The Unravelling Book Novels & Stories

There was no way she was going to tell Carol she had overslept as a result of staying up all night trying to finish up an article. Specifically, because Carol disliked excuses. “Excuses won't do the job,” she'd always say. “I'm sorry,” Emily finally spoke reverently after Carol gave her a sideways glance. Carol ignored Emily and pulled out a file with a picture on it, dumping it in front of her, “Rex Hale. Billionaire tech mogul. I need an interview from him.” Huh? Emily frowned slightly as she flipped through the pages. Clearly, this wasn't what she had expected.

Slower each time. Eventually, I pulled my knees to my chest. My arms wrapped tightly around the pillow like I could keep the day from unraveling completely. But it already had. And somewhere in the stillness, I broke.

“They are the memories. The sealed spells. The frozen moments of the crimes they cataloged. Every single one is waiting to be opened.” Emma lifted her head, her artistic eye catching something the others missed. “The runes on that iron book aren’t still, Evangeline. They’re wriggling, like worms trying to escape the binding.” She pointed toward the third aisle, where the carpet of silver dust wasn't uniform; it was disturbed, moving subtly against the laws of inertia, like a slow-motion ripple spreading across a pond. “Something’s moving,” Cassius confirmed, dropping into a low defensive crouch. “Something that belongs here. Something that hasn't moved in ten thousand years.”

Tangled- Book 5 of The Dark Fairytales (An Erotic Retelling of Rapunzel) Trapped in a huge castle from birth by her mother, Rapunzel itches for the taste of the land beyond it. When a petty thief, Noah tells her to drop her hair, she's intrigued by his masculine features and becomes desperate to flee from her obsessive mother. When she finally does, she's thrown into a world filled with passion and with the clock ticking, she struggles to hide from her mother and pursue her innermost ambitions- ride a cock.

I reached out and delicately retrieved it from the shelf, cradling it in my hands. A surge of anticipation coursed through my veins as I opened the book, its pages pristine and unmarred. The words within held the promise of hidden truths, a key to unlock the enigma that had consumed my thoughts. I read the title embossed in elegant lettering: "Tears of the Moon: Secrets Untold." My heart raced with excitement as I turned to the first page. The words danced before my eyes, weaving a narrative of forbidden knowledge and clandestine affairs. It spoke of a world beyond the ordinary, a realm where ancient forces converged and hidden battles waged under the pale light of the moon.

When everything failed all these years with too much betrayals, so many deep and dirty secrets that were revealed and massive amounts of unforgivable lies that all of us have been through, I still consider them as pieces that were beautiful despite being the ugliest things that I have ever been through in my entire life. They were those kinds of moments that I would still consider beautiful despite the ugliness in it because those ugliness wouldn't help us in achieving something so beautiful that even I didn't expect would still happen. It's still beautiful in such a way that it helped me finally reach the end of something that I had with Hugo long ago that was suppose to be beautifully unfi

I trudged up and down the aisle another time and let my gaze wander and sweep one last glance across the rows, and was about to leave when my gaze fell on a thin book almost going unnoticed, sandwiched between two thick books at the third row of the last bookshelf. Out of curiosity, I plucked it out, my heart pounding as I read the title: ‘Untold Tales of the Pack: A Memoir’ , the name of the author has been scribbled off by a sharpie. The book looks new compared to the ones I read. My throat clicked dry as I opened the book. I gasped when I read the first line: ‘The Renaud pack is known for its strength, wealth and integrity but did you know that the pack alphas are also cursed?’ Here, fin

Hunting me. NO! The denial is pure instinct, a flare of terror brighter than the Gardener’s eyes. But my consciousness… it’s fraying. Splintering like old wood under an axe. I am the cliff crumbling. I am the roots screaming as they’re ripped from bedrock. I am the distant, icy laughter vibrating up from the deepest pit within me. The Unraveler. Seizing its moment. Coordinating the assault from its cell. Its chilling amusement is a counterpoint to the Gardener’s furious screeching. Let the anchor break. Let the chaos reign. Let me out.