Stories That Are Made Up Novels & Stories

My girlfriend's schoolmate is being hounded by creditors. In my past life, the same incident had unfolded before my eyes. I was worried that my girlfriend would provoke these ruthless creditors, so I'd advised her not to meddle. However, her schoolmate later overdosed on sleeping pills. Later on, my girlfriend acted as if nothing had happened and continued preparing for our wedding. But after she got drunk one day, I found her caressing his picture tenderly—before stabbing me in the heart with a knife. She claimed that if not for my indifference and selfishness, her schoolmate wouldn't have taken his own life. Now that I've been reborn, I'll grant her wish and let her help him pay off his debts. Presently, I say, "He's your schoolmate. If you can help him, go ahead. I won't object."

I'd been bonded to my mate, Brandon Blackstone, the Alpha heir of the Blackstone pack, for three years. But I'd never been allowed to attend his family dinners. Every full moon, I could only stay home alone. Brandon said it was a centuries-old tradition of the Blackstone pack. Only after passing a long probationary period, proving absolute loyalty to the pack and one's mate, would someone be allowed to attend the Alpha's family dinners. I'd believed him for three whole years. But now, I'd found three photos in his car. In the background, I could see a long table laden with a variety of fruits and delectable dishes. The Alpha and Luna raised their glasses beside the statue of the Moon Goddess, standing quietly to the side. And beside Brandon stood a beautiful she-wolf. Moonlight spilled down, and I could clearly see how close they were standing, their fingers tightly interlaced. That was when I finally understood. Not being allowed to attend the dinners was never about some probationary period. It was because Brandon, or rather the entire Blackstone pack, believed that the person qualified to stand beside the future Alpha would never be me.

When my identity as a spy for the enemy nation was exposed, my two childhood friends faked their deaths and made a bet. Whose memorial tablet I chose to marry at the altar would be the one to protect me. One was Rio Murray, the young general to whom I was betrothed. The other was Prince Bayram, who had concealed my identity as a spy for many years. But I chose neither for the simple fact that I had lived this life twice. During my first time, I chose Rio, only to be buried alive by the prince, who had “returned from the dead.” During my second time, I chose Bayram, only to be torn to pieces by vultures sent by Rio. Later, I learned that all those years of care had been a facade. It was because they had mistaken me for their dream girl, who had been abducted by the enemy nation in childhood and vanished without a trace. They hated me for usurping her place. So under the pretext of eliminating a rival, they subjected me to the agony of slow torture! This time, I ignored both memorial tablets placed before me. Amid the gasps of the crowd, I produced the Royal Decree and declared while enunciating every word clearly. “I am already betrothed; I’m afraid I cannot choose.”

When I'm seven years old, my dad turns me in to the Court Judgment of the Born Wicked because of my tendency to vomit. If I'm found guilty, my blood ties with my dad will be forcibly severed. Then, I'll be sent to prison. Everyone claims that Dad is just making a fuss over nothing. "Your daughter is still so young, so it's natural for her to fall ill. As a father, you should be more considerate toward her." But when the evidence is shown, everyone clamps up immediately. There was once when Dad drank so much to the point he suffered from gastric bleeding. The business contract that he managed to convince his client to sign was all soiled because I vomited on him as soon as he got home. Thanks to me, the contract was voided. Dad got fired on the spot. During Bryce Fuller, my older brother's birthday, I vomited onto his birthday cake in front of his classmates. Because of that, Bryce was isolated by all of his classmates. He became so depressed that he tried to slit his wrist in an attempt to take his own life. I'll keep vomiting everywhere, be it at the dining table or on my bed. Dad and Bryce have to clean me up more than 30 times every day. They suffer greatly because of me. What angers everyone the most is that after I'm done vomiting, I'll laugh at everyone in a provocative manner. The judge gives his verdict instantly, claiming that I'm wicked by nature. Bryce's eyes redden immediately. As he cries, he tells me that he can't bear to see me leaving him. I never shed any tears, nor do I throw a tantrum. Instead, I accept the judge's verdict calmly, but with a prerequisite condition that the judge finishes watching my memories. The judge is shocked, to say the least. "We'll have to crack your skull open in order to extract your memories. You'll be in a world of pain. Are you sure about that?" I nod in determination. But Bryce, on the other hand, looks alarmed. "I won't agree to that!"

Lila Sterling had it all, money, power and the perfect fiancé. Until the night she fell from her balcony on the night of her engagement party. The world believes she tried to end her life after battling depression and addiction. But she remembers the truth. She was not drunk that night. She was not depressed and above all she didn’t jump. When she finally wakes up, it’s in another woman’s body. Sera Hale, a struggling intern with debts, a sick mother, and a pregnancy. While the media mourns her death, Lila is forced to live as someone else. Her only chance at uncovering the truth lies with Theo Stavros, the ruthless billionaire who she is yet to know, once wanted her for himself. But Theo isn’t the kind of man who saves, he claims. Now, Lila must play his games while hunting down the person who stole her life. But she soon learns that betrayal can bind tighter than love ever could.

