To Your Moralless Novel Novels & Stories

He goes to speak when I hold my hand up, stopping him. “The only good thing about it is that I didn’t feel the pain of your betrayal. You felt the bond, I didn’t. It is not important anymore. You fucked them both knowing what you were doing and who they were, but hey that is your right. The second you touched her, the effects of her song would have been gone and lust would have taken over. So don’t even try to use that as an excuse. I know how the effects work.” I turn back to the window and see the Supernatural Council taking to the Lieutenant. The problem at hand is more important than where he sticks his cock. It is of no consequence to me.

“But not just any manual. The story of… of writing the manual. The drafts. The committee meetings about font size. The argument over whether to call it ‘dough’ or ‘batter’ in step three. We give it the meta-narrative of creating something designed to have no soul.” Kael’s chittering took on a thoughtful tone. “A recursive narrative loop about generating anti-narrative. A story whose only point is its own pointlessness. The Silence would attempt to find the theme, the character arc, the emotional resonance… and it would find nothing but bureaucratic minutiae nesting inside itself.”

he muttered under his breath, unaware that tomorrow would unravel everything and turn his carefully balanced world upside down. *AUTHOR’S NOTE* This novel contains extreme taboo content and is strictly forbidden for younger audiences. BDSM, spicy scenes, threesomes, and erotic content will appear in unexpected chapters. Please note, there are no rape scenes. Enjoy the read!

Is he really going to die here? “…can you not see that they were written anew time and time again because until now, humanity is still unable to grasp their true meaning? As of now, the subject of morality is nothing more but a shadow of itself–nothing but echoes of the past. So how can you, a life that has barely begun to live have an inkling of an idea upon whose will was it that claims that I am in the wrong?”

For Elise who's unemployed in her last life, she feels ashamed, these children age seven to fifteen starting to work to learn how to feed themselves. This is also the reason why she hated this novel. All the struggle , hope and tenacity of the children have built will just be in vain once the tragedy happened. It's disgusting to think that they were just side characters for the protagonist to be known. Elise who thought that sacrifices are important for every character development is exhausting to one's pov.

Collen announced through grit teeth. 'It doesn't seem to matter how many scumbags you kill in this city, for each one you kill, it feels as though another six spring up from a hole in the ground. Bastards are never ending. And each passing year it seems morals and boundaries disappear more and more.' Collen thought to himself

“You’ve proven remarkably resistant to narrative correction. A protagonist who refuses his tragic end.” “I’m not your protagonist,” Sabatine snarled, closing the distance. Twenty feet. “I’m the consequence you didn’t factor in.” Kaine’s smile was thin, ghostly. “The ‘Worldbreaker’ as a force of moral consequence. I suppose there’s a certain poetry to it.” He raised his pistol, not to shoot, but in a gesture of acknowledgement. “But you see, even consequences can be managed. Contained. Or failing that, used.”

no one and nothing could embrace her the way he did. He hurt her, and yet….no one could shield her more than him. “Sane person?” He husked in her ear, causing her to gulp. “Only those sanes believe in satisfying the sanity, who are too afraid to be called insane, and I am not one of them, my dove,” he revealed it to her, without caring about the right and wrong. He had stopped caring about the difference between moral and immoral since the day he had witnessed sane people behaving like insane with them with no mercy.

My name is Jennie Dawson. I was just an ordinary college girl whose biggest achievement was pulling all-nighters to read smut novels. Then one night I dropped dead at my desk… and woke up inside the very book I was reading, as a pretty background character who happened to share my name. The heroine, Nancy Porter, was a transmigrator with a system. Her mission was to seduce my brother and turn him into her devoted plaything, living a life of indulgence with her day and night until she could finally return to her world.

I’ll probably keep on freelancing for both Take 2 Interactive and Rockstar games, or I could try getting in at Googleplex or Applepark. I put the discarded novel on top of my suitcase. I don’t know why I even bother to read it. It’s not well written, the grammar sucks — a bunch of crap, really. And the couple on the cover is so cliché. The whole stereotypical romantic pose makes my skin crawl with frustration. I sigh deeply. I’m so uptight my neck is pulling into a spasm. “You know he’s going to be here tonight?” Of course, I know. That’s the whole darn problem.