Sun Wukong Legend Novels & Stories

Hi there. Have you ever heard of the San Francisco Boys? No? That’s surprising. They’re kind of hard to miss — masks, billions of followers on YouTube, death-defying stunts that make your heart stop mid-beat. Reckless. Untouchable. Addictive to watch. Yeah … those guys. BUT … these stories ain’t really about them. Not exactly. They’re about the girls who get pulled into their chaos … and survive. About what happens when one of those boys stops being a legend… and becomes your worst mistake. How do I know? Because I’m one of those girls. Melaena Angélica Blackburn. A girl who fell for a San Francisco boy. Damion Grimm. All-time playboy. Professional pain in my ass. Double world champion. Thrill chaser with a death wish and a god complex. He lives by the rules — HIS rules. Ride hard. Screw fast. Feel nothing. That’s how he keeps his demons on a leash. He doesn’t do blondes. He doesn’t do promises. And he sure as hell doesn’t do me — his best friend’s little sister. He shattered me first. And I’ve hated him ever since … or maybe I just needed a reason to. Because hate starts to feel a lot like something else when it burns hot enough. But … the Blackburn name is cursed. My psycho grandfather? Yeah. Even death didn’t shut him up. Old enemies crawl back. Secrets crack open. Monsters rise. And I've learned real fast that evil doesn’t always look like a monster. Sometimes it wears a familiar face. Control slips. Lines blur. Fate? She’s a cruel bitch. But I’m not the girl who breaks. I’m the one who burns. And I’m going to break every damn rule to get what I want.

He slid a paper across the table, his eyes cold. " Sign it." She blinked, confused. "Why?" "It’s our marriage certificate." He spoke as if discussing the weather. "I’ve already signed it. Your turn." Siya froze. **Marriage?** To a man like him? Her? A whore. Pregnant. She looked up at him, pleading. "I-I can be your maid. Do anything. Just… don’t hurt my baby." Her voice trembled, careful, trying to bargain with the devil himself. But Abhimanyu’s gaze was relentless, unmoved. His tone cut like ice. "I want you to sign it right now." Her heart hammered in her chest. "But… how… why me?" She stuttered, breaking. "I don’t want to marry you." She stood, defiance shaking her body. The word **marriage** tasted like ash, reminding her of someone she loathed beyond reason. Abhimanyu leaned in, his smile devoid of warmth. "You **will** marry me. Or…" The room fell silent, thick with the unspoken threat. **The world knows** what he is capable of. "Plea.se," she whispered. Her voice was barely a breath. Siya’s legs screamed to run. But there was nowhere to go. His voice low, lethal. "Listen to me, TweetyBird. If I can save you, I can ruin you too.' His eyes darkened. "Sign it. And you’ll be mine." "Why me?" Her voice broke. ************ Siya laid on the bed on her fours, her hands tied together with a handcuff as Abhimanyu thrusted slowly from her back. He changed their position making her completely under his mercy. As the sun rose in the sky, he uncuffed her. "Scream my name!" He groaned going faster than before. But his pace didn’t slacken at all. He had turned into a needy beast, who was ruining every ounce of sanity left in Siya. *********** ***********

On the night of the full moon, my fated mate, Alpha Chase Howler of the Redstone Pack, rejects me right in front of everyone. He has one arm slung around my best friend, Bella Hooks. "Daisy, you're too much of a traditionalist, not to mention you're very domineering. Bella, on the other hand, is very understanding and docile. She's the one who's meant to be my Luna." I try to explain to Chase that this is the Moon Goddess' arrangement for us. Yet, Bella clutches her chest before collapsing into Chase's arms, her eyes already reddened. "Daisy, I'm not a powerful healer like you. I know that I'm far too useless. If my death allows you to be with Chase, then I shall die right now." Chase is heartbroken, to say the least. He forcibly rejects our bond, completely disregarding the fact that we've been together for years. When I spit out some blood and collapse to the ground, Chase doesn't even bother glancing at me. Instead, he busies himself in comforting Bella, who has suffered from shock. As my punishment for making Bella sad, Chase decides to make me kneel before the altar until I'm willing to admit my mistakes. "You can only get up to your feet when you decide to apologize to Bella." I end up kneeling before the altar for three days and three nights before finally collapsing into a dead faint. When I stir awake once again, two mating marks have occupied my neck. I see the Alpha twins, Kyle and Ryan Grayback, standing in front of me. Legend has it that they are the violent and bloodthirsty rulers of the Snowlight Pack in the north. Later on, Chase begins regretting his decision to reject me like mad. He relentlessly pleads with me to give him another chance. But my mates are quick to refute, "How dare you ogle our Luna, you filthy mongrel!"