On our son Benjamin White’s sixth birthday, my husband, Finnian White, stayed out all night taking care of his sister-in-law, Violet Soar. His reason was that she had called because she sprained her ankle. I called him dozens of times, but all my calls were declined. Then, I saw Violet post on her social media feed with the caption: [Finnian is such a good brother-in-law! He came right over when I called!] The attached photo showed Finnian holding her slender ankle. Heartbroken, I confronted him and asked what he had done with Violet that night. He looked at me coldly and said, “Why does your mind always go straight to the gutter? All you know how to do is throw a tantrum at me!” Even Benjamin looked confused and said, “Dad just took care of Aunt Violet for one night, Mom. Why are you acting like a shrew?” Their cold attitude hurt me. This was not the first time. I finally decided to give up, activate the system, and leave this world.

Everyone knows that I'm the woman whom Oliver Reed, the richest man in Jeston, loves the most. Ever since I get pregnant, Oliver dotes on me even more and obeys every whim I have. One day, I realize that I've gotten kidnapped to an auction house after waking up from my nap. To my horror, my husband and his friend group can be seen sitting beneath the stage. Someone says with a grin, "Hey Oliver, how is it that you have time to bring Caroline to the hangout with you today? Everyone keeps claiming that Alexandra has you wrapped around her little finger now that she's pregnant." Oliver looks at the woman next to him. While he looks relatively exasperated, he still says dotingly, "I've been spending so much time with Alexandra that Caroline is already mad at me. Today, I managed to block out some time in my schedule to spend time with her." I do my best to squirm and struggle so that I can seek help from Oliver. Finally, I'm able to attract his attention. But he slowly lifts his bidding card while saying, "Number 7 keeps squirming, so she must be a slutty one. Here's one million dollars—I want her to be on the stage."

"Naughty girl, I know you want more." Santa slaps my rosy cheeks as he thrust into my dripping pussy, his balls hitting the lips of my clit. [Warning: This is a dark taboo novel containing BDSM, gay, gangbang, lesbian, forbidden age gap, step siblings and Erotica stories that leaves you dripping wet and bitting your nails with immense pleasure.] ******* You didn't stumble onto this book by an accident. You came looking for something darker, the kind of craving that wakes up after midnight, when innocence feels like a lie and desire feels like a truth. You pretend to be innocent but I know what you crave behind closed doors, the fantasies that make you dripping wet wanting a cock to thrust into your dripping pussy continuously. Dark Tales of Midnight isn't about fairytales or soft love confession, this book contains all your deepest darkest desires, the sexual experience you always wanted. Every page inside this book leaves you wanting more, so if you keep reading don't pretend you didn't know. You wanted this and here, wanting is only the beginning. Dedicated to all the good girls who love being anything but innocent after the dark.

When my wife, Rebecca Walsh, misses my chemotherapy session for the 99th time, I come across a post on social media. "I won my lover's heart with a kidney. She will surely love me to death, right?" The attached photo shows a couple kissing on a street in Targon. The woman has a small heart-shaped scar on her neck. What a coincidence—it is exactly the same as Rebecca's. The woman who nearly dies for me falls in love with someone else so easily. The comments below are full of encouragement from strangers. "Man, you're so brave. Wishing you everlasting love." "If I were the woman, I would love you to death." I leave a comment too. "I hope you are together until you are in the depths of hell, you cheating pair. As for me, the husband, I will step aside to make way for you." One minute later, the post disappears. It doesn't matter. I post on my own account. I write, "After I spent three years battling cancer, my wife fell in love with the man who's supposed to be the kidney donor." The attached images are our marriage certificate and the same photo of them kissing from earlier.

My childhood sweetheart who promised to marry me the moment I graduated proposed to Camille Willow, my sister, during my graduation ceremony. At that moment, Dennis Malcolm, the most eligible and admired bachelor in Blington City's elite circle, stepped forward and confessed his love for me immediately after my childhood sweetheart's proposal was accepted. For five years after our marriage, Dennis showered me with devotion, treating me with such tenderness that it felt as though I were the center of his world. But everything shattered the day I overheard a conversation between him and his close friend. "Dennis, now that Camille's on top, are you really going to keep pretending with Tracy?" "It doesn't matter. I'll never have Camille. Besides, as long as I'm here, she'll never disrupt Camille's happiness," he answered. The paper notes he held dear, each one carefully preserved, revealed a harsh truth. Each one carried her name, accompanied by heartfelt wishes: "May Camille be released from her burdens. May she find peace within herself." "May Camille achieve all she dreams of, and may her heart love freely." "Camille, we were never meant to be together in this life. I can only hope that in another, we will walk side by side." … Five years of devotion shattered in a single moment of clarity. I crafted a false identity and planned an elaborate drowning to vanish without a trace. From this day forward, in this life and all others, we shall never cross paths again.