Split Personality Meme Novels & Stories

Eoin Sinclair is the crowned Prince, son of the Werewolf King and Queen. His mother is the legendary Green wolf. He is to be the next King. He agrees to mate his girlfriend Amira after all she is the Princess of the Sirens and raised to be Royal. She knows how to be a calm, submissive, Luna. Kayda is a fire dragon werewolf hybrid her father Danny is the Warrior Gamma of the Royal Pack. Dottie her mother is the last pure bred fire dragon. Kayda realises her relationship with Eoin might not be what she assumed. After all, he thinks she is immature, unruly, and childish, and those are the reasons he has told her to her face. No way they're mates. ***** *** ******* "This isn't wrestling." Eoin grunted. "I could easily throw you off." he added. "But you haven't." I grinned, shifting my hips slightly. "Because I don't want to hurt you." he said. " Get off." he added through gritted teeth. "Nope Prince." I smirked, emphasising his title Prince and popping the P disrespectfully. "Besides, you already hurt me, so kiss it better." I smirked, leaning dangerously low to him and pushing out my split lip. "Kayda." he growled in warning. "Last chance, get off me." "And if I don't, do I get that spanking?" I asked . Eoin snapped. I saw it happen in his eyes. I had pushed him to his limit. He swiftly stood up with me in his arms and walked a few paces. Before I knew it, he had me bent over a fallen tree log on the edge of the clearing my head and upper body over the log and my butt in the air. ******* ********* ***** Will the future Kings Flame burn him, or will it set him on fire? Book 3 of the Green Wolf series.

The youngest billionaire in town with looks of Adonis and everything at his feet desired just one thing more in life. His perfect match. He wished for a wife whose beauty would turn heads, a smile which would lighten up his world and figure which would curve perfectly under his fingers. A beauty who spoke with etiquette and made him proud. But he got her A mediocre girl with average looks, fierce personality and no curves. Outspoken and downright rude. She was everything he didn't want his wife to be like. But who could defy when their souls were bound by threads of fate. She was insecure And he fueled it further She considered herself inferior to him And he used every chance to make it a belief. She had a beautiful delicate golden heart And he made sure to taint it black and crush it under his Gucci shoes. She was his not so beautiful wife And he made sure that nothing left of her could be ever considered beautiful. "I will taint every damn fibre of your body my dear Elle...every bit of it till you beg me to divorce you" -Ashton "I will love every flaw of you my dear husband ...each and everyone till this heart beats for you" -Elle BEAUTY SERIES: Book 1 His not so beautiful wife Book 2 His Scarred Beauty

So it appeared that she was to start paying her way on her back with this absolutely massive, broad-shouldered, tattooed, aptly-named wild warrior. Gideon was a large man, but this modern viking put him to serious physical shame; if Gideon’s dick had split her in half in agony, Iris could only imagine what this monster’s cock would do to her. She just hoped that he left her able to walk… and able to fuck the rest of the boys downstairs, because of course they’d be close behind. She knew there would be blood soaking and staining her thighs before things were done, long before they decided that they’d used her up. Stopping her jumbled thoughts, Iris slowly lowered herself to her knees. **** Liam “Viking” Callahan thought the job was done. Evidence buried. Debt paid to The Road Devils MC. Then he drives out of the Utah mountains with a secret in the back of his van: a terrified woman running for her life. Iris has spent six months planning her escape from Gideon and the Garden of Divine Light. She’s barefoot, freezing, and desperate enough to gamble on a stranger who looks dangerous... but still safer than the hell she left behind. So she hides. And prays. When the Road Devils discover Iris, the truth unravels: a cult, a tyrant, and a woman who fled into a winter night wearing nothing but a nightgown and borrowed boots. She’s broken, but not defeated. Iris wants her life back... her body, her choices, her fearlessness. The only man she feels safe with is the towering, gentle Viking. As trust turns into desire, neither of them sees the danger closing in. Gideon wants his “property” returned... and he won’t stop until he gets it.

