Sob Cry Novels & Stories

Sixteen-year-old Rithanya can’t wait to go to boarding school and follow her dream of entering the Armed Forces Medical College. A far cry from the busy city life in her hometown of Bangalore, the strict, rural boarding school has strange rules and a stringent way of life for the students. Rithanya quickly settles in, making friends and enjoying her new life away from her sometimes overbearing family. But it isn’t all fun and games. The hostel food is intolerable and Rithanya starts to feel the pressure of her intense studies. She has terrible nightmares of failing her exams and disgracing her family, and her poor diet isn’t helping. The drudgery of capsuled academic studies, stringent rules, unpalatable food and the rat race for perfection triggers depression and an attack of psychosis of unimaginable magnitude in her mind. Once a bright and carefree girl, she falls into a terrible mental state of overwork and anxiety. Her deteriorating condition is of great concern to her family. Can Rithanya get better and continue her studies, or will the overwhelming pressure and her deteriorating mental health threaten to spoil her future plans?

“Valerian!” a cry came from outside and my feet rushed to the door, my body having recognised the voice before my brain could comprehend what was happening. I yanked the door open and almost broke down crying at the sight before me, “Queen Lyla!” Bethany gasped from behind me. I scooped her into my arms, my eyes searching for any unwanted presence before rushing her into the living room. “Valerian put me down, we don’t have much time!” she rushed out the command as she struggled to get down. Silently obeying, I put her down, taking note of how she looked and it wasn’t pretty. Her hair, that was always neatly made, looked like a bird’s nest; twigs and leaves hanging from the knots. Her long white sleeping robe dirty and bloody from her waist down, she looked a royal mess; with a bunch of blankets wrapped around her upper half. “My Queen, what happened?” Beth asked as she handed me my medicine bag.

“Now listen to me carefully, Energia,” “This, is mine.” he said with his hands brushing my mouth. “This, is also mine.” I watched as his hands move down to touch my ass. My breathing quickened and just at that moment, in between my thighs dripped wet. “Did I forget to say this?” My mouth parted in shock as his hands reached through my joggers, cupping my sex. “Getting too excited, are we?” With a half-smirk, he asked. He then took my lips again. He softly bit it, making me cry out in pleasure. “And, this.” he murmured, with my breasts in his hand. He pinched the nipple and rubbed them softly with his thumb. “In fact, all of you. And, I refuse to share it with anyone at all. You are mine, Energia. Mine and mine only,” *** A sassy stripper named Serena. A ruthless Lycan Alpha named Luca. What happens when these two different people are brought together by the Moon Goddess? How about when two different enemies from both sides come forward with a quest to ruin them all? It's all a game. A game of the Mafias, Lycans, Hybrids, Witches and Elves.

My husband used to love me so much. Back then, he proposed 99 times just to marry me. It wasn't until the 100th proposal that I was finally moved by his persistence and became the envied Mrs. Frederick Morrison of Harbor City. On our wedding day, I gave him 99 reconciliation vouchers. We agreed that as long as these vouchers weren't used up, I would stay by his side forever. … It's been five years since then. Every time Frederick goes out to see another woman, he uses up one reconciliation voucher. Gradually, he suddenly notices that I've changed. I no longer cry or beg him to stay. Only when he loses his mind over his innocent secretary again do I quietly ask him, "Frederick, if you don't come back tonight, can I use a reconciliation voucher?" He pauses mid-step, then immediately turns. "Of course." He thinks he still has many reconciliation vouchers. He doesn't realize this is his last one.

Before my wedding, my vision which I lost after saving Bruce unexpectedly returned. Overjoyed, I hurried to share the wonderful news with him, but as I stepped into the living room, I froze. Bruce and my cousin, Kerry, were in a passionate embrace. "Bruce, the baby is perfectly healthy now. The doctor said we can sleep together again! Why don't we do it right here in the living room? Also, isn't it thrilling to do it here while Nancy is asleep in her room?" "Shut up! Don't joke about my wife like that!" Bruce snapped at her, but his reprimand was accompanied by a kiss. I stood there, watching in shock as their movements grew more intense and their breathing became heavier. Only then did I piece it all together. Their sudden shared enthusiasm for indoor workouts six months ago wasn't about fitness at all. Covering my mouth to stifle a sob, I turned back to my room and shut the door. I decided then and there: Bruce didn't need to know I had recovered. Reaching for my phone, I dialed my mother. "Mom, I'm not marrying Bruce anymore. I'll marry the comatose heir of the Blakes instead. I don't need Bruce in my life."

