Simpsons Dog Name Novels & Stories

My name is Alaki Bea Miller-or known above: Alaki Bea X. That is what they call us, the inferior ones: X. In this world, I live under laws that declare it illegal to bear more than one blood in your veins. A legal system built on segregation by race, where mixing blood is the highest crime. In this world, I am not human. I am not a person. I am a thing, an abomination that threatens their system. His name is Efrem Mustafin, leader of one of the five Rings, Master of his race, and the man who saved my life. Legally, he owns me. To save me, he had to claim me as property. And in exchange for my protection, we play a game. One where I submit to him before watching eyes, and he keeps me safe. Master Efrem Mustafin, he is. Subject Alaki Bea X, I am. Or at least, I was. I belong to him. My name is Alaki Bea Mustafin, and in this world, I Am Mustafin.

"Why are you me?" I demanded, my hand reaching to wipe my lips. "Jessica..." He called me by that name again. "Can you stop calling me that? I am not Jessica." I corrected him, exasperated. "My name is—" __ What would Lillian do when she gets by a stranger on the way to the slaughterhouse? For three years, she had been married to Dustin, a monster, disguised as a husband. In the third year, he attempted to destroy her life. He hurled divorce papers at her and wanted her kidney for his lover. On the way to the slaughterhouse, she met Alexander who swore to protect her with his life. And when he her, he called her a name she had never heard before. But Dustin came crashing on them again, was he able to protect her? Alexander loved another woman in Lillian’s image. What would he do when he found out the woman he loved, wasn't Lillian. Was Lillian bound to be cast aside again?

I was twelve when Henry Shaw took me home from the orphanage, gave me a new name, put me through school, and gave me a good life. Ten years later, his first love returned from abroad. Her name sounded like mine, and her face looked like a mirror image. I quickly realized I had been a stand-in all along. Crushing the diagnosis in my pocket, I decided that I was going to live the rest of my life for myself, even if I did not have much time left.

Georgia Brooks, the notorious, troublesome tomboy is the caretaker of Clark Brown, the mysterious, cold man who is an undercover billionaire. Georgia's motive is to uncover him and just make him happy. But what when secrets are revealed and the badass tomboy is close to tears? Join them on this rocky road of adventures which includes their occasional fights and revenge, stolen kisses, trip to a circus, journey to England, landing in jail and much more! Excerpt from a chapter : His lips curled in disdain and just when he was about to unwrap the towel, I quickly turned around showing my back to him. What the fucking hell? What if I saw his thing? "Don't you care? Like honestly, couldn't you just order like your usual self to get the hell out of your bedroom or just . . . turn around for you to change? You could have at least warned me that you were freeing your willy, I would have closed my eyes!" I rambled and felt myself feeling all jittery again. He didn't reply and I could mentally picture him scoffing or rolling his pretty eyes. A part of me which never saw a grown man's buddy down there was curious as to how it looked. Was it really long and monstrous like a huge sausage they describe in erotic scenes? Was it soft like a banana or hard like a radish? Was is it like spring that when you poke it, it would go wagging like a dog's tail? A teeny little peek would do no harm . . .

Three years after I died, my mother sent me twenty dollars for living expenses. Three years before that—the first time I ever asked my family for money—she said to me, offhand, "Sometimes I think you're just putting on an act. What's so unsanitary about a thirty-cent boxed meal? And why can't you wear a five-dollar down jacket? Face it, you're just more high-maintenance than your little brother." Later, when I needed twenty dollars to buy some cheap medicine for my stomachache, she blocked me immediately and cut off all contact—along with every relative we had. "Don't contact me anymore. I'm clearly not a good mother. I can't afford to give my son a life of luxury." But for my younger brother, who had just started high school, she spared no expense—renting him a three-bedroom apartment. Even the family dog got its own room. In the end, on the day my brother became the top scorer in the state, she finally remembered me. She took me off her block list and transferred twenty dollars. "It's only twenty dollars. Was it really worth giving your family the silent treatment for three whole years?" What she never knew was this— On the night my stomach ruptured, three years ago, I had already died. I couldn't afford to go to the hospital. I froze to death in the snow.

Married for five years, Lorenzo, the underboss of the Moretti family, had never been without a woman. He found my “noble lady” posture stiff and vanilla. Dancers from Trinacria, headliners from the city’s nightclubs, his rotating stream of mistresses could fill the entire estate. Yet whenever I was displeased, whether it was throwing drinks or kicking someone out, Lorenzo never intervened. He’d only lit his cigar with casual amusement and said, “Relax. It’s just fun. No one can touch your position.” Then a clumsy, naive maid appeared. Unlike the others, she wasn’t flashy. However, when Lorenzo returned, bloodied, she’d hand him a cup of warm tea, her eyes red-rimmed. She watched him with pure admiration while he handled the family business. Lorenzo said the estate felt cold and lifeless except for her. He said only when she panicked did he feel like a hero being needed, rather than just a husband in a political marriage. Until she accidentally broke an antique vase left by my mother… Before I could react, Lorenzo stepped in and shielded her trembling form, glaring at me as if I were the enemy. “What’s wrong with you? If you’re crazy, go see a shrink. Don’t scare her like a rabid dog!” Watching his careful, protective expression, I smiled. I guess it was time for the Moretti family underboss to be replaced.

The moment I was born, my mother implanted a chip in my brain and began shaping me into her idea of a perfect daughter. She blocked my sense of hunger so I would only have simple meals daily to maintain the "ideal" figure. She erased my ability to feel pain so she could inject me with endless chemicals to keep my skin smooth and flawless. She tampered with my senses, deleting every trace of negative emotion from my mind, all so I could remain eternally innocent. I couldn't tell right from wrong. I didn't know sadness or anger. I only knew how to smile. When the neighbor's dog died, I smiled and was scolded harshly for being heartless. When my classmates bullied me, I smiled and became the class freak. When my grandfather passed away, I smiled again, and my relatives cursed me for being soulless. Eventually, my father couldn't take it anymore. He left us. Mom, however, didn't seem to care. "They don't understand," she told me. "Everything I've done is for your own good. One day, you'll thank me." … On my 18th birthday, she planned a grand live broadcast, ready to show the world her perfect creation. She never knew that the day before her grand broadcast, I had already lost myself completely. By then, I was no longer human. I had become a machine.

Delilah Ekalot heir to the Ekalot household wakes up from a coma having no memory of her husband due to an accident that almost claimed her life. However it isn't focused on what caused the accident, Delilah ventures down a path to clear down the debt her sister racked up during her coma. She comes across a few obstacles along the way and would risk anything to save the Ekalots name, will it be worth it fighting for her family's name ? When the people she knows and loves turns out to be her Adversaries

She felt like a caged bird. A bird that was meant to fly the high, blue skies, but was trapped like a prized possession for her master to impress others with. Ava is the daughter of a very powerful man in the underworld. Her blood, her family name makes her a tool for others to gain more power. Greedy men want her for her name, not for who she is. Being locked up all her life in her father's house makes her naïve and ignorant of the outside world. Meaning the greedy men have an easy game to play.

The injured Shadow was thrown into the novel made by her best friend's fiance, unwillingly. When she opened her eyes, a high graphic game-like message flickered in front of her eyes. [{Welcome mortal} - Register name: Shadow - Gender: handsome lady - Code name: SS50 - Title: The Emperor of the Underworld. - Height: 150cm (short)] After she received the bizarre message from supposed trusted companions, the sense of betrayal messing up her whole system, driving her tired mind to the beyond insanity. And she knew she was done for.