Stories Topics Novels & Stories

or, you know, life. It’s okay that he’s talked incessantly on the drive to the hotel about his new business idea. The one that has no actual plans attached to it and consists of “well, weed is legal now in some states” and “I know some guys.” And it’s okay that even at thirty-eight, he’s still so good-looking that the clerk at the front desk looks like she’s in a bit of a daze from his focused attention. I know the feeling, sister. It’s how he got me pregnant at sixteen.

"The snatching" “You’ve been serving them for years and yet! they pay you nothing.” Said Keith Jones’s wife who was very fond of money. “Is there anything you don’t have Martina? I always got you whatever you wanted. I arranged things by working all day and night.” “I’m not complaining----” “Mom, Olivia woke up and she won't stop crying. Please carry her." Interrupted Victoria who was Keith and Martina's 10-year-old baby girl.

It was then he got caught by my Mom to be cheating on her. It was a big blow for my Mom because several times he had promised to end the relationship but only for her to find out after a few months that the mistress was transferred to another house only. I was tired seeing their relationship fall apart. And that is why, here I am in a convent trying to have some peace of mind and saving myself from possible heartaches in the future. I don't believe in fairytales anymore. For lovers, it's only once upon a time they were happy, then they end. So here is my story.

For this reason, I decided to move all then into strange short stories, that is already a storybook of different themes. The w******l policy does not allow me to remove or delete those books, so they will remain there but as a "paused" book. You can find only the introduction of those books on w******l and no else more. But there you can find some covers I made for those stories and that I can not upload here. The stories of a single chapter will continue to be published, of course. Each volume of Strange short stories will have 3 medium-sized stories and about 10 short stories.

Some stories started with hate. This one ended with everything.

There was one solitary, big book on a low table between them. "The title of the tale is The Binding of Autumn," he began, his voice an entrancing whisper just in harmony with the shriek of the fire. “It's the tale of a harvest god who offers a mortal woman a choice: one night of absolute freedom for one year of unimaginable riches for her people." He didn't move as his eyes met hers. "The consent is the matter at hand. It must be freely bestowed, not coerced, and whispered three times into the skin of his throat." “Do you have any idea what sort of story you're going to be reading me tonight?”

Story Note: “Room for One More” is a standalone short from my erotic collectiona mix of intense, sensual, and sometimes forbidden stories that explore the raw edges of desire. Each story introduces new characters, new fantasies, and unapologetically explicit encounters. This particular tale features a taboo dynamic between step-siblings, told with heat, dominance, and no holding back. Reader discretion is advised. *************************************************

My heart is beating very wildly as he is sitting very close to me now. "You go first!" I whispered. "Okay." "I sing so well. I play the guitar. I have never been in love." "Which one is the lie?" "you play the guitar." "Aww. You are wrong." "Ohh. So which one is the lie?" "I have never been in love." He said. "I have actually been in love. It ended in tears sha. Hot, premium tears." He added. I couldn't help but laugh. "Do you mind talking about it? I'm sorry for laughing though."

Don't get it wrong. Sometimes stereotypes were spot on correct and sometimes they weren't. This was again, another case in Brianna Samuels. She wasn't one of those bitches that everyone knew about because of stereotypes, that lived for gossip and brought people down just so they felt better about themselves. Okay, well Brianna did live for gossip, but mostly the harmless type of gossip and she definitely did not live to step on people. The type of gossip she lived for would basically be classified as petty theft in contrast to murder. Basically who dated who and who's hot and whatnot.

The above sentences are the thoughts of the author about what he thinks, but it is my duty to tell all the things he has in his mind. The space science and the beginning of the human era, why I always talk about the past, why I'm interested in the dead stories, why I tell a tale of another time, why I don't like the present and, also why I'm not narrating about those dumbasses who were about to close the mysterious case of random killing by an unidentified criminal (creature)? You might have so many questions and confusions about the fact that I puzzle a simple story in what we call a Riddle…? But you can still believe in me that I'll give you a gift tomorrow.