Sound Fruit Novels & Stories

“Breathe,” I muttered to myself as I walked down the aisle, bouquet in hand, scanning the few people seated, people I barely knew, but the groom was nowhere in sight. Panic set in. My heart skipped a beat. Was I about to be ditched on my wedding day? I could already picture what the headline would be : Daughter of Late CEO of Nova White Robotics Abandoned at the Altar. Not only would I be disgraced, but my chances of taking over the company would slip away, and my enemies? Well, they would dance and jubilate. Just as I was about give up, I heard the sound of hasty footsteps. The crowd turned and gasped in shock as Mason appeared, looking dashing in a sharp three-piece crisp suit. His piercing blue eyes locked onto mine. “Sorry, I’m late. My suit didn’t arrive on time,” he said with an apologetic smile. I nodded and the priest began reading the vows, he turned to me and asked, "Will you take Mr. Mason Anderson as your lawfully wedded husband, to love and protect?" I tried to speak, but the words stuck in my throat. I just stood there, lost in confusion, unsure if this was the right choice.

⚠️⚠️Warning!⚠️⚠️ Contents of this book contains STRAIGHT, LESBIAN and GAY sex. If you're not into all three, I’d advise you to stop here. But if you love them all…then I dare you to read these hot stories without craving forbidden pleasure. ~~ “You want that, don't you?” Rocco asked, pinching my left nipple through my top as he rubbed himself against my thighs. A helpless sound escaped my lips, my lungs now begging for air under his chokehold. He pinched my nipple once more, cupping my boob in a tight squeeze. I whimpered, both from the pressure on my neck, and the teasing on my nipples. “No baby. Use your words,” he instructed, his hand moving to my right boob. When Thalia–an assassin–was sent to murder her latest target, she expected a quick mission. She didn't expect to be in bed with the man she was meant to destroy. Caught between duty and desire, one mistake could cost her everything. Because if her boss finds out… She won't live to tell the story. In this erotic collection, pleasure is dangerous and survival? Never guaranteed.

Alena Sabine Florence, now an aspiring drummer, was originally inspired by the young prodigy of a guitarist boy when she was a kid. Driven by the desire to play music with him someday, she chose to take on the path of a complex lifestyle and thrived hard to be as good as she could with the drums. She had never stopped hoping to meet the boy again. She thought, that as long as she kept working hard to make a name for herself, they will eventually meet again. So, when an opportunity has risen; a way to challenge her skills came, she joined her friend’s indie band. However, fate seemed to work way more twisted than she expected, because when her greatest wish came true, it didn’t bring her joy as she imagined. The boy she considered an unreachable star, was stuck in a nameless local indie band. Furthermore, his sound doesn’t resonate the joy of making music, or love for music anymore. He just sounded bland, flat, and boring. Just another typical story of a bright, hopeful girl, and the lackluster, musical genius boy. Except, it ain’t typical. Hear thy heart’s rhythm; a search for a melodious love.

I gave up a vast fortune to be with my boyfriend Terrence. In our poorest days, we didn't even have a single grain of rice at home. Terrence went out to fight in underground rings, never surrendering once even when he was beaten black and blue. With his blood and sweat, he paved the path to our future brick by brick. In the present, his name was uttered with an undeniable tone of respect, while I was known far and wide as his missus, the woman he treasured above anyone or anything. One year, when I left the country because of a family emergency, I learned that he even started seeing a therapist due to separation anxiety. Everyone said that Terrence loved me more than life itself, and I had believed it too, wholeheartedly. Until I stood on our balcony, watching him tightly embracing another woman in the villa next door. "Even though Tanya is back, the very thought of losing you makes me lose control… I can't live without you, Mia… "If any other men ever appear by your side, I might just end up killing them…" His voice was a low rumble, tinged with a sort of unconscious madness. "B-But what about your wife? Didn't you say that she means more to you than your own life?" "Well, we just have to keep this hidden better, don't we? I want to always be with you…" My hand trembled, and I accidentally cut my hand with the fruit knife I was holding, but I felt no pain at all. To think that just one year apart was enough to shatter thirty years of love and mutual support… With trembling hands, I picked up my phone and called my mother. "Mom, I'm feeling homesick… Can you get me a new identity and a one-way ticket out of the country?"

My mother claims my husband has cheated on me and pushes me to get a divorce. I want to collect evidence before proceeding with anything—if it's true, I have to uphold my rights. Yet she causes a scene at an art exhibition I've worked on for three years, humiliating me in public and making me sound like a gold digger. "How are you any different from a prostitute when you're holding this dumb exhibition with a man's money? I didn't raise you to be a gold digger! How can you be so revolting?" She slashes the million-dollar paintings in the exhibition, claiming that she's doing this for my good. She wants me to see the error of my ways and return to the right path. Meanwhile, I clutch my bloody hand, which she slashed with her blade. I say, "You say you want me to return to the right path, but is that what it really is? You want me to divorce my legally wedded husband, who's a CEO, without a penny to my name. "Then, you want me to marry a 45-year-old cheap man who has a child and no money? He even wants me to support him!"