Night Stalker Series 1 It all started with a hit on my face. You see, I’m rich, a club owner and women fill in line to have a little taste of me. Until a certain devastatingly gorgeous brunette shows me that I won’t always get what I want. She challenges me that no woman ever did. The fact that she’s off-limits, I should have stopped with my little games, but I took things too far. Eventually, she becomes my addiction. I start to feel something—something so deep that I’ve never felt before, but I just couldn’t help myself. One night with her is not enough. I need to have her again. He’s an arrogant, narcissistic, and condescending SOB who gets under my skin. There's no denying that he’s attractive. But things have to change now—he shouldn’t always get what he wants because he says so. I also can't deny the fact that I’m deeply drawn to him. I start to feel something that scares me. So I give in and one thing leads to another. Until I realize that despite being a pretty face playboy, Pyke has flaws with a huge heart that capable of caring for someone like me.

I plan a family trip at my mother Lucia Sweeney's request. While avoiding the danger zones, my sister Linda Harper and I are ambushed by rogues. To protect her, I throw myself in the path of their claws and get driven into a silver mine. As I fall, my back is slashed open to the bone, and shards of silver embed deep into my right leg. The searing silver poison spreads quickly, burning through me and my wolf. My wolf is whimpering—she's close to death. However, as the pack's chief healer, Mom gathers all the healers around Linda to give her a full check-up over a few minor scrapes. I sob and beg her to save me first. "Mom, the poison has almost reached my heart. I can't hold on anymore." She turns around impatiently and yells, "Are you seriously still fighting with Linda now? Do you have any idea how close she came to getting clawed in the face by a silver claw? Our pack doesn't have a wolf as heartless as you!" And in that moment, I hear my wolf's final whimper, saying goodbye. I finally fall asleep in the cold wind, never waking up again.

"Whose child is this?" His voice was cold and icy, blood shot eyes drilling holes in her watery ones. Scared, she cowered back only for her back to met the wall. A sob of pure horror left her parched throat, her hands lifting up to shield her already bruised face. "I asked," He stepped dangerously closer to her, his hot breath fanning the back of her hands. His sandalwood scent which used to calm her nerves in past, today did nothing other than heightening her fear. "Whose." His rough hands yanked her soft ones from her face, before clasping her jaw tightly, his fingers digging in her bruised skin making her wince. "Child" He whispered deadly, leaning down till his stern lips were brushing over her quivering ones. Tears after tears dripped down her cheeks. "Is in your stomach?" His already tight hold had tightened in bruising manner, making her flinch hard. Her head began to spin in fright, darkness invading her vision. Her heart pleading for some miracle. That wasn't the first question, her husband was supposed to ask her on her wedding night.

In the Beast World, elven bloodlines can produce stronger half-breed offspring. After the Great War of the Ancient Races, elves began to classify themselves by the integrity of their wings. Substandard elves could purchase and tame werewolves to serve as their lifelong guards and companions. Before my parents passed away, they ordered a werewolf named Nolan to protect me—and, incidentally, to produce offspring. But that werewolf, who was exceptional in every way, despised me intensely. He would often berate me: “A deformed, worthless elf like you should just disappear. You’re not fit to be my mate!” After he smashed every item in the house yet again, I fled the house in a panic. By chance, I stumbled into an abandoned shelter, where a massive gray wolf’s paw reached out from the shadows and gripped my shoulder. The werewolf’s deep, golden eyes gestured for me to look at the sign standing nearby: ‘Defective Models: Trade -In Welcome.’ Tears welled in his eyes as a low, choked sob escaped his throat: “Master… take me home.” He was right. It was time to replace the one at home with a new one. But when I told Nolan to move out of my house, he braced his paws against the doorframe, his eyes red-rimmed: “You’re abandoning me just for that wild wolf?”

When I went to buy a new house, all I found was crumpled newspaper where my savings should've been. I almost called the cops—until I found out Tony Jarrett, my own husband, had blown seven years of my hard-earned cash on a shiny new motorcycle. For Pauline Schmidt. His ex. I asked why. He just shrugged. "She's a single mom. Life's tough. This way, she won't have to walk so much." I wanted to scream, but I swallowed it down. Made him at least get an IOU from her. While I was busy sourcing stuff for the factory, a flood warning hit our town. And Tony? Out buying toy cars with Pauline and her kid. Our son was home alone, trying to stay above water. I was back. Like life hit rewind and dropped me into that exact day. The day he gave her the motorcycle. I saw them—laughing, tight, like their own little picture-perfect family. But I didn't cry this time. Didn't beg. Just turned and walked off.