Speculative Short Fiction Deserves Love

What happens when your life is just a lie? What happens when you finally find out that none of what you believe to be real is real? What if you met someone who made you question everything? And what happens when your life is nothing but a fiction carved by Mr. Fiction himself? "The truth is rarely pure and never simple." — Oscar Wilde. Disclaimer: this story touches on depression, losing someone, and facing reality instead of taking the easy way out. ( ( ( part of TBNB Series, this is the story of Clarabelle Summers's writers ))

"Are you still afraid of me Medusa?" His deep voice send shivers down my spine like always. He's too close for me to ignore. Why is he doing this? He's not supposed to act this way. What the hell? Better to be straight forward Med! I gulped down the lump formed in my throat and spoke with my stern voice trying to be confident. "Yes, I'm scared of you, more than you can even imagine." All my confidence faded away within an instant as his soft chuckle replaced the silence. Jerking me forward into his arms he leaned forward to whisper into my ear. "I will kiss you, hug you and bang you so hard that you will only remember my name to sa-, moan. You will see me around a lot baby, get ready your therapy session to get rid off your fear starts now." He whispered in his deep husky voice and winked before leaving me alone dumbfounded. Is this how your death flirts with you to Fuck your life!? There's only one thing running through my mind. Lifting my head up in a swift motion and glaring at the sky, I yelled with all my strength. "FUC* YOU AUTHOR!" ~~~~~~~~~ What if you wished for transmigating into a Novel just for fun, and it turns out to be true. You transimigated but as a Villaness who died in the end. A death which is lonely, despicable and pathetic. Join the journey of Kiara who Mistakenly transmigates into a Novel. Will she succeed in surviving or will she die as per her fate in the book. This story is a pure fiction and is based on my own imagination.

She survived the scars. Now she’s learning how to love. Elena Grey once believed love meant sacrifice, silence, and surviving the storm. After escaping an abusive marriage with her daughter Lila, she’s starting over—but healing isn’t linear, and trust isn’t easy. Then Jack walks into her life. Patient, kind, and carrying his own hidden wounds, he offers her something she never imagined: safety, choice, and the space to rediscover herself.

The woman my husband never got over and I were rushed to the hospital after the same car accident. The hospital's plasma supply was dangerously low. To get her into surgery as quickly as possible, my husband, Maxwell Gallagher, chose to draw my blood. What he did not know was that I had hemophilia. That single decision drained the life from me. My body failed first. My heart followed, quietly and completely. "Once Josie is stable, I'll make it up to you," he said, forcing the promise through clenched resolve. I smiled faintly as I listened. By then, everything inside me was already dead. Just as my existence was about to be erased, the Neural Outcome Determination Engine took my place and returned to my body. I thought Maxwell would never realize the truth. But the moment he looked into "my" eyes, he broke down completely.

Nine years into our marriage, Linda Chancers was constantly surrounded by admirers. She enjoyed captivating inexperienced young men, making them infatuated with her.I understood and accepted it while she took pleasure in it.We continued quietly like this for nine years. It wasn’t until the day I achieved success and left without looking back. That night, Linda smashed everything in the house and grabbed my collar, screaming, "So, all these years, you've never loved me!"Love?What I loved, what I wanted, was nothing more than status and wealth.

When I loved her, I didn't understand what true love was. When I lost her, I had time for her. I was emptied just when I was full of love. Speechless! Life took her to death while I explored the outside world within. Sad trauma of losing her. I am going to miss her in a perfectly impossible world for us. I also note my fight with death as a cause of extreme departure in life. Enjoy!

Collection of short stories to take you to another world of imagination. This collection contains Love, drama, tragedy, emotions, and of course, lots of romance to fulfill all your cravings for stories. Based in the typical household of Indian Muslims.

This is a book of shifter short stories. All of these stories came from readers asking me to write stories about animals they typically don't see as shifters. The stories that are in this series are - Welcome to the Jungle, Undercover, The Storm, Prize Fighter, The Doe's Stallion The Biker Bunnies The Luna's Two Mates

“Fuck me harder, baby—drill my tight little hole!” she gasped, nails clawing down his shoulders. Kai growled low, hips snapping brutally, his thick cock stretching her wide with every punishing thrust. “Take it all, you dirty girl—feel me pounding your wet cunt till you scream,” he rasped, his hand gripping her throat just enough to make her eyes roll back. #SteamyRomance, #Erotica, #ForbiddenLove, #HateToLove, #OfficeRomance, #Spicy, #Adult, #DirtySeries, #Billionaire, #ExesReunion, #OneNightStand, #EnemiesToLovers

My mom, Susan, had a habit of sending me to get her shopping. However, she would always leave out a zero when paying me back what was owed, blaming on her poor eyesight. I never minded. In fact, I would just cover the cost without another word. Then, Summer, my sister, had to throw shade. “Mom sends you money whenever she wants something. You never show us the actual costs, though. I bet you’re making a nice little profit off Mom behind our backs.” Susan smiled and didn’t even bother to defend me, as if confirming Summer’s accusations. My heart sank. Over the years, I had bought her things from major appliances to the smallest groceries, and each time, the payment she sent was short. Susan would just brush the whole thing off by saying, “Oh, my eyes aren’t what they used to be. My bad.” I had poured hundreds of thousands into her expenses, only to end up with a reputation as a thief who cheated her own family. When Susan sent me money for the New Year’s Eve catering, I simply booked food that fit the budget she paid for.