Sinful Ink Novels & Stories

As the hours passed by, he was appreciating the absorption of words of wisdom into his way of thinking. He found himself reading and re-reading certain phrases. "For I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more. Hebrews 8:12." Rye memorized the words until it felt imprinted on his heart and mind. "Then he adds: Their sins and lawless acts I will remember no more. Hebrews 10:17."

Mia Dawson has me crawling back to the bottle in days. This woman has no clue about the power she held over me. ****

The name that I hate with every fiber in my body. 'Devin'

Melina stumbled backward, her eyes widening in shock as she tripped over a small stool, its surface cluttered with bottles of ink. A sharp cry of pain escaped Melina's lips as she struggled to stand, her face contorted in agony. Ink stained her once pristine dress, marring her appearance. A cascade of emotions washed over her, mingling with the throbbing ache in her body. Gazing up at Daphne, Melina's voice quivered with a mix of pain, suspicion and confusion. "Wait, Daphne, why are these bottles of ink in your room? They are always in the library and I know writing ain't your thing. What is that ink doing here?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine perplexity.

The sound of her harsh breathing thunders through my veins and I swear our hearts sync. Normally I would tell a person to relax. Not because I care, but because it’s what you do when someone’s in your chair—or bed as the case is now. I don’t want her to relax, though. I want this to fucking hurt. I want her to feel every fucking needle prick as I mutilate her lovely skin. I want to penetrate her skin further than I should and watch the colors bleed into her flesh. I want my ink to be as ugly as what they did to Cindy. I want the beauty of my art to be the most wicked thing ever created so her brother knows true fear. This piece will say I’m coming for him next.

Deep inside the pattern, where the stone was thinnest, warm light leaked through. Selina lifted the coupe and drank. The house gin was soft, the tonic bitter and clean, the lime a small bright plot twist. She put the glass down and watched the cove churn. She could feel it, a restless ribbon under her calm. It had followed her across continents, from a neat desk, from a careful life. A need to step over a line that no one else would see. A match struck on the other side of the screen. The rasp was intimate, the glow an orange coin in the dark. A man’s voice followed, low and accented, as if the vowels had been dipped in smoke.

She replied, "The red ink pen in the office." I started laughing harder. "You mean the indelible red ink pen in the office that will not come off." She looked horrified and then started laughing hysterically. "Just please fuck me good for my attempt to be creative." I did. Brittney's personality always kept me off balance. Most people have a business face and a personal face. Brittney's was more than that. One day I bought three yellow roses from a peddler at a stoplight. When Brittney came home the roses were in a small crystal vase on the kitchen table.

Season 2 Synopsis of Sinful Escape By DB Novels She was betrayed. Framed. Broken. Now she’s reborn. After surviving the ultimate betrayal by her husband and lover, Sera Carter sheds her name, her face, and her past—emerging from prison as the ruthless and mysterious Arianna Vale. Love? That word died the day Raven and Ethan kissed in front of her cell. Now, she doesn’t trust. She doesn’t feel. She seduces, manipulates, and destroys. Every man she kisses, every deal she makes, every move she plans—is fueled by a single burning desire:

A sharp knock on her door yanked Selena from her reverie. "Ms. Vasquez?" a hesitant male voice called through the door. "Mr. Xavier says it's time to leave." Selena sighed, setting down her lipstick. "I'll be right there," she called back, giving herself one final appraisal in the mirror. The crimson gown she wore was a statement of defiance—blood-red and daring, with a neckline that plunged just low enough to be remembered, and a slit that revealed a tantalizing glimpse of leg when she walked. Her dark hair cascaded in loose waves down her back, adorned with a single diamond clip that caught the light when she moved. If she was to be Xavier's trophy tonight, paraded before the criminal elit

“He would believe it.” “Of course he would.” My eyes gleamed. “Because he already wants to.” I moved to my desk, pulling a drawer open. Inside lay sealed vials, each filled with a different ink — some tainted with Seraphin blood, others with shadow essence. I selected one, the red glinting faintly in the candlelight. “This,” I said, holding it up, “is how we bind truth to lies. Even a Lord’s gaze cannot tell the difference when the blood sings the right note.”