The Unspeakable Book Novels & Stories

INSATIABLE VOWS Some vows are never meant to be broken Chiara Vance gave her fiancé seven years of loyalty, her sharp legal mind, and the empire he built entirely on her back. He repaid her with her own sister, caught together an hour before their wedding. Heartbroken, she runs blindly into the storm with nothing left to lose. A stranger's car cuts across her path. By midnight, she has married him instead. Alessio isn't who he claims to be. He didn't stop for Chiara by accident — he found the one weapon capable of destroying his enemy, and he intends to use it without mercy. But within the first hour of their alliance, he says something that stops her cold: a truth about her own m

In my third year as a blind massage therapist, Henry Young took his employees on a company retreat. By sheer coincidence, he ended up booking me. When he saw me, he remained perfectly composed, so much so that even his breathing did not falter. I served him the same way I treated every other client. Then his phone rang. My hands paused for a moment as my own voice, young and girlish, came through his phone speaker. His employees immediately started teasing him. Henry simply explained in a gentle voice, “My wife recorded that when she was young and didn’t know any better.” Just as he was leaving, Henry suddenly turned around. “Anya Walt, I’ve never forgotten you. “Are you really goi

It sat low in my stomach, constant and hungry, and every time he touched me it only got worse. The club was underground, the entrance unmarked except for two men in black who nodded at Dante and opened the heavy door without a word. Music pulsed low and dark through the space. Red lighting washed over leather booths and a long bar. People moved through the shadows in expensive clothes, some already half-undressed, the air thick with smoke and perfume and sex.

“You’re being paranoid. Or maybe you’re just not attracted to me anymore. Which is it?” I opened my mouth, but how could I explain it? The sensation wasn’t fear exactly. It was warmer. Deeper. Like invisible fingers trailing down my spine, teasing the sensitive spot just above my ass. My clit gave a faint, traitorous throb. I pressed my thighs together, mortified. “Stan, please. I’m not crazy. It’s this new book I got today. Something about it—”

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And he was addicted to his little girl’s tight pussy. This was only the first story in the book of our sins. There were ninety-nine more ways to damn ourselves still waiting. And I could not wait to fall even deeper.

Because disobedience meant death. And maybe worse. --- Far in the distance, the last of Kael’s convoy sped through the forest roads, tires grinding against wet gravel, engines humming like shadows fleeing the storm. Inside the Rolls-Royce Cullinan Black Badge, Kael sat in the passenger seat, the ancient tome resting on his lap. The Book of Damned. Bound in something no one dared identify. Etched with runes that seemed to slither under the eye. Heavy as if filled with the weight of every soul it condemned.

"Ohhh! Alfredo!" I covered my mouth when I saw Daddy having sex with another woman. The girl was excused while Daddy was riding her. I shed tears when I saw the pig they were doing inside our house. I covered my mouth when I saw Daddy having sex with another woman. The girl was excused while Daddy was riding her. I shed tears when I saw the pig they were doing inside our house. The thickness of their faces inside their room, Mommy, they made a pig!"

“Has he been studying all these books?” I looked at the desk. One book was lying open on his desk. The page it was turned to had a drawing of a person who looked like they were screaming. I continued staring at the opened page. The title at the top of the page said "Vampire Possession and Mind Control." I looked away from the book for a moment, My blood went cold. Had Noah known this might happen? Had he been preparing for it? I tried to look into the book one more time but

She looked nothing like the old librarian she was used to with her big spectacles and prominent wrinkles on her forehead. “G-good morning, ma’am!” Millie greeted the lady with a timid smile. The librarian lowered her specs and studied Millie like she was a police officer. “What can I do for you missy?” The lady spoke in a harsh tone which seemed natural for her. “Uh… I was just wondering, is the book called, The Art of Poetry available right now, ma’am?” Millie asked her. “The Art of Letting Go is the only one available, but if you want to see it in the big picture, you can just go into the movie house…” The lady blurted out, chuckling a bit.