Stackable Chairs Indoor Novels & Stories

Jeremy Davis was slated to be the next best Quarterback in Professional Football until he gets injured in the preseason of his Rookie Season and ends his career. A couple years later, while begrudgingly owning a Indoor Football team, he comes across an unlucky football prospect that just turn his world upside down. Can She melt his frozen heart, possibly restore his love of football or be able to do both?

With the chaos that happened, Nathalia's grave was not finished. It was half filled. Wasted flowers scented the grounds. Shovels lie useless. Chairs scrambled in the area. A forlorn sight for the most feared woman in the society. As the rest of the people squandered for their lives, one man remains. The oldest friend. Three other men came. They picked the shovels as the old man orders. Slowly, they packed the unfilled grave. The old man held his hands to his back. Stared at the freshly dug soils. All these years, he lived behind the shadows of Nathalia. Hiding from the morbid influence of his kind. It's time to step out of the dark. To tell a story, Lucifer: Untold.

At the annual company banquet, the boss had the tables and chairs from the logistics department removed, leaving only a stainless steel dog bowl in the center of the stage. "Logistics is just the company's watchdog," he said coldly. "Since when do watchdogs sit at the table and eat?" The top sales champion laughed as he dumped leftovers into the bowl. The boss casually slipped a black garbage bag over my shoulders. "From now on, you're the company's living trash can. Catch it properly." Laughter erupted across the room. Amid the jeers, I silently tightened my grip on the universal access card in my hand. What they didn't know was that the building's special approvals for water and electricity—and all its property management connections—were maintained by this very "dog face" of mine. I tossed my ID badge into the dog bowl and turned to leave. Let's see how long you last once the new year passes—without logistics there to hold everything together.

Noah, a broke, exhausted twenty two year old just trying to survive another bad year, who accidentally binds himself to Kael, a five hundred year old demon with too much attitude and not enough patience for the modern world. What begins as a desperate act quickly turns into an uneasy partnership, forcing Noah to navigate a hidden supernatural underbelly while juggling family obligations, poverty, and a demon who treats chaos like a hobby. As Kael adjusts to buses, phones, and indoor plumbing, it becomes clear he isn’t the monster Noah expected. Bound by rules neither fully understands, their pact draws attention from forces far older and far more dangerous than either of them. With power that always comes at a cost and a past that refuses to stay buried, Noah must decide how much of himself he’s willing to lose to survive and whether some bargains were never meant to be broken.

I was with Don Massimo for five years. The whole time, he never hid his favorite: Cara. His driver’s daughter. The man who took a bullet for him. He called it paying a debt. Like a fool, I bought it. He gave her jewels. Fast cars. He even bought her an island. Three days before the wedding, I found out he'd moved the venue. Not to my family's estate in Sicily. But to the island. Her island. His excuse? Cara was claustrophobic. Couldn't handle a big indoor wedding. I was done. Three days later, the wedding happened on that island. But the bride was a no-show. Massimo was publicly humiliated. He tore the city apart looking for me. That’s when he found out. He thought he was marrying me. Instead, I married his greatest enemy. Nikolai Volkov. The Godfather of the Russian Bratva. He ditched Cara. He ran to my family's estate and waited. Seven days and nights. With flowers, a ring, and a whole lot of begging.

Everyone in the city knows Lena Moore award-winning investigative journalist, fearless, sharp-tongued, and impossible to intimidate. She’s built a career exposing powerful men and tearing down corrupt empires. What she doesn’t know is that the quiet man she keeps running into at her neighborhood café Eli Carter, the one who listens more than he talks, who fixes broken chairs for free and always smells faintly of ink and rain is one of those men. Eli isn’t just rich. He’s the silent owner of multiple companies, operating behind shell boards and faceless executives after his family was destroyed by public attention years ago. He chose anonymity over dominance. Their connection grows slowly. Conversations about ethics, loneliness, and truth. Late-night walks. Shared silences. Real intimacy. Then Lena is assigned a career-defining investigation. She’s hunting a mysterious billionaire whose companies are quietly reshaping the country. She’s hunting him.

Jason Trujilo employs Cara Thompson as a worker in his exclusive club in order to pay back the money her father owed. Once she paid off the debt, Jason tells Cara that she is free to go. Six months later, Cara is doing well for herself, until Jason comes crashing back into her life, demanding that she leave with him. Cara refuses to leave her new life, and Jason is hell bent on having Cara under his control. So how will this story end? ------------------------------------------------- SNEAK PEEK: Thirty minutes prior to lunchtime, Cara knocked on Jason's office, and after given permission, she entered the office with a stapled packet. Jason looked at Cara swiftly before focusing back on the blank screen of his laptop. She sat on one of the chairs, and stared at him from behind her glasses, waiting to be acknowledged. A princess she was, but Jason didn't care to be her knight in shining armor. No. He would rather be the villain who trapped her in a tower and punished her for being so innocent and yet spoiled and self-centered and confident.

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."

In an East London lock up, two film makers, Jimmy and Sam, are duct taped to chairs and forced to watch a snuff film by Ashkan, a loan shark to whom they owe a lot of money. If they don’t pay up, they’ll be starring in the next one. Before the film reaches its end, Ashkan and all his men are slaughtered by unknown assailants. Only Jimmy and Sam survive the massacre, leaving them with the sole copy of the snuff film. The film makers decide to build their next movie around the brutal film. While auditioning actors, they stumble upon Melissa, an enigmatic actress who seems perfect for the leading role, not least because she’s the spitting image of the snuff film’s main victim. Neither the film, nor Melissa, are entirely what they seem however. Jimmy and Sam find themselves pulled into a paranormal mystery that leads them through the shadowy streets of the city beneath the city and sees them re-enacting an ancient Mesopotamian myth cycle. As they play out the roles of long forgotten gods and goddesses, they’re drawn into the subtle web of a deadly heresy that stretches from the beginnings of civilization to the end of the world as we know it. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

My mom is terrified of being laughed at by others the most. Whenever the holidays are here, she will keep repeating one sentence to me—"Don't go around embarrassing me." When my relatives gather around and chat with each other, I accidentally knock a fruit platter over. Mom drags me over and slaps me on the spot. At the holiday feast, I grab extra pieces of steak for myself. Mom responds by kicking my chair over. When it's time for the holiday gifts to be distributed, my aunt, Gabriella Hall, has miscalculated the number of children present among the family. So, she has prepared one less gift for the occasion. Mom doesn't hesitate to kick me out of the apartment, leaving me shivering in the cold corridor in just my indoor clothes. The icy winds chill me to the bone. I keep slamming my palms on the front door while screaming and crying my apologies at Mom, and yet she remains unmoved and silent. Instead, she turns to face Aunt Gabriella with an apologetic smile on her face. "I'm really sorry. I didn't raise my daughter well. It's only fair that you ridicule me." What Mom doesn't know is that I get triggered whenever I hear the word "ridicule" thanks to her so-called parenting lessons. Whenever I hear that word, I want nothing more than to hurt myself uncontrollably. So when I hear the word "ridicule" coming out of Mom's mouth through the front door, I turn on my heel quietly and begin making my way toward the bridge next to the neighborhood that's plunged into darkness. The moment I jump from the bridge, the only thought I have is, "Mom, no one will ridicule you because of me this time."