Untainted Book Novels & Stories

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“unlucky contestants…shelf two, book thirteen.” It sounded oddly like a personal note. My curiosity won out and I skimmed my fingers along the spines of the books until I chose one at random. I pulled out a medium-sized book, a deep shade of navy blue. Earthen twine was wrapped around the book, and there was a picture on the front. A middle-aged man with chocolate hair and dark eyes smiled up at me. The cover of the book read, “Arthur Zimmerman, Game 71.

A black wolf's fur scarf was resting on his broad shoulders and his lapel had golden embroidery on it. She never pitied herself, no matter what she went through...but one thing made her pity herself. She engraved his flame tattoo between her chest and he engraved her flame tattoo on his right arm. Their souls were tangled but none of them cared. They were going against fate. "Even after all this I still see no reaction on your face. I must say... you're truly from the liberation front, judging by those green eyes you belong to the scarlet blossom clan." He said, his dark black eyes looking at her from head to toe. He took a step closer to her, they had an arm gap between them. This was the f

But today it was accompanied by something alien. Raw, unfiltered possessiveness.

Elara’s thighs are already shaking when the second finger slides in beside the first, she’s wedged between two towering rows of law journals on the third-floor stacks of the university library the exact spot Victor specified back pressed to the cold metal shelving, short plaid skirt bunched around her hips, knees bent and trembling. Her own hand holds the hem up and out of the way while Victor kneels in front of her, two thick fingers pumping steadily into her soaked cunt, the pear from last night long since removed at dawn but the memory of its stretch still making her walls flutter around the new intrusion.

With gestures, not words. I sat on the bed slowly and unwrapped it. A new book. Thick, bound in leather, smelling expensive, old, and important at the same time. ‘The Silent Crown.’ I ran my thumb over the title and shook my head. He picked perfectly. Always perfect. His love may be feral, dark, filthy with hunger and violence—but his gifts? They were thoughtful. Personal. Intimate. I opened the book and started reading. Not because I cared about the story.

On that note, she replied, “After breakfast, please.” The butler nodded again and with her permission, he left. Now that the butler had gone, Emily could go through the routine book. She sat on her bed, turning the pages one after the other. While Emily went over its contents, she shook her head pitifully. The book listed everything—Drew’s school hours, mealtimes, study times, even the exact time he had to be in bed. Christ! No wonder the boy needed a nanny—he practically had no time to become a kid. Zero fun, a hundred percent suffocating.

Something that would give me the tools to expose lies and reveal evidence that had been carefully concealed. Something that would save Ethan. My fingers moved across another shelf, and then suddenly, they stopped. A book stood slightly apart from the others, as if it had been waiting for me. ‘The Book of Unveiled Truths” Just the name alone told me this book carried weight. Real power. The kind that could change everything. I pulled it from the shelf carefully, almost reverently. It was heavier than it looked, as if the words inside had actual substance or actual gravity.

The little angels had gone through a lot just to survive and live that even a peaceful slumber was too hard of a blessing for them. After a while of twists and turns under the dark, rainy sky filled with thunderclouds of grief and misfortune, the car drove into a tall white gate with the words ‘Oakland Orphanage’ in big and bold golden letters carved on the center. The gate automatically opened as if it recognized the expensive white car. Inside the wide lot was a paradise of flowers, bushes, and grasses embellished beautifully and perfectly in organized landscapes. The orphanage on the center was tall and wide. It was painted in cream with gold rims and accents. It looked a bit off due to t

"Lauren… is it true?" My father’s head hung low. He said nothing, but his shoulders trembled with fury. "Lauren," Nora piped up sweetly from the side, her words soaked in poison. "You’ve gone too far. Sleeping with so many men… What if you infected Michael with something dirty?" My nails dug into my palms, sharp crescents cutting flesh. I opened my mouth, ready to strike back— However, Michael cut me off, his eyes clouded with something dark. "Lauren… I never thought you could be this filthy."