Sinners Anonymous Book Novels & Stories

Hell, I sinned against my husband! I sinned against the man who put me on a pedestal. The man who did nothing but loved and took care of me like I was the most fragile thing on earth. I could never believe that there would come a day that I would destroy our sacred bond. We were still in our early months of marriage. Yet there I was, hooking up with a married person. The very thought of this made me feel I was swimming in a pool of dark and slick filth. And I couldn’t dare to look at myself in the mirror. I quickened my pace until I was already running. My light footsteps echoed against the eerie silence of the hall. But before I could open the door that separated Door 13 from the rest of t

Alex snapped, his voice sharp and dripping with self-loathing. Sasha smiled, “Relax Alex. You seemed to enjoy yourself to the fullest a few moments ago, why the guilt trip, now?” “What happened here was a sin, a violation for everything I stand for.” “Oh please, spare us the sermon. You didn't seem to mind sinning, when your deep inside me and fucking me hard.” Sasha rolled her eyes. “Stop!” Alex barked, “Last night was a mistake and I'll atone for it.” Felicia sat up straight, her expression shifting to one of mock innocence. “Oh Father Alex, we didn't force you to do anything, you’ve just unleashed a side of you that you've been denying. Maybe, it's time for you to embrace it.”

Tasting the filth, the fire, the fever he wrote into every page of my skin. The next morning, a box sat on the kitchen counter. Hardcover, freshly printed. My was name on the cover—and his. ‘Yours, Uncensored.’ “Is this—?” I asked, fingers trembling over the title. “Our story,” he said behind me, pulling my robe down to bare my shoulder. “Every filthy, furious, unforgettable chapter.” “You’re insane,” I breathed. “And you love it.” He kissed the top of my spine. The back cover quote? I read it aloud.

I know you heard me. 'Yes, I heard it.' I said to him. 'I am now reading the book I got from the restricted section of the library. There is something about this book, titled The 12 Sinners: The Demon's Souls. I think there is something here we can use to defeat them. Who knows, I will start here. Just enjoy them first, dude.' I heard Hunter's voice in my head. He is talking to me. I nodded my head even though he couldn't see me.

She had a late sociology lab; I was done by one. Friday afternoons were my sanctuary. The only time the house was empty, silent, and completely mine. And I had a ritual. It started a month ago. I'd ordered my first real adult magazine online, discreetly shipped in plain packaging. 'Sinful Nights. It felt like holding contraband. This wasn't the soft-focus suggestive stuff; this was graphic, explicit, a window into a world of unapologetic lust. In our digital age, it felt strangely more intimate, more dangerous, than just pulling up a site.

The way I had smiled while something inside me recoiled. I crossed the room and pulled a familiar book from the shelf. Little Women. The spine was worn. Soft. My fingers knew it without looking. I settled into the armchair near the window and opened it to a random page. I read the same paragraph three times without absorbing a word. My thoughts kept drifting. Not to the reporters. Not to the headlines that would probably follow. To Jacob. The way he had looked at me the night before, torn between want and restraint. The way his voice had changed when he admitted he was afraid of himself. The way he touched me like I was something precious, not something to be displayed.

Little did I know, the spark was about to become a raging inferno, courtesy of something far beyond the mortal realm. It started on a rainy Friday night. I’d come home exhausted from a long week, my blouse clinging to my skin from the downpour outside. I kicked off my heels, letting them thud against the hardwood floor, and poured myself a glass of merlot. The apartment felt emptier than usual; my last girlfriend had left months ago, citing my “workaholic tendencies” as the reason. Truth be told, I missed the warmth of a body next to mine, the soft curves and whispered promises in the dark. To distract myself, I rummaged through the old box of junk in my closet— relics from my rebellious pha

Perfect. “See you soon.” He’d written it himself, fog blooming from his mouth in the cold like smoke from a sermon. She’d see it when she came home, her pretty mouth falling open in that little O of shock he used to love so much. She thought she was safe with that big bastard in her house. Cute. She thought she was strong now. Even cuter. Eden Cross had carried his sins once without even knowing it. Signed her name to accounts she’d never opened. Smiled beside him in church while his assistant—God bless Tiffany—warmed his bed after evening service.

they replied in unison, both turning to look at me at once. “Who?“ I inquired, although I suspected the answer. “The Lord of the sins,” they replied with a look of reverence and dread in their eyes. My heart trembled at their response, and I opened my mouth in awe. The Lord of the sins? I had expected them to call him “The Lord” or “Lord Draven”. I took that to heart, asking in a defensive tone and stance. “Why did you call him that?“ Their eyes darted as if they were terrified. “Because that's what he is. People say his very existence is a sin, and that was affirmed when he slaughtered hundreds of soldiers and let us live.“