The Lost Metal

"Wider, Millie. Yes, that's it." I lay weakly on the examination table, my hands unconsciously gripping the sheets. The voice behind me was low and restrained, but it made my ears burn. This examination position was too embarrassing. My buttocks were forced to arch high like some kind of submissive gesture. "Doctor, I can't open any wider..." I bit my lower lip, my voice trembling deliberately. I could see my reflection in the metal bars of the examination table. My messy hair stuck to my flushed cheeks as my eyes shone with a watery, dreamy glow.

Calen was a benchwarmer on the university swim team, someone who never actually competed. The captain, Karl, was everything he wasn’t, a campus golden boy. Three records broken. A new girlfriend every other week. One night, Calen realized he’d left something behind and went back to the locker room. That was when he heard it. Ragged breathing. Strained, barely held back. And beneath it… the slow, awful sound of metal bending under pressure. He pushed the door open. Karl stood with his back to him. His bare muscles writhed beneath his skin, moving wrong, his spine standing out in sharp ridges. His fingers were dug deep into the steel locker, nails tearing through metal, leaving long, brutal gouges. The air was thick with the smell of blood… and something wild. Predatory. Karl snapped around. His eyes burned gold in the dark. Blood stained the corner of his mouth, and when he bared his teeth, the canines were far too long. Far too sharp. He ran. He barely took two steps before something crashed into him from behind, slamming him to the floor. Karl’s weight pinned him down, his body radiating heat… too hot, almost painful. A low voice brushed his ear. “You saw something you weren’t meant to see.” “I won’t say anything….” Karl lowered his head, his nose grazing his neck as he inhaled slowly, deeply. “…You smell fucking irresistible.”

Thirty years ago, a progressive rock band called The Yellow Kings began recording what would become their first and final album. Titled “The Final Reconciliation,” the album was expected to usher in a new renaissance of heavy metal, but it was shelved following a tragic concert that left all but one dead. The sole survivor of that horrific incident was the band’s lead guitarist, Aidan Cross, who’s kept silent about the circumstances leading up to that ill-fated performance—until now. For the first time since the tragedy, Aidan has granted an exclusive interview to finally put rumors to rest and address a question that has haunted the music industry for decades: What happened to The Yellow Kings? The answer will terrify you. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

This is wrong,” he stated the obvious. Eyes locked with mine like a metal to a piece of magnet. “Yet feels so right,” my response came out curt and sharp. That’s how much the tension has me caged. He came in contact with me, his breaths erratic and mine weren’t any different at the feel of his touch. Something has shifted and he it was no longer what it used to be between us. No psychic is needed to spell that out. But how? He’s Noel, the guy I’ve sworn to spend the rest of my life tormenting. And I’m Cheryl, the girl he’s promised to never let know peace.

Alana and Alena are identical twins. One unfavorable night their father was attacked by the gang. He was almost killed. Luckily, he was still breathing, but he needed a lot of money for his operation. Alena offered herself as an exchange for her father's life. The only one who could save them from losing their father was the leader of the Blue Knuckles, Allessandro Castellucio. Alana drugged her twin sister on her wedding day and volunteered herself as a bride to the Mafia boss. Allessandro Castellucio was known for murdering, torturing, and making money. He was well defined as a heartless creature. A devil existed in a place called heaven because of his money and power. But what would happen if a metal was put in a foundry and burned with unstoppable fire?

The train arrived with a screech of metal on metal, and subconsciously I boarded and found a seat and gazed out the window as if somehow, the tunnel walls rushing by was the only thing that could grant my wish. "I wish you could see me," I whispered the deep words, picturing his face as I spoke. "Like really see me. I wish you could love me just the way I love you." Closing my eyes, I began to feel the weight of the unshed tears behind my eyelids. But just before I brushed them off I murmured again. "Just once, I want to know what it would be like if you truly loved me back." With a final sigh, I wiped the tears fighting to breakfree. Little did I know, some wishes come at a terrible price. When Asher Smith's boyfriend, supermodel Xander Fauler, wakes from a car accident with amnesia, their cold relationship transforms into something passionaate and real. For six blissful months, Asher experiences the love he always craved—until Xander's memories return, along with his icy demeanor. What was once six month's of undeniable love and pleasure just as he had always wanted, slowly turned into a nightmare that he had dreaded so much for the longest time. Amidst the uncertainty of his spot in his love life, Asher began to notice some odd changes in Xander, making him question if their relationship was ever real. As he tries to get a grip of his love life he uncovers a dangerous obsession lurking in Xander's inner circle and a traumatic secret from his past, putting him no way further from his recent doubt, now Asher must decide: walk away from heartbreak or fight for a love trapped beneath scars?

