What Do You Call This Trash Chapter 1 Novels & Stories

He warned. Theo looked up. "What?" The chocolate scoop slid. Before Maxwell could grab it, the chocolate scoop collapsed against the front of Theo's shirt. Theo froze. For one long second, he stared down at the dark smear spreading across his outfit. Then he slowly lifted his head and looked at Maxwell with horror. "I ruined it." Maxwell sighed. Theo's lower lip trembled. "Clara said not to get dirty." Maxwell gave him a little assuring smile. "You're a child. Getting dirty is part of your profession."

She glanced back down at the leather-bound book resting on the floorboards beside her. The empty pages seemed to stare up at her, daring her to turn them. With a trembling hand, she picked it up again, the leather warm against her palm. She knew she should get up, should finish unpacking, should do something practical, anything to distract herself from the throbbing between her legs. But she couldn't. She was hooked. The anonymous writer had become a guide, a seductress whispering secrets into her ear, and Pinky was a willing student, desperate to learn every lesson.

Tasting the filth, the fire, the fever he wrote into every page of my skin. The next morning, a box sat on the kitchen counter. Hardcover, freshly printed. My was name on the cover—and his. ‘Yours, Uncensored.’ “Is this—?” I asked, fingers trembling over the title. “Our story,” he said behind me, pulling my robe down to bare my shoulder. “Every filthy, furious, unforgettable chapter.” “You’re insane,” I breathed. “And you love it.” He kissed the top of my spine. The back cover quote? I read it aloud.

The story was just beginning. End of Chapter 121

A slop cart was parked right there, collecting kitchen waste from the neighborhood. The smell was something else entirely. However, I didn't have options. I clenched my teeth and climbed inside the barrel. I crouched in the dark and the stench and let the cart haul me, rocking and jolting, all the way out of town. 'Goodbye, my husband. 'Goodbye, Grand Chancellor.' - In the study, Jeremy worked through the last document and pressed his fingers to his temple. A small smile crossed his face as he set down his quill and got up, then headed toward the bedroom.

"The enemy of my enemy is still dangerous. But so are you. Don't forget that." I stare at the screen. Then I delete it. Roll over. Wrap my arms around Celeste. And sleep. End of Chapter 127

I'm going to murder the bitches who touched my family. I will murder those bitches. Murder those bitches. -------------------------------------------------- Hey people. Noe for those of you who don't get the title of the book, this chapter should explain it. Anyway, I'm not really happy with this chapter. Let's hope that the next one is better. Please read, vote, comment and share. Until the next chapter... -Daisy

Stay seeing to knowing more. V1"...Eh.. Good enough. " ----------------------------------------------------------------------- The next chapter are deleted scenes from this chapter. They aren't important to the storyline but kinda a waste of deleting it since I put a lot of effort into writing it. There are like 2.4K words and would be expensive to read. So I'll leave that up to you. -----------------------------------------------------------------------

My back slammed into the bookcase, breaking it and bringing down all of Kalama’s books on me, while Musi ended up flying into the corridor outside of Kalama’s apartment. * Author's note*: This chapter was a special request from a good friend and fellow author, Charlotte Townsend. I hope you all like this chapter. You can follow me on my Facebook page and Instagram account. FB link: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorKindraWhite and Instagram link: https://www.instagram.com/kindrawhiteauthor/

Fake marriage is chapter 1...there was a little mix-up Chapter 2: Alice's POV The midday sun cast a brilliant glare over the city, bouncing off the towering glass buildings as our sleek black SUV navigated through the bustling streets toward the restaurant. I leaned back in my seat, fingers tapping restlessly against the door handle as my mind wandered back to the stranger from the airport. I couldn’t believe I'd actually considered speaking to him, let alone involving him in my half-baked plan.