Every other student could hear the inner thoughts of Chloe Yates, the campus belle. It was like a radio station was broadcasting her mind, and unfortunately for me, the broadcast was usually bad news. It started during the ROTC courses in our freshman year. I was doubled over with terrible period cramps and asked to sit out. Chloe just shook her head, letting out a dramatic, pitying sigh. "Oh, this is awful," her internal voice broadcast to everyone. "Should I tell everyone the truth? Sylvie is totally faking it. If the sergeant finds out she's lying, he's going to punish the whole class because of her." The sergeant, hearing her thoughts, immediately assumed I was a liar. He forced the entire class to run 30 laps as punishment. After that, no one would talk to me. Later, when I applied for the need-based financial aid grant, Chloe went on a rampage with her internal thoughts. "Her family isn't poor!" her voice screamed in everyone's heads. "They have a car and a house. She's just vain. She's trying to scam the college out of grant money so she can buy a new phone. I feel so bad for the actual poor kid whose spot she's stealing." Once the class heard that, they silently agreed to vote against my application. Without that money, I had no choice but to work three part-time jobs just to survive. I worked myself into the ground until I finally gave out. I collapsed in the classroom while clutching my chest, suffering a massive heart attack. I cried out, begging my classmates to call 911. However, Chloe's voice cut through the air right then. "She doesn't have a heart condition. She's pregnant. She's trying to trick a guy into taking her to the hospital so she can get an abortion, and then she's going to frame whoever helps her for getting her knocked up." Terrified of being blamed, the students backed away from me like I was radioactive. They stood there and watched as I died on the classroom floor. Right up until the moment I died, I never understood why my life had turned into such a nightmare. However, when I snapped my eyes open, I had returned to the day of the ROTC courses. The cramps were back, and the sun was beating down on me. Chloe did not know one crucial detail. This time, I could hear her thoughts too.

My husband, Luca, had a childhood sweetheart named Sophia. Years ago, during a brutal gang shootout, Sophia shielded him from the worst of the bloodshed, and since then, she had suffered from severe PTSD. Because of that, Luca would push aside family business every year and fly to our estate on a secluded island off the coast of Sicily to spend three months “helping her recover.” “Victoria, she lost her mind because of me,” he told me. “I’m responsible for her. I hope you can be magnanimous.” So, I nodded. And eventually, I got used to the fact that every year, my husband would disappear for three months to fulfill what he called a moral obligation. That was until the day I flew in without warning to inspect the family’s money-laundering network on that island and saw him. In the town square, under the bright Mediterranean sun, Luca was standing there with a five-year-old boy by his side. “Papa, how long do we have to hide on this island?” the child asked. “I want to go to New York. I want to see the Empire State Building.” Luca laughed gently and scooped him up in his arms. With his other hand, he held Sophia’s. “Antonio, be good,” he said affectionately. “Papa’s position is… complicated. When you turn eighteen and pass the family’s initiation ceremony, I’ll kill that woman and her dead old man. Then, I’ll take you back to New York to inherit the entire Corleone family.” I stood in the shadows, unseen. Slowly, I lit a cigarette. The smoke curled around me as their voices drifted over, the conversation getting more vicious as it went. Sophia leaned into his chest, her tone sweet and coy. “Luca, I’ve been with you for seven years without a name or a title. How much longer are our son and I supposed to live like ghosts?” Luca sighed. “I don’t have a choice. The old man in the Corleone family is still alive. I married Victoria just to get her territory. Don’t worry. I’ve been adding something to her milk every day. She’ll never get pregnant in this lifetime. My family bloodline will only continue through you.” The last thread of reason in my mind snapped. In the six years of marriage we shared, I had been infertile. I’d taken countless hormone injections to stimulate ovulation. I’d knelt in church and prayed more times than I could count. Yet, all along, the devil poisoning me was my own husband. The initial shock faded quickly into rage. I crushed out my cigarette and pulled out my phone. Then, I dialed my uncle, the family’s clean-up man. “Uncle Rocco,” I said calmly, “Luca betrayed me. He betrayed the family. Order a coffin in the finest black walnut for me, and make it large, large enough to fit a family of three.”