Tainted Heart Novels & Stories

“I don’t want to be a fucking bet, Brant.” Something inside me shattered. I couldn’t take it anymore. I pulled her into my arms, the gun still clutched in one hand, my other arm wrapping around her desperately. I grabbed her trembling hand and pressed it against my chest, right over my heart. “Fuck… I should hate you,” I whispered. “I should despise you. That’s what I told myself over and over since the moment you came into my life. But no matter how much I tried, somehow you carved yourself into me. Into this dark, black, rotten heart of mine that I thought could never feel anything real. And it terrifies me, Sable. It terrifies me because it’s you.”

And inside the vessel, sitting on a throne of liquid mercury, was the Silver Twin—the version of Ivy that had never known a human emotion. "The traitor isn't a person, Grandmother," the Twin said, her voice echoing through the lab. "The traitor is the 'Lethal Devotion' itself. It’s too strong to be contained in a human heart. So... we built a bigger heart." The Twin held up a remote, and the red string—the black, pulsing vein—suddenly tightened. It didn't pull Dante toward Ivy. It pulled them both toward the ship. Dante grabbed the surgical scissors from the floor, but as he turned to face the Twin, his hand began to pixelate. The white room began to flicker, revealing a third layer beneath

I go to the table. The page is dense, old handwriting in two languages, English and something older that I recognize as a Creole variant from my archive research. The English portion is a full clinical description of a working called The Lover's Ruin, which I have read about in Beatrice Ashworth's journals but which has never been as specific as what is written here. I read. The curse activates upon inheritance of the Sterling fortune. This I knew. The compulsion layer drives the heir to sabotage genuine love through pride, cruelty, and self-destruction. This I knew.

I quickly take a hold of her neck with the same right hand , and this wakes her with a shock. I feel her body shaking beneath my own , her body radiates….fear. I love it! Her baby doe eyes , shine with such innocence – the innocence of which I want to ravish and destroy. I want to be the privileged one to taint her perfect record – her perfect self. I want to taint her , over and over again until her very flesh smells of me and my sin. Even as I watch her tremble beneath me – the undying love I have for her stops me from penetrating her. Besides my love , the promise not to taint her before we are married is what I grant her. However, she stills looks at me as if I am crazy enough to break

I just can’t get enough of that. The way she presents herself, the elegance in her body language, the simplicity, innocence, yet the glamorous ambiance turns me on every time. The kindness that she has in her heart, the sharpness of the tongue, her anger. Hell, I miss everything so fucking much. Not a single day after we were apart from one another, that woman is haunting me. Every day she is here torturing me in one or another way, sometimes it’s her smile, or her smart mouth, or her anger. They are tormenting me without words, slowly, like poison.

Memories of biting her there just a few days ago flooded his mind, and he couldn’t help but feel a profound sense of remorse. A beautiful woman with a heartbeat tattoo on her collarbone exudes an air of subtle allure. A small heart was at the end with an open space. The tattoo was small but enough to melt any person to devour her with love. Her collarbone is delicately defined, drawing attention to the intricate tattoo. The design features a lifelike heartbeat line, elegantly rendered in dark ink, mirroring the rhythm of her own heart. The tattoo adds a touch of mystique to her appearance, symbolizing the vitality and passion that reside within her. As her heartbeat flutters beneath the inke

Love is a complex being. One that most would sell their all for to decipher, but in most cases their all isn't nearly enough to cover the cost of this delicate emotion that we all want to feel, understand, charish and give back to the one most deserving of being gifted by this godly given. All we want is something pure, something clean and untouched by our sinful hands, but that is as rare as chickens teething.

TITLE Tainted Memories AUTHOR Honesty577 . This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination. . COPYRIGHT All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the written permission of the author except for use of quotations in a book review. If you want this book to be placed on your platform please see contact information on the author page. . DEDICATION This book is dedicated to my many loyal readers, my creator and my ancestors.

Just‌ opened t⁠he d‍oor and let me walk out. Th‌e drive home was a blur. Rai⁠n started‌ falling ha⁠lfway the‌re, streakin‍g the win⁠dshield‌ like m‌y‌ tears. I kept replaying ev​erything—Stefan’s⁠ rej‍ection, th⁠e⁠ pre‍g​nancy, my stupid hall⁠ucin‍ation. And u⁠nderneath it al​l, the guilt. Con‍r⁠ad had‍ been trying. We’d been trying. Pizza nigh‍ts with David, quiet⁠ talks, even the sex had felt like r​eco‌nnecting. But it w​asn’t enough for m⁠e. I k‌ept sabotaging i‌t.

Zira’s heart hammered in her chest as they parted. The howls turned into screams. Her hands flew to her mouth as she watched the biggest wolf she’d ever laid eyes on twist and groan. Its bones snapped as it morphed from wolf to human. Their leg was caught in a bear trap and was shredded all the way to the bone from all the twisting and moving during their transformation.