Stories For Bedtime For Adults Novels & Stories

I sat with my back on the headboard while Aiden and Abby lay on either side of me, with their heads leaning against me as I told them as much as I could remember from one of the bedtime stories Celine and I were usually forced to sit through back at the foster home. We always found it boring and would be among the first kids to do off before she even read two lines from the story, the other kids would fall closely behind, it was that dreadful. But tonight, the kids found my old, half-complete, gap-filled story fascinating enough to listen to as I tried to lull them to sleep.

I had buried that truth so deep that sometimes even I almost believed the mask. Hours passed in a blur of loud conversations, laughter, and second helpings. I played with the kids, listened to Uncle Mark’s long stories, and helped clear the table like the good nephew I was supposed to be. By the time the excitement finally died down, exhaustion settled into my bones. I excused myself around midnight, kissed Mum goodnight, and retreated upstairs to my old bedroom.

he said softly. He sat on the edge of the bed, his voice low and steady as he began. The story wasn’t anything complicated. Just something simple. Something about a wolf who got lost and found his way back home. But the way he told it— The way the kids listened— It did something to the room. Something I wasn’t ready to name. By the time he finished, all three of them were asleep. Peacefully. Together. I stood there for a moment, watching them. Then turned.

"I miss normal. I miss boring. I miss coffee being biggest problem in my day." "I miss being tucked in," Grace said. "I miss you reading stories, Mommy. I miss Daddy checking for monsters under my bed. I miss feeling safe enough to sleep. Do you think—do you think I'll ever sleep again? Real sleep? Or is this it forever? Just—just aware in darkness forever?" "I don't know, baby."

She grasped a book from the shelf, sauntering over to the bed that they shared. And wrapping the duvet across her legs, they clung to her. She opened the book to the next story and looked down at Em, half her eyes closed. "Today's bedtime story—" Her voice broke badly and then she cleared her throat. "Today's story is uhm—about this girl" She said, seeing that they were already half asleep. "This girl that lost both her parents, and all she had was her—"

I pointed to a much slimmer book beside me on the floor. “Why are you reading about Dragons though?” “For our kids, One of them is going to have dragon blood running in their veins. I should at least have knowledge about their kind so I can tell them stories.” I chirped and his mouth formed into an O. “Someone is really working hard to be a storyteller.” He teased me. “Will you read me a bedtime story tonight?” “Get out,” He laughed while I returned to my book. “So what’s the other one about?” He asked while he returned to his drawing.

‘Sit with me beautiful Wolf’ Her hands stroked over his fur and he sank to the floor his whole body alive to hers as she curled beside him one arm thrown around his neck, ‘I’m not afraid of you’ She whispered as another loud crash of thunder followed a fork of lightening, ‘I read the book’ He turned his huge head and blinked his golden eyes she was curled into his side fast asleep and very gently he rested his head against her hand feeling her warmth, ‘Oh my Belle’ He whispered brokenly a single tear falling from his cheek. Belle woke up in her own bed dry and warm she blinked sleepily, ‘Had it all been a dream?’ There was no sign of the huge silver Wolf and she said nothing to her Father wh

The evil ones. The kind of bedtime stories mothers whispered to keep their children from wandering past the watchtowers after nightfall. Stories I'd dismissed as folklore meant to frighten the young and gullible, nothing more than superstition wrapped in shadow. Yet here one stood, in my bedroom, as real as the floorboards beneath my feet.

However, with something on her mind, Thea tossed and turned that night, unable to fall asleep. Thorne pulled her into his arms and commanded dominantly, "Close your eyes, I will tell you a story." Then he went from Snow White to Pea Princess, from Cinderella to Thumbelina. Thea became more and more uneasy as she listened, “Why are all these stories about princes and Cinderellas who go through hardships and end up happily together?" Thorne said, "Because I liked it." Thea, “..." Finally, she felt a little guilty, “Why don't you go to sleep first? I really can't fall asleep."

"Mr Robert really loves Angela, and I'm even surprised that he's finally acknowledging me. Has he suddenly changed or he just wants to flatter me? Mr Nice and grumpy! She exclaimed beneath breath. She carefully rearranged the stack of books, taking her time to select the perfect one for tonight's bedtime story. She ran her fingers over the colorful covers, each one promising an magical adventure within its pages. Lost in her thoughts, she whispered softly to herself. "Let's see... Which story shall we embark on tonight, Angela?" Mitchell thought, a gentle smile gracing her lips. "Should we venture into a mystical land of fairies and unicorns? Or perhaps a thrilling journey through a hidden t