She lives on her own terms. He’s living on borrowed time. Neither of them planned on falling—especially not for each other. Blue has made a life out of leaving. Her summer is all dusty boots, soft sunsets, and smoky guitar covers shared with millions of followers from the back of her boho van. Portland was supposed to be a quick visit—just her best friend, a short-term gig harvesting,, and a little time to breathe.But then there’s Teddy.He’s the brooding, blue-eyed lead singer of No Name, the local grunge band with a sound that hits like a bruise and a smile that makes her forget how to breathe. He’s wild onstage and guarded off of it, carrying secrets behind that slow-burning gaze. He’s everything she never wanted: complicated, magnetic, dangerous in a way that feels too good to ignore.What starts as stolen glances and flirtation under stage lights turns into something hotter, deeper, harder to walk away from.They come from different worlds—but under the heat of a summer that feels endless, they collide in all the wrong ways that somehow feel right.And the only thing harder than falling for him… is trusting he won’t break her.

Warning: Mature Content Shock, cold and absolute, rippled through me. My jaw dropped. “Owned? I am not an object! You can’t just—” His dark chuckle cut me off. It was a chilling sound, devoid of warmth. “Oh, but I do, little bird. You became mine the moment your dear brother, Carlos, sold you to clear his debts. Along with almost all the shares in your father’s company.” The air left my lungs in a ragged gasp. What was he talking about? That couldn't be true, yet the look in his eyes said otherwise. He had sold me like an object, like chattel. Rage, raw and unadulterated, surged through me, eclipsing the fear for a fleeting moment. I tried to push past him, to escape and to run anywhere but his hand shot out, grabbing me by the neck, not quite choking but enough to hold me in an iron grip. He pinned me to the wall, his face inches from mine, his eyes burning with an intense possessive fire. “You now belong to Lorenzo Blackwood,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “You are mine. To possess. To claim. To own.”

In a world slowly being erased, the quiet is the killer. Ethan Ashworth’s life ended the day the Silence touched him, leaving a smooth, numb patch on his skin and a ghost where his memories used to be. He is one of the Marked—doomed to be hollowed out, unless the hunters of Die Jägerfind him first. His only hope is the Library, a secret sanctuary for those the Silence hasn’t yet consumed. There, he meets Lorenzo Cavalli, a former soldier marked not by emptiness, but by a rage that refuses to be silenced. Their connection is immediate, volatile, and unwanted—a psychic bond forged in shared terror that screams against the quiet. It’s also the one thing the all-consuming Silence cannot stomach. Their bond isn't just a link; it’s a weapon. A wrong note in a world demanding perfect silence. On the run from relentless hunters and a creeping nothingness that eats sound, memory, and soul, Ethan and Lorenzo discover a terrible truth: the Silence isn't random. It's a hunger. And it’s gathering, preparing to swallow the world whole. Their only chance is to turn their unwanted connection into a blade, and walk into the heart of the consuming quiet. To kill a god of silence, you don’t fight with a shout. You fight with a scream that is also a love song.

Grandma lay bedridden, her dementia taking hold as she repeated Scarlett Hayes's name over and over. Tears streamed down my face as I dialed my wife's number. When she picked up, Scarlett sounded irritated. She said she was working late tonight and would call me back when she was free. I could clearly hear the sound of a man's laughter in the background. The moment I hung up, Grandma gasped sharply. She called out my wife's name. It was her last breath. While I sat drowning in grief, Scarlett's male best friend Chase Morrison posted a video update, geotagged at a couples' hotel. In the video, their fingers were laced together. The woman's arm bore a distinctive black mole I recognized instantly. The caption read: "When two hearts become one, why care what anyone else thinks?" In that moment, my heart turned to ash. I gritted my teeth and left a comment. "Let's file for divorce tomorrow. Then you two can be together openly and legally. You'll even save on the hotel fees. Win-win, right?"

I sell handmade fortune cookies in the park. Each one costs $10,000, yet every day, people fight to buy them. That’s because what I sell are fertility fortune cookies. Eat one, and you can get pregnant instantly. You can even choose what kind of child you want. Slip in a double-yolk charm, and you’ll have twins. Seal in a perfect test paper, and your child will be a genius. A spayed female dog ate one and ended up pregnant with six puppies. Someone buried a fortune cookie beneath a withered tree, and by the next day, it had burst into full bloom. I sell fortune cookies to both women and men—anyone who wants to get pregnant. I turn no one away. Even animals, if they so much as make a sound, I’ll feed them. Until one day, a young woman, Mara Kessler, who had been standing in line from dawn until dusk, finally stepped forward and timidly said she wanted to buy a fortune cookie. I only took one look at her, then staggered back in terror. "I can’t sell to you. Leave. Now."