Under The Dome Show Novels & Stories

My husband's gym was celebrating its grand opening, so I grabbed my best friend and headed over under the guise of "checking the place out," armed with a $10 trial class we had snagged from a group deal. I never once mentioned that I was the owner's wife. The moment we wrapped up the workout, a female trainer slapped a price sheet into our hands and gave us a look that could cut glass. "Let me guess, you two came here to milk the freebies? Our private training sessions cost hundreds. They're not here for people like you to exploit." I let out a disbelieving laugh. "We bought a perfectly valid trial class. How does that make us freeloaders? Get your manager." She rolled her eyes, acting like she was the rules. "Call whoever you want! The owner is my boyfriend, and he can't stand penny-pinchers who show up trying to mooch off his gym." Then, right in front of us, she called him—voice raised, dramatic, dripping with fake indignation. "Babe, there are two cheapskates in your gym demanding the manager. Come deal with them for me!"

At the recording studio of a divorce reality show, when Logan Barnes, the superstar, catches a fallen headset for me, he subconsciously takes my hand and kisses it. The thing is, the livestreaming camera is still rolling. The kiss leaves the entire Internet in chaos. After all, I'm not Logan's ex-wife in this reality show. Everyone can't wait to see me break down and get jealous to the point that I'll keep pestering my actual ex-husband, Eddie Hancock. But right after the reality show is over, Logan and I become the most envied Internet couple.

The Raikiri clan, which was famed as the most prominent military and tactical geniuses, existed since the feudal Japanese period during the reign of Minamoto Yoritomo. Bestowed with great power, the descendants of Iwasaki Senju yielded the Amaterasu, the power which awakens under emotional stress. Kenjirou Subaru was hailed as a legend for saving the clan at the tender age of six from a unit of 70 yakuza. However, all good things must come to an end eventually as the ancient Ninjutsu clan was assassinated in cold blood, probably by an external group fearful of the clan's prominence and place in modern Japanese culture. The horror of the heinous tragedy at his birthplace, the Village of Raden in Osaka rendered his mental condition unstable thus causing Izanami to go rouge. Unbeknownst to him, he ends up in Tokyo, involving in a frenzy of incidents, gathering to find the intel on the person or the organization responsible for the eradication of his people. Therefore, eking out an existence and pursuing an education. He would eventually make his way to Mitsushiba. He enrolls in high school and thus begins his quest to discover himself again. Eventually, he would be befriended by a group of students who change Subaru's view of life and show him that life this beautiful is worth living or is it really the case....

He worshiped her like a goddess. She let another man make her moan. Duncan Moretti had everything—power, wealth, control. Women wanted him, men feared him. But when Aphrodite walked into his world, she didn’t want his money… she wanted his soul. And he gave it to her. Every kiss, every whispered promise, every desperate moan—he thought they meant something. He planned the perfect proposal, ready to give her forever. Until she didn’t show up. Until she arrived hours late—smiling like she hadn’t just crushed him. Until a man walked in uninvited, laughing, calling her home. And when Duncan followed her, broken and burning, he saw it all with his own eyes—Aphrodite naked under another man, moaning his name like she once moaned his. Now Duncan isn’t the man who fell to his knees. He’s the man who’s rising—with revenge in his blood and nothing left to lose. She wanted to be worshiped? He’ll make sure she remembers exactly how it feels.

"But I did, now show me that you appreciate it baby girl" xx In which a girl sets off to pursue her celebrity crush

My wife, Alisha West, has always been obsessively frugal. After marrying her, my single guilty pleasure became blowing money on luxury watches—almost like revenge for how absurdly tightfisted she was. By the time our daughter, Elyse Day, turned 7, she had inherited every bit of her mother’s penny-pinching nature. The two of them looked completely out of place in our sprawling mansion. And I loved it. I’d slip into my latest custom-tailored suits and watch them wince at my credit card statements, their expressions twisted in quiet pain. Until one day, lines of floating text suddenly appeared before my eyes. [This spendthrift idiot is still shopping? Doesn’t he know his wife’s company is about to go bankrupt?] [She’s been drained dry supporting this parasite. Her T-shirt collar is practically worn out from washing. Good thing the financially savvy male lead is about to show up and save her.] [Can’t wait for Alisha to file for divorce and kick this useless freeloader out. Let’s see how he survives fighting stray dogs for scraps under a bridge.] I slammed the limited-edition Richard Mille watch onto the table. Alisha, who was crouched on the floor breaking down delivery boxes for recycling, and Elyse, who was helping stomp them flat, both jumped in shock. A chill ran through me. I lunged forward, snatched the battered cardboard box from Elyse’s hands, and held it tightly against my chest. "No… no more buying. I’m returning this watch. "And these boxes… don’t sell them. I think we might need them someday… to lay out under a bridge when we’re sleeping outside…"

