Things To Draw When Bored Novels & Stories

In the tenth year of being Don Vitelli’s sugar baby, the most reckless man alive was ready to change his ways for a good girl. On my twenty‑eighth birthday, he told me it would be our last time together and prepared an entire box of protection. I opened one of the wrappers and asked casually who that good girl was. Caino Vitelli leaned against the headboard and released a slow ring of smoke. “Your sister. I don’t even know how I fell for her. “That little fool can barely breathe after we kiss. She’s as pure as they come.” His tone sounded like a complaint, yet his eyes held a smile. The wrapper slipped from my hand. I stared at him, unable to move. Why her, of all people?

He watched her for a long moment, the anger in his eyes unmistakable. She imagined he was thinking of ways to punish her, but nothing prepared her for what he said next. "Strip." It was one word, but she doubted if she heard him correctly the first time, was he really going to punish her? "What… what was that?" She asked innocently. "Strip, Nancy." "I won't." "So you refuse me, I see." he said it lightly, the evil smile still playing on his lips. "That will not stop me from having you though" "You won't." She said firmly "Won't I?" She had expected to arouse his anger tonight, but nothing prepared her for the icy rage that contorted his features and the resentment and coldness in his eyes. "Has he touched you yet?" Derek asked suddenly, his eyes still hard on her and his look ever so cold. "Depends on the kind of touch you mean," She replied in a soft, tempting voice, "He has touched me in certain ways. But you are my husband and I should not be telling you that.” "No," he returned coldly. "We are just master and slave, nothing else links us.” ***** Forced to marry against their will, Nancy must not only prove to Derek Lincoln that she was never his lost betrothed, but she must also prove to the parents of his real betrothed that she is not their daughter. But when a man is this beautiful and yet so arrogant, God knows loving him could not be so difficult. Except he is strongly involved with his mistress, who would give anything to have him, even if it meant killing his present wife. But was he worth it? Nay. To him, she is just a personal whore.

The family was holding a celebration for my newborn daughter. For some reason, my husband, Jonathan Shamrock, brought his secretary along. At the dinner table, his secretary dropped an unpeeled shrimp onto his plate and said matter-of-factly, "I just had my nails done, and I'm still wearing the diamond watch you bought me. Peel this for me." The Shamrocks' friends and family stared at Jonathan in shock, but he peeled the shrimp without missing a beat and popped it right into his secretary's mouth. Something inside me shattered. I stared at my old and very outdated clothes. Then I looked at my hands, rough and callused from years of being neglected. Then, Jonathan spat out something cold. "A man's wife shows the world how life has been treating him, and you look no better than a worn-out servant. You don't work. You don't even bother looking presentable. You contribute nothing to this family. "Starting tomorrow, we'll split every household expense evenly. I'd rather put my money into something that actually gives me a return." "Sure," I said quietly, and added nothing more. Then I called my brother. "Pull your investment out of Jonathan's company. I'm getting a divorce."

My parents forced me to drop out of school and work eight jobs just to support my cousin Lola. I was only allowed to keep twenty bucks a month. One day, while working on a construction site, I got buried in a collapse. Dying, I called them—but they were busy throwing a lavish birthday party for Lola. Turns out they'd faked bankruptcy. Every penny went to her. After I died, they spread rumors that I'd run off with some guy. When the truth came out, my parents lost their minds. Their company went under. Later, I found out Lola was actually my twin sister—she'd been sent away as a baby to avoid some legal trouble. In the end, my mother poisoned Lola, then killed herself. Only then could my soul rest. My aunt came to my grave and whispered, "Next life, come to me."

Layla Reyes wasn’t looking to be noticed. New to Maple Hill High, she only wanted to keep her head down, finish senior year, and forget the mess she left behind in Chicago. But then she meets Jayden Carter—a quiet artist with soulful eyes and a sketchpad full of secrets. What starts as a simple school project soon becomes something deeper, richer, and more complicated than either of them expected. Just as they begin to open up, Layla’s past crashes into her present, threatening to undo everything she and Jayden were building. Can two people still healing learn to trust each other with more than just paint and poetry? Or will they stay stuck in the space between what almost was… and what could be?

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.

Three Packs. Three Powerful Alphas. One Mate. What happens when three great Alphas discovered that not only were they mated to one Being but he also happens not to belong in their Realm. What was the Goddess thinking that she had to let this happen or she knew she's hands-tight just as the clueless Alphas since the Goddess only Son is about becoming the Luna to Three different Alphas. ***** I know guys, I suck at writing blurb, just go read if you're interested. ***** ** Mature Content. To break this down... The following story will contain erotic situations between consenting adults. So, not for children.

In the tenth year of my diagnosis with selective mutism, my mother decided it was time to bring home a little brother for me from an orphanage. Her eyes immediately landed on a boy in the back row, but the head of the orphanage opposed without hesitation. "Ms. Lane, this kid has been nothing but trouble since he was small. Just two days ago, he made an old man on crutches play goalie. If you take him home, your life will never be peaceful!" I looked on without the slightest interest. My mother, however, was exhilarated. Pointing at the boy, she declared excitedly, "Then, he's exactly the one I want!" And suddenly, lines of bullet comments scrolled before me. 'The mom cracks me up. Her eyes practically sparkled like spotlights.' 'Our brooding female lead grew up friendless. Her mom's been worrying about that for years. Now she's found this rascal, there's no way she's letting go.' 'Honestly, fate is wild. The mom instantly picks her future son-in-law. In their past lives, the female lead died trying to save him. Now that they've both been reborn, maybe they'll finally get a second chance together.'

The night before our wedding, my fiancée let her so-called "best friend" butcher the gown my late mother had sewn, chopping it into a revealing mini dress. I rushed over with the ruined dress in my arms, ready to demand answers: only to catch their voices through the door: "Imagine him expecting me to wear something a dead woman stitched. What a curse!" Through the narrow gap, I saw my distant, frigid fiancée flushed with color, straddling his lap. "What we did at the bridal shop wasn't enough," she murmured. "Tomorrow, walking down the aisle in this tiny dress you made me, it'll be even more exhilarating." Their lips met. My hand froze against the door, and inside, something broke with a soundless crack. If she longed for thrills, I would grant her some.

Five years ago, Tiffanye Rebel and her mate, Quinton McKnight, made a choice that shattered their bond—they rejected one another. Unable to endure the heartbreak, Tiffanye left her pack behind, vowing never to return. But time has a way of pulling the past back into focus. Now, after five long years, Tiffanye finds herself back in the very place that once brought her nothing but pain and misery. With every passing day, the memories she tried to bury begin to resurface, sharper and more haunting than ever. The truth she once fled from is no longer hidden—secrets are unraveling, and the lies and betrayal run deeper than she ever imagined. Faced with everything she tried to escape, Tiffanye must confront the past she left behind. Will she find the strength to heal and move forward, or will the weight of betrayal finally break her?