would be Adrian's bride. Three months later, his health miraculously improved, and I soon found myself pregnant with twins—a boy and a girl. The family elders were ecstatic and even promised that my son would become the Quirrels' future heir. But on the night of the christening, Adrian locked me and the babies in the basement. I broke down and demanded an explanation. He sneered and replied, "If it weren't for your so-called 'healing energy,' Emily would've been my wife. "She wouldn't have jumped to her death at such a young age if she hadn't been pushed to that point. Tonight, I want you and your children to accompany her in death." He grabbed a nearby iron rod and savagely brought it down onto our babies. I threw myself over the babies, but Adrian kicked me aside. Blood splattered across the walls and floor, and my babies' breathing gradually weakened until it stopped. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Adrian chose his bride.

"I didn’t know I was marrying two people. He wore the suit, but she pulled the strings. The day I walked down the aisle, eyes locked with the man I loved, I thought I had found peace. I thought I was finally leaving behind the noise of my childhood, the ache of loneliness, and the years I spent praying for a love that would choose me, only me. But no one told me that some men never truly leave their mothers. They marry, yes,but their hearts remain tangled in an invisible umbilical cord, one that stretches past vows, past bedrooms, past boundaries. I moved into our new home, only to find that the walls had ears, hers. We lived in separate flats, but it never truly felt like my space. My marriage was a room she walked into, uninvited but ever present. Her opinions dripped into our arguments, her eyes followed me from behind lace curtains, and her voice echoed in decisions that should have belonged to me and my husband. At first, I kept quiet. I told myself it was cultural. Respect. Family. Then I told myself it was temporary. Then I stopped telling myself anything at all, because nothing I said made a difference. This is not a story of hate. It’s a story of love, tested by bloodlines, boundaries, and a battle I never asked to fight. This is my truth. The marriage I thought was mine. The home that never really felt like home. And the rules I never agreed to, but had to live by, simply because… I was under her roof".

On our tenth wedding anniversary, I made a special trip to the salon to have my hair done. While settling the bill, I noticed an extra charge on my account. It was a coloring and perm package. Judging by the price, it was a package meant for waist-length hair. Mine had been cropped short for seven or eight years. I called my husband, Jason Moore. "Have you used my salon membership card recently?" There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before he laughed lightly, "Oh, I lent it to Quincy a few days ago." Quincy Hahn was his business partner, a fine arts student with long hair. She treasured her natural curls more than anything. She would never be willing to dye or perm it. More importantly, her elder sister was a major shareholder of this salon. Why would she ever need to use my card? I said nothing more and ended the call. Then, I headed straight to a location displayed on my phone. In the cafe, a long-haired lady was nestled in Jason's arms. Her freshly permed curls were soft and bouncy, framing her blushed face with certain demureness. Jason had always complained that my short hair made me look rough and manly. I lacked gentleness and charm. It seemed this long-haired lady suited his tastes perfectly.

Edith Sherwood is an orphan girl who is strict and idealistic. She ran for chairman of the student committee at her school. Her path to victory is cut short when Edith discovers that she is nine months pregnant. How did that happen? Edith was the only ordinary human being, as she knew herself. She went to a special school for werewolves. Edith hasn't gone through puberty for the past 5 years and thinks she's fine. Who would have thought that a one-night stand with Seth Tinley McKirby, a popular bad boy at her school, would lead to her anomalous pregnancy? --- "For what? I don't want to deal with you anymore, Seth! So go and leave me alone, and then just assume that nothing has ever happened between us!" Edith snapped. "I will be responsible. You are pregnant, and the child in your womb is my child." "I really hate you, Seth!" Seth felt awry. "I want to set something straight. Edith, I love you, and I will wait until you give all of your heart to me," Seth insisted. --- The anomalous pregnancy leads Edith to the truth about her identity. Her past and supernatural abilities are slowly revealed, leading Edith to her destiny with Seth and their baby. How can she improve her destiny?

First Book of the ' Second Chance séries ' Jasmine's life was tragically cut short by the man she had admired for years. After enduring years of suffering, he cruelly pushed her off a cliff, sending her into the arms of death. However, fate had other plans for her soul, as it encountered a gracious woman who offered her a second chance at life. In this new chapter, Jasmine is determined to take back everything that was stolen from her by Carl Lawson, the very man who had taken so much from her. But during her mission of vengeance, she finds comfort and affection in a man who never left her side. **** She tenderly asked, "Honey, you look tired, should I give you a massage?" Her smile radiates warmth and beauty as she stands before him in a captivating red lace nightgown. His gaze intensifies as he harbors suspicions about her true intentions. Is this woman looking for trouble? He knows that a mere touch from her could lead to a passionate encounter. Without a word, he draws her closer, capturing her luscious lips in a passionate kiss. Between their intertwined lips, he whispers, "Do my lips taste like honey, or should I savor you like an exquisite chocolate, that's scarcely found in the market?"

Jacklyn Chisholm is successful young woman who works for the New York Police Department as a forensic photographer. When Jacky found out about the possibility of the people she calls her parents not being her parents, She, who'd spent her whole life investigating other people was forced to start an investigation on herself. The investigation that had her journey to the past and brought her a shocking revelation to who she really was. She surprisngly found herself in a whirlwind romance with two guys, One is Jake,a colleague from work and the other Tyrone, a guy who works for a Financial house. Jacky's happiness was short lived after her biological father, was found dead in his Work House, While everyone speculated suicide, It was left to her to prove to the world that her father hasn't killed him but was murdered. Would she be able to prove to the world he hadn't committed suicide when it would mean endangering her life? What happens when enemies from the past began to threaten her and sins of the past are unravelled? How far can Jacky go to bring justice to her late father and the people that has been hurt by these bad men? Crime and suspense filled. Would Jacky ever get justice for her father?

I never believed in second chances. Not after Cynthia. She was my confidant… until death tore her from me and left this mansion echoing with ghosts. Inilibing ko na rin ang puso ko kasabay ng pakamatay ni Cynthia . She was my wife. My peace. My mistake. Then her daughter moved in. Liza. The forbidden reminder of everything I shouldn’t want—young, alive, reckless in ways her mother never was. She looks at me like she sees through the monster I’ve become. Sa tuwing ngingiti siya,  the ache in my chest returns—violent, dangerous, hungry. Every brush of her skin ignites something I can’t bury anymore. I tell myself it’s guilt. I tell myself I’m just protecting her. Pero ang totoo? I want her. Hindi bilang stepdaughter. Not as Cynthia’s child. I want her as mine—completely, ruinously, irredeemably mine. They’ll call me a sinner. A man who crossed the line. Ngunit sa tuwing tinitingnan ako ni Liza, trembling, wanting... I knew I’d already crossed it. I tell myself I’m protecting her, but each night, the lie weakens. Because when she looks at me, it isn’t fear I see—it’s want. And God help me... I want her too. This isn’t love. It’s a beautiful disaster. And I’d burn the world just to feel her breathe my name again.