“No one touches what is mine and gets to live,” he replies firmly, sending a cold shiver down my spine. “Alessandro, I am not yours. I am not anyone’s property,” I argue. He laughs softly. “Okay,” he says casually, as if what I said doesn't matter. “I mean it; I will never be yours—not your property, not your plaything, and certainly not your mistress,” I've already made it clear that I won't be his mistress; I don’t know why he can’t seem to accept that. His jaw tightens, then he scoffs. “He threatened you, he touched you,” he says, his eyes narrowing. “It really didn’t matter if the device was his or not; he knew what was coming for him.” In search of her missing father, Renée, a 24 year old boudoir photographer, moves to a new country and makes a deal with the FBI. She helps them bring down the most feared Mafia Don in the country, and they help her find her father. All she has to do is seduce him and get him to lower his guard—easy. Alessandro has been married for three years to the perfect wife, the princess of the East Mafia dome. That kind of marriage makes Alessandro the leader of both the South and the East of the Mafia dome and untouchable, Ruthless. Then one night at a masquerade ball, he meets her, the seductive stranger with a different accent. She looks like the typical type of woman he would make his mistress. But is that enough? Will his world accept a woman like her? It has been a rule for as long as he can remember that certain races can't mix, at least not from where he stands. Plus, he is a married man. Everything about her is forbidden.

A woman trapped in her mysterious dreams finds herself in people's past since her childhood. As the fragments of dreams show her bits of many people's pasts! When she trained herself to live with this mysterious ability, she found herself in her own past one day! And after visiting her past if she gets hurt in her dream, she bleeds in real too. In the past, it wasn't this fatal as those were others' past! But why do the people in her dreams show up in front of her now with the same names?! Why did her closed one's past get added as a bonus?! It's like she knows even some strangers well without even talking to them in person! And what's with her loose mouth uttering bull**** without realising?! It's like she has a whole different person and emotions in her! The memories of her past show up in unexpected situations catching her off guard and making her look like a crazy woman who is in dire need of admission to a mental asylum! --- Hey dears! Hope you like and support my story!

Everything was perfect in Anabelle's life, until one faithful night, her parents died in a fatal accident. Planned by an unknown clan, set up by her uncle Raven. After the death of her parents, life turned into a nightmare, uncle maltreated her. To protect her father's legacy, she's sent to leave with her fated mate for five years, the only way to get her legacy was if she could break his stone heart. Alpha Roman, a cold-hearted heir of Fangspire pack, vowed never to love because of his stepmother's maltreatment. Within five years, he fell in love with her…. after a long time of tormenting her. Their worlds merge, their hearts ignite and their bond becomes unbreakable. Not until she was kidnapped, did everything go sour. Her fashion show trips became a trap for taking her blood. To prevent the prophecy from coming through, her uncle planned her death. But unknown to them, nobody was found. Anabelle never died that day. She rises from the ashes under a new name. A powerful businesswoman whose internal desire was filled with revenge. When fate pushes them together again, they stand on opposite sides of destiny. A Luna who returns from ashes to regain her throne, legacy.

Three years into my marriage with Dominick, Gia, his stepsister, sent me a video clip out of nowhere. I tapped on the video, only to find Dominick tying his stepsister to the bedpost with the tie I had given him. His stepsister lay naked under him, addressing him intimately. After getting their freak on, they shared an embrace, and Gia cozied up against Dominick and uttered, “I don’t like the ring you bought me. Give it to Luna, and tell her it’s a birthday gift from me.” The next day, I sat in an upscale restaurant and stared at the vacant seat across the table. Suddenly, the Underboss wheeled a massive cake toward me. “Don Costa was called away on urgent business. He sent me to deliver your birthday gift.” The box contained his stepsister’s discarded reject. My phone buzzed with new pictures from Gia. Dominick was at the hospital with Gia for a check-up. Without a fuss, I signed the divorce papers and made preparations for a wedding. “Donna Costa, whose names should I put down as the bride and groom?” “Dominick and Gia.” A week from now, I would show the world the kind of filth the supposed solemn Don had been rolling in with his stepsister.