Ronan is a 19-year old man training to become a Nightblade, a magical monster hunter that kills the things that go bump in the night. The problem is, Ronan suffers from an ancient curse that prevents him from accessing his magic, no matter how hard he trains or pushes his limits. But that all changes one day when his temple is attacked by a new dark force, one so vicious and terrifying that not even the most powerful spellcasters and Nightblades are able to fend it off. And when this monstrous army leaves behind a fragment of metal that Ronan puts into a sword, Ronan finds that his magic is unlocked through the power of the Black Hellblade. Now, Ronan must discover what exactly a good man is to do with evil magic. Join Ronan on his harrowing quest for strength through a brutal, cold world in this medieval, fantasy, level-up adventure.The Black Hellblade is created by Samuel Rust, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

My coworkers and I are forcibly dragged into a bizarre game with the initial title displayed as "War of the Plants". Everyone crowds around to choose camps or safe houses with abundant water resources. I am the only one who picks a plastic apartment in the desert with no water or electricity. My female supervisor mocks me in front of everyone, saying I must be out of my mind. No one is willing to team up with me, and they even bet I won't last three days. When choosing abilities, everyone rushes for practical powers like spatial storage or metal control. I, however, choose reverse photosynthesis that allows me to gain energy from air humidity. Everyone immediately mutes me in the game. Clearly, no one wants to hear my desperate cries for help later. But when the system revokes team permissions and administrator functions, everyone is stunned. The game's name is reset to "Magnet Apocalypse".

"Finders keepers," Deangelo growled, his voice all sharp edges. "I found her first, commoners, she belongs to me. The only reason she's still breathing is because I saved her from that fucking fire." Romano snorted, pushing his way further inside. "You think you can just claim her like that? She's not a damn trophy, Scorpion." Fernando gave a series of hand gestures in sign language. Deangelo translated, "You may have found her, but that does not make her yours. We have a stake here, Papi." Vincenzo's voice cut like a knife through the tension. "This isn't some playground game. She's a person, not a prize to be fought over?" As their voices rose, they suddenly fell silent, snapping their eyes to Rosita. She was rushing towards the door. DeAngelo's eyes narrowed as he took a step towards her. "Little peasant, don't even think about it." **** Rosita's life has been anything but ordinary. Homeschooled and sheltered by her overprotective father after a near-fatal stalking incident, she dreams of escaping to college and pursuing her passion for music. But her father's plans to enroll her in an online university leave her feeling trapped and desperate. On the day, she finally decides to away, a fire overtakes their home, trapping her in her room. Just when she thinks all hope is lost, her metal door is broken down—not by her father, but by Deangelo Luis Valladares, the most-feared mafia drug lord in the whole of Mexico. With an intriguing, sinister smile, he extends his hand to Rosita through the smoke-filled room. Will Rosita take his hand and let him save her, or will she be taken by force? Can a breathtaking beauty like Rosita survive in a world ruled by mafia dons who live like kings and control Mexico City?

I need your body pressed against mine. Your warmth, your smell, the taste of your , I need you.” His deep voice rang in the dark room. He pulled her closer and stated placing gentle . She was tied to bed with leg wide open. “Please do not do that.” She pleaded. “Don’t worry I will go gentle on you.” he said picking up the whip from the ground. “After all, I still have to make you mine.” He completed pinching her n****e. - Grasis was a dangerous beast. He had two hobbies: blood and . He drank men's blood and girls. His life is full of blood and pain. He had no weakness but suddenly she appeared in front of him, taking his breath, making his metal heart to beat again and filling his heart with warmth. Cruel and ruthless man starts craving only one thing in his life and that was Ayla’s body. He made her his slave. He owns and claimed her.