Stream Of Consciousness Novels Novels & Stories

I was dismembered and thrown into an abandoned warehouse. Before my consciousness faded away, I used the last bit of my strength to send a message via mind link to Timothy Russell, the Alpha heir that I had loved for six years. "Timothy, I'm in so much pain..." The next second, a cold mental barrier crashed down between us, cutting off all communication. That was his response to me. I knew I had been too presumptuous. I had disturbed him while he was at an auction helping his foster sister, Rochell Lucas. The moment my heart stopped beating, Timothy, who was helping Rochell put on a bracelet, felt his chest cave in. While everyone watched, the future Alpha knelt on the ground as countless bone-deep wounds appeared across his body out of nowhere. He convulsed in agony, screaming my name. Only then did everyone notice a glowing blood pact mark appearing on his tongue. I remembered. Once upon a time, he swore an oath to the moon. "If I ever betray Leah, every bit of suffering she has endured will return to me tenfold."

Married for five years, Lorenzo, the underboss of the Moretti family, had never been without a woman. He found my “noble lady” posture stiff and vanilla. Dancers from Trinacria, headliners from the city’s nightclubs, his rotating stream of mistresses could fill the entire estate. Yet whenever I was displeased, whether it was throwing drinks or kicking someone out, Lorenzo never intervened. He’d only lit his cigar with casual amusement and said, “Relax. It’s just fun. No one can touch your position.” Then a clumsy, naive maid appeared. Unlike the others, she wasn’t flashy. However, when Lorenzo returned, bloodied, she’d hand him a cup of warm tea, her eyes red-rimmed. She watched him with pure admiration while he handled the family business. Lorenzo said the estate felt cold and lifeless except for her. He said only when she panicked did he feel like a hero being needed, rather than just a husband in a political marriage. Until she accidentally broke an antique vase left by my mother… Before I could react, Lorenzo stepped in and shielded her trembling form, glaring at me as if I were the enemy. “What’s wrong with you? If you’re crazy, go see a shrink. Don’t scare her like a rabid dog!” Watching his careful, protective expression, I smiled. I guess it was time for the Moretti family underboss to be replaced.

In my past life, I used the little one in my womb to force Richard Reynold into marrying me. On the day of our wedding, his beloved, Elise Brie, leaped into the sea, taking her own life. She left behind a letter saying: "True love is no match for power and money. It is my loss." Richard, after learning the news of her death, was unaffected. In fact, he went through our wedding with a smile on his face. However, on the day of our son's third birthday, Richard took us to a diving trip. While 300-feet underwater, he ripped off the tube of our oxygen tanks, drowning me and my son. After my death, my consciousness remained as a spirit. I watched on as he placed my corpse in front of Elise's grave as an offering. He said, "Ellie, I've finally avenged you. I hope this will bring you some peace in your afterlife." Soon after, my vision darkened. When I opened my eyes once more, I realized I was back at the night when I was trying to use our son to force Richard into marriage…

Maya Lin has a lot of secrets. To the world, she is a struggling single mom trying to finish college. But online, she is "Velvet Rose," a famous erotica author whose stories pay the bills for her and her four-year-old son. Her most famous book? A retelling of the single most reckless night of her life: her eighteenth birthday at Secret Pleasures, a masked club where she gave her virginity to a stranger. What Maya doesn’t know is that this stranger never forgot her. Professor Adrian Black is cold, cruel, and broken. Since the death of his wife, he has shut down his heart. His only escape is reading the novels of a mysterious online author—the only woman who seems to capture the memory of the one night he felt alive again. When Adrian catches Maya writing a steamy scene in his class, she thinks her life is over. But Adrian doesn't report her. He blackmails her. “Be my assistant, Ms. Lin. Or say goodbye to your scholarship.” Adrian thinks he’s punishing a bratty student. He has no idea that the quiet girl in his office is the author he’s obsessed with.

The city was overrun by zombies. My girlfriend, Callie Bernson, the team leader, had taken my best friend, Dan Harrington, and fled in our only armored vehicle, leaving me behind in the shelter to die. Outside, the scratching of claws against metal echoed through the corridors. The defensive barricades were already starting to fail. My heart sank into despair. I raised my gun to my temple, ready to end it quickly, when a stream of floating text suddenly appeared in front of my eyes. [It’s hilarious. That cheating couple thinks they’re heading to Paradise, but that place has fallen. It’s packed with high-level zombies now.] [Don’t die, PC! The person in a coma in the shelter—the one your so-called best friend called dead weight and abandoned—is actually the only S-class ability user. Once she wakes up, she’ll wipe the floor with everything!] [Just you wait. When your buddy crawls back here in disgrace and finds the big boss awake, he will go to step in and steal the credit for saving her.] [Hurry up and die already, cannon fodder. I can’t wait for the tragic apocalypse romance between the best friend and the big boss.] I lowered the gun and sprinted toward the quarantine room. Inside, a woman lay on the bed, sleeping peacefully. I strode over and slapped her hard across the face. “Honey!” I shouted. “Time to get to work!”