After reuniting with my birth family, my wealthy biological father tossed me a black card and laid down one rule: I could spend as much as I wanted, but I was never to call him Dad—that title belonged only to his adoptive daughter. Clutching the black card, I cautiously bought myself a two-dollar-fifty ice cream cone. Just as I was happily licking the sweet ice cream, the adoptive daughter dropped to her knees before me. "Alice, are you mocking me because I can't even afford something that costs two-fifty in the future?" My brother immediately slapped me twice. "You have money now, but you can't split love. Natalie is my one and only sister!" Then my father splashed boiling water onto my face. "No disgraceful wretch deserves to be a Gervais." To punish me, they sent me off to Rimala, forced to work as a child laborer in the mines. Ten years later, I walked into a grand banquet hall with an ice cream in hand and came face-to-face with my brother, Ansel Gervais, dressed in a hand-tailored suit. "All these years and you're still a disgrace," he sneered, but I couldn't be bothered to argue. "Let go. My dad's waiting for me—and if I'm any later, the ice cream's going to melt." He looked down at me with contempt. "Dad? Who gave you permission to call him that? Natalie will forever be the only Gervais girl—no one can take that away from her!" I rolled my eyes. Who said I was talking about that cheap excuse for a father? I was talking about my adoptive father—the oil tycoon with an incurable sweet tooth. I was in a hurry to let him taste some ice cream.

Ever since we were kids, I'd always known how to make use of my gentle childhood friend for things like sending him on errands, and borrowing his allowance. He never complained. Just silently indulged me. Things continued the same way until the day we got engaged. That's when everything snapped into place. That was the day we both woke up. I was just a throwaway character in a novel. He was the male lead—fated to fall in love and end up with the novel's heroine. I was stunned. Ready to walk away. But he was furious. Jaw clenched, eyes wild. He grabbed my hand and dragged me straight to City Hall. "Screw the novel. Screw the plot. The only thing I know is that I love you, and I want forever with you." After we got married, he treated me like I was made of glass. Gentle. Meticulous. We worked side by side, building a reputation as a power couple in the business world. The events of the novel faded into the background. I fell deeper in love with him. Three years later, the youngest daughter of a real estate tycoon started her internship at our company. That day, there was a fire in the office. In the chaos, the girl stumbled into a shelving unit. It came crashing down, headed straight for my husband. I didn't hesitate. I threw myself in front of him. Pain exploded in my skull. Blood poured down my face. The girl, in her panic, had fallen to the ground, crying out, "Aaron, help me!" My husband's face went pale. His expression—pure terror—as he ran toward her without a second thought. "Grace!" he cried. Lightning split through me. My face drained of color. The heroine in the novel—her name was Grace.

Manhattan was doing that thing again twinkling like it had all the answers, when really it just had expensive lighting. Alexander Knight leaned against the glass wall of his penthouse, seventy-five floors up, watching the city hum below him. Bourbon in one hand (mostly untouched), phone in the other. The merger docs stared back at him from the screen, but the part that actually kept him up at night wasn’t the billions on the line. It was the fine print from the Japanese investors: “Family stability preferred.” Translation: get a wife, look settled, or watch the whole deal slip away. He exhaled, fogging the window for a second before it cleared. His assistant had already sent over a neat little list of “suitable” women—discreet, polished, zero drama. Women who understood arrangements. He hadn’t even opened the attachments. Because something about the whole thing felt… hollow. His gaze drifted down, past the grid of lights, to the tiny café on the corner. Golden glow spilling onto the sidewalk, handwritten sign in the window: Local Artist Pop-Up – One Night Only. A woman stood in front of a canvas, head tilted, paint-smudged shirt slipping off one shoulder. She was talking to someone out of view, laughing softly, then stepped back to study her work like it had personally offended her. She glanced up—straight toward his building, straight at him somehow, even though there was no way she could see him up here. But for a split second, their eyes locked across the impossible distance. But right then, with the whole damn city glittering between them, he had this ridiculous, unshakable thought: She’s the one I’m going to ask. And hell help them both when she says yes.

The chimes of the Full Moon Festival echoed through the night air. I fought down the nervous flutter in my chest and shot a text to Beta Lucas. "When are we telling the pack, Beta Lucas? When do we finally mark each other?" "I was still holding my breath when my brother, Alpha Ryan, suddenly raised his hand." He pointed at the Sacred Oak in the middle of the plaza, his voice laced with surprise. "Hey, Elena. Isn't that Lucas?" "He's holding a girl's hand. Looks like the pack's in for a celebration." I followed Ryan's gaze on instinct. In that split second, my wolf went completely cold. Lucas was kissing the girl in his arms, deep and passionate. I recognized her right away. It was Sarah, the rogue wolf Lucas had brought back from the forest border the week before. Word was she'd saved Lucas's life. I must've been staring too hard, because Lucas suddenly looked up and locked eyes with us. His pupils shrank the second he saw me. A few seconds later, he slowly let go of the girl in his arms. "Ryan, Elena. Let me formally introduce you two." "This is Sarah, my chosen mate." When he got to me, Lucas's eyes darted away. He glanced quickly at my pale face, then turned to the Sarah beside him. "This is Elena, Alpha Ryan's sister. She's like a little sister to me, too." We'd shared a bed countless nights. And all I got in the end was the label of sister. Fine, then. If your little sister marries another Alpha, you'll surely bless me, won't you?

