They're Selling Chocolate Spongebob Novels & Stories

When you're a nerd and had a juicy night with the notorious bad boy. You're 💔 to find out the night was a game. He's dared to take your v card. Yrs later, you saw him, the rising hockey star, on a national tv show. When he’s asked why he's always single, Him: I'm waiting for my girl to accept my apology. Then he looked straight at the camera. You heard your name "Evie, I'm sorry. " In less than an hour, #foundevie is the hottest hashtag on social media...

On the first day of school, my roommate, Kelly Anderson, claimed she was the Wolf Princess. She strutted in wearing what she proudly called wolf fur. One glance was all it took for me to see that it was fake. That was clearly fake. "Stella, what was that look? Get on your knees!" Kelly exclaimed. She even held up a toad, claiming it was a rare golden toad the clan leader had taken ages to obtain for her. I grabbed the toad and shoved it straight into her mouth. "You think you're all that? If you're the Wolf Princess, then who am I?"

⚠️ Mature Readers Only ⚠️ This is a bold, no-limits collection of forbidden fantasies and boundary-pushing desires. Expect step-relations, possessive attraction, group dynamics, female/female encounters, dominant personalities, and relationships that cross every line society says should never be crossed. These interconnected stories are unapologetically intense, emotionally charged, and designed for readers who enjoy their fiction dark, daring, and highly provocative. There are no sweet fairy tales here. Only temptation, obsession, and characters willing to risk everything for what they crave. If you're looking for innocent romance, this book may not be for you. If you're looking for something far more daring, welcome inside.

On the day of our daughter's full-month celebration, Harvey McKinzie walked onto the stage holding the hand of his widowed, heavily pregnant sister-in-law. "Honey, to be honest with you—my sister-in-law's baby is mine." His parents followed behind, looking completely unapologetic. "We're the ones who made it happen. We drugged them. Our oldest son may be gone, but the family can't be without an heir. "Harvey is taking on the responsibility of carrying on both family lines—it hasn't been easy for him. From now on, you need to take good care of Lydia and the child she's carrying." The sister-in-law, now eight months pregnant, glanced at me shyly. "Jennifer, we're sister-wives now." I stood there frozen, holding my daughter, my voice trembling. "Why are you doing this to me?" Harvey frowned and let out a long sigh. "You're always saying how hard Lydia has it, right? Isn't it better if I just take care of her openly and properly? "I promise—you'll be the first wife, and she'll be the second. On paper, you're still my only legal wife." In that moment, my blood ran cold. Then, for the first time in a long while, I heard the system's alert in my head. [Host emotional fluctuation detected. Would you like to use all remaining points to exit the current world?]

My sister had struggled with depression since childhood. The doctor warned that she could not tolerate any kind of stimulation. As a result, my entire life fell silent. To avoid upsetting her, I never dared to laugh at home. I never dared to cry. When I got hurt, I did not even have the right to say it hurt. My parents would hug me with apologetic expressions and say, "You're the good one. Your sister's illness requires the whole family to work together. You're healthy. You're strong. Let her have more, okay?" One day, I accidentally knocked over a cup. The crash sounded enormous in the quiet room, and my sister's emotions shattered at once. My father struck me for the first time. He roared, "Can't you be careful? Do you have to push her until she dies before you're satisfied?" He shoved me to the floor. The back of my head slammed against the corner of the table, and blood poured out. But my whole family rushed to my screaming sister. No one even glanced at me. I lay on the cold floor as my vision blurred and my consciousness began to fade. To them, my sister's feelings were the only emergency. My small injury could wait. They did not know that bleeding inside the skull does not wait.

Azalea Hart spent everything she had on taking care of her sick brother. No parents, no family, just a cruel stepsister who feeds her and bullies her every now and then. However, a light appeared at the end of her tunnel during one of he brother's sick days... "You're not almost dead... You're already dead!" Edwin Clark whispered eeriely as he sank his fangs into the nape of her neck. Azalea chocked, almost dying but his eyes had changed, filled with nothing but regret of.... What have I done? "You... You're my mate?" Fuck it! Azalea know nothing about mates. The burning pain has turned into horny sensation and the young virgin craves nothing.... But his touch. She touched him. He became obsessed.... No. Obsession is an understatement, he became mad. "My Mr Vampire, has gone mad, again" she would whisper anytime she met herself on his bed. But his appearance gradually becomes more than she anticipated.

"What if she doesn't want me?" "You're made for each other. If she doesn't want you, then you'll convince her otherwise. Show her a side of you that no one gets to see, a side that I wouldn't even believe exists if I hadn't seen you with your mother." I swallow. "You're good, Logan. Don't let yourself miss out on the best thing you're going to have." *** When Ariana Flores said those words to Logan Smith, the son of the alpha and her bully, she didn't expect to be talking about herself. How could Logan be her mate? The moon goddess must be playing a very sick game with her. So she took matters into her own hands and rejected Logan as her mate. But Logan wouldn't give up without a fight, He used her very words against her and proposed that they make it work. Will 3 months be enough to convince Ariana that Logan is a changed man and he's willing to do anything for his mate?

"You’re too beautiful to be crying over a boy," his voice was low, velvety, and dangerously close. It was supposed to be the best night of her life, her 20th birthday, the night she’d planned to finally give herself to the boy she thought she loved. But when her boyfriend didn’t show, the one man she shouldn't want, the man she called Dad, was there to pick up the pieces. "You're drunk," she whispered, her breath hitching as his hand brushed her cheek. "And you're irresistible." What started as an innocent ride home turned into something forbidden. Alone in the dark confines of the car, her fantasies came alive with the man she could never have, a man who had no business looking at her that way. She wanted to stop, but he was intoxicating, addictive. Would their fiery affair destroy everything or would it ignite a love so dangerous they’d risk it all? "Tell me to stop," he whispered, his lips hovering over hers. But she didn’t. And it changed everything.

Warning: This book contains explicit dark content, dark romance if you’re not in for a ride, please skip!! (Tales of a masseuse) Strictly 18+

My childhood friend, whom I hadn’t contacted for years, kept calling nonstop during an important meeting. After the meeting, he spoke in a sharp tone. “Do you think you’re too big for your britches? I’m getting engaged and you’re not even coming back to help out. Do I have to invite you?” I was representing my country at an international scientific forum, so I could only decline politely. Unexpectedly, he turned all haughty. “Fine then. If you’re not coming back, then just send me a gift with four circles and I’ll let it slide. Four circles? Thinking he meant ten thousand with four zeroes, I immediately agreed. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you ten thousand dollars as a wedding gift.” “Ten grand? Who the hell are you kidding? “My wife is the eldest daughter of the Jeffersons, the most prestigious family in Cirrus. Only the most distinguished people are on the guest list. Seeing that we’re old friends, I’m letting you attend. It’s your great honor!” He cursed angrily and sent me the invitation. I was struck dumb the moment I opened it. My aloof ice queen of a wife, who kept strangers at bay, was locked in a passionate kiss with her arms wrapped around my childhood friend’s waist. “Four zeroes, huh? How about four wreaths?” My gaze darkened as I clutched my phone. Four funeral wreaths ought to count as four circles, too!