When I open my eyes again, I notice that I'm lying on the bed of my archnemesis, Ashton Ford. Ashton calmly puts on his clothes before tossing a card at me, telling me to get out. He then looks at the caretaker stationed by the door and asks helplessly, "Is Sunny still throwing a tantrum? Tell her that we're going to be engaged soon. She can't leave women in my bed just because she's angry." I'm about to say something when a stream of comments appears before my eyes. "Here comes another one hoping to sleep her way into a prestigious position. Mr. Ford only loves Sunny. If she didn't comfort him, he might have taken his own life after what happened to Elizabeth a long time ago." "Can the author stop trying to force these flings onto him? It wasn't easy for Sunny to achieve success after taking over as the female lead. I want to see them live a sweet married life." "Unless Mr. Ford's dead first love, Elizabeth Miller, comes back to life, no one can possibly touch Sunny's position in Mr. Ford's heart." Confusion is written all over my face. I'm Elizabeth Miller. Since when did I become Ashton's first love?

I had always been naturally celibate. Yet somehow, I still ended up chemically castrating myself. It was all because, in my previous life, my wife's precious idealized lover, a libidinous playboy, went viral as a pickup artist and dumped every side effect of his indulgent lifestyle onto me. He spent nights partying in hotel rooms with groups of women while I collapsed from kidney failure and was rushed to the ER. He lounged in clubs with women in both arms, downing bottle after bottle, while I went into an allergic shock and nearly died. I confronted my wife about it, but she shoved me away impatiently. "Shane already told me nothing happened with those women! You're just jealous and faking illness to slander him!" However, the playboy's actions only escalated. Chasing bigger thrills, he even started getting involved with men in drag. Thanks to him, I caught an STD, which pushed my wife to demand a divorce. I went to the hospital for treatment, but the doctors could not find the cause. Instead, they tossed me straight into an addiction rehab program. Later, for the sake of boosting his live stream numbers, the playboy went wild in Southwind Asira's nightlife scene. After he spent an entire night drowning in pleasure, I, drained past my limit, collapsed and died on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day he began his online hunt.

Brielle Davenport tells me to test out rat poison on her childhood sweetheart, Trevor Whitlock's live stream, just so the popularity can be boosted. "All you lose is a life, you know. Meanwhile, Trev has always dreamed of becoming a popular streamer." Then, Brielle hands the rat poison to me. I don't turn her down. Instead, I lift the rat poison to my lips and drink it right in front of the camera. Naturally, my actions boost Trevor to the top spot of the platform, making him the most popular male streamer. The delighted Brielle is quick to throw him an afterparty to celebrate his success. The next day, when Brielle opens the door to the studio, she notices my stiff figure on the floor, my lips still bluish-purple from the poison. She has always been cold and aloof, and yet, she crumbles from anxiety on the spot. I used to come back to life within two hours after my death. Yet, this time, I show no signs of life. Brielle keeps calling out my name. Later on, she can only listen in disbelief as the doctor pronounces my death. Meanwhile, I've already stirred awake in my original world and started my life anew. The truth is, I've transmigrated into this book eight times in a row. In the first seven times, Brielle had saved me seven times, but she also hurt me that many times. In the eighth attempt, I return seven lives to her. Finally, I'm able to leave this world once and for all.

Every year, my husband, Daniel Trahan, elopes with his childhood sweetheart, Callie Reed, on our wedding anniversary. On that day, they do everything that a loving couple does. On our fifth year anniversary, Daniel ordered me to put on a maid's outfit and serve them on hand and foot for 24 hours. "You've always wanted me to spend more time with you, right? I'm giving you a chance right now. Tomorrow, I'll come home and have one meal with you. "By the way, Callie's lower back hurts. You'll have to support her whenever she needs you." I complete all of my tasks obediently. When we meet up the next day, I hand him a divorce agreement. Daniel scoffs at the sight. Then, he drops his signature casually. "Oh? Are you playing hard to get again? Every time, you'll end up begging me to return to you while crying like an abandoned pet. If you're that eager to let everyone see how big a doormat you are, I shall grant your wish. "When you come crawling back to me this time, I'll stream the whole thing live so that everyone can see how spineless you are." Daniel thinks I'm throwing another tantrum this time. What he doesn't know is that the day of his elopement with Callie is also the day I get to go on my private date. Now, that lover of mine demands a proper title from me.

My younger sister was crazy about novels and always envied the way ordinary heroines pick up penniless heroes and climb the social ladder. So, she started picking up men wherever she could. Until one day, a man with a face covered in sores collapsed at our doorstep. I instantly recognized the signs of syphilis and warned my sister repeatedly, and only then did she give up the idea. However, fate had other plans: my sister's best friend "picked him up" instead and married into a wealthy family. My sister held a grudge. On my birthday, she locked me in my room and set it on fire. No matter how desperately I begged, she refused to open the door. Outside, she sneered: "I know you're just scared I'll live better than you, so you want to drag me down into misery with you. People like you don't even deserve to be a sister!" I burned alive, my body reduced to nothing but ashes. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day my sister insisted on "picking up that man." This time, I quietly stepped back, letting her have her way—of course, I chose to let her succeed.