Tyler never wanted an Alpha, especially not someone like Landon Hayes. At Ridgecrest Academy, Landon is at the top of the food chain—dominant, arrogant, and used to getting everything he wants. But Tyler isn’t like the other Omegas who fall at his feet. Defiant and independent, he’s determined to finish his year and leave without ever being claimed. Landon has other plans. The moment Tyler caught Landon’s eye, it was game over. Tyler’s quiet defiance and refusal to submit ignite something in Landon he can’t ignore. For the first time, Landon is chasing someone who doesn’t want to be caught. At Ridgecrest, the rules are simple: the strongest Alpha gets what he wants. And Landon Hayes wants Tyler. *** “You—” he starts to say, but his voice catches. I see his pupils dilate, his lips parting as he tries to push back against what’s happening. I let the red flash in my eyes, just for a second, enough to show him who’s in control here. It’s not about scaring him—it’s about reminding him of the natural order of things. The way this has always been meant to go. “Submit,” I growl. He whines. It’s quiet, barely audible, but I hear it. His body betrays him for just a second, his knees wobbling as his head lowers, shoulders hunching in instinctual submission. His eyes flick away, and I can see it—the brief moment where his will cracks. And god, it’s intoxicating. That split second of submission is all I need to know that he’s mine. He might fight it, but his body knows. His scent tells me everything I need to know. It’s only a matter of time before he breaks completely, before he’s begging for it.

"Crawl to Daddy on your hands and knees, little whore. I want to see you beg for this dick before I split you open and breed that dripping cunt." * Daddy's Naughty Pet is a collection for readers who are tired of vanilla bullshit and want stories about people who fuck like their lives depend on it. Five chapters each of the raunchiest, most depraved scenarios that'll make you wet, hard, and wondering what's wrong with you for loving it. The stepmom who "accidentally" walks in on her stepson jerking off and decides to help. The personal assistant who schedules "meetings" that are really just fuck sessions on the conference table. The priest who breaks his vows with a parishioner in the confessional. The doctor who gives very hands-on examinations. The landlord who demands payment in pussy. The mechanic who test-drives more than cars. The massage therapist with wandering hands. The yoga instructor who teaches flexible positions for other reasons. The lifeguard who performs mouth-to-mouth that turns into face-fucking. The uber driver who takes a detour. Every character is controlled by their cravings. The married woman sneaking out to get railed by her ex because her husband's dick doesn't satisfy. The college girl who fucks her entire fraternity in one night. The businessman who keeps a submissive locked in his penthouse. These stories don't have plot—they have positions. No character development—just hole development. No emotional connection—just physical fucking that leaves them sore, sticky, and immediately ready for round two. Expect: Every depraved kink you can imagine and some you didn't know existed. This collection is shameless, filthy, degenerate smut with zero redeeming qualities. And that's exactly why you'll devour every word. Ready! Now flip that page like the good little girl you are.

Jake Ryan had been best friends with Jay Morgan since they were in middle school. Jake had always valued being an only sibling, especially when Jay’s younger sister, Rachel, was always in the picture. Her personality always rubbed Jake the wrong way, and the fact that she always had to butt into her big brother’s business annoyed him more than he could say. Rachel, on the other hand, had way too much fun bothering Jake, he let it be known that she always rubbed him wrong, and she took great joy in making sure to always let it happen. Even after their drunk, and oh stupid night, she still teased him. But when the Jake came to be her personal one man rescue mission to help her out of a blizzard, she wanted no part of it. And a few minutes too long of arguing and annoying each other meant that they were stuck in her family cabin until help came, if they came. What could happen with two people, who clearly hated each other, were forced to spend the unknown amount of hours together? Could they get over the bickering along enough to figure out how to get help? Could they actually pull together and work through their problems? Better yet, could they finally stop denying the attraction they’ve both buried since high school?