What Makes A Novel Good Novels & Stories

Meet Noel Atkins, kinda awkward, has her face stuck to a screen almost every time, talks to herself and always, always wears a beanie. She moves to a new town in other to start things afresh, and scale through Highschool unnoticed and alone. Meet Aaron-lee Altamira, the popular boy, rich, handsome, every girl's dream and every boy's model. With his killer blue eyes and charming attitude, Aaron-lee always gets what he wants. Aaron-lee doesn't do flings and hook ups, he's searching for something real. Something substantial. Something challenging. Something more cherishing than his cars. Something he finds in the eyes of the new girl who talks to herself and always wears a beanie. With the school's hottest boy interested in her, Noel's quite, boring, gaming and withdrawn life is about to take a ride on a rollercoaster. Noel isn't interested and Aaron-lee isn't taking no for an answer.

One thousand stories. One thousand ways to get wet, aroused, and begging for more. This collection is pure sin on your screen. Good girls turned into cock-hungry sluts in the span of a single night. Risky fucks in movie seats, hotel mix-ups, locked bathrooms, family cabins. Virginities lost to the wrong man… or the right group of men. Sisters, best friends, fiancées, stepdaughters—all fucking, sharing, eating each other out, and taking load after load while pretending they hate how good it feels. Expect: Every hole used and filled. Creampies that drip for days. Public exposure, semi-public humiliation. Rough, jealous, competitive sex. Anal, DP, face-sitting, squirting, cum-play. That razor-thin line between “I shouldn’t” and “don’t stop” This isn’t a book you read. It’s a book that reads you because it knows what makes your clit throb and your cheeks burn. Open it if you dare. Close it when you can’t take any more (spoiler: you won’t be able to). Reader discretion: Extreme taboo, group scenarios, degradation, incest-adjacent themes, non-stop orgasms, lesbian, threesome, gangbang and every filthy thing you dare to imagine. NB: accepting requests for hot sexy stories that's your deepest fantasy. 1000 stories!!!

What happens when the tormented female lead in a novel wakes up and decides to get together with the second male lead? Coincidentally enough, I'm transmigrated into the body of this tormented female lead!

Megan Hurley orchestrated a bullying scheme to drive a wedge between me and my childhood friend, Eugene. I fell into her trap as she intended, but only saved Eugene Carson. The thugs she hired, however, proved reckless. As a result, she accidentally died. This enraged Eugene to the point of hatred. He was convinced I had set up the bullying that led to Megan's death. On our wedding anniversary, he pushed me off a high building, his face twisted with relentless fury. "This is what you owe me and Megan. Sherlyn, you deserve to die!" When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of the bullying. This time, I didn't intervene. Later, he knocked on my window in the rain, saying hoarsely in despair, "Sherlyn, why do you no longer care about me?"

When I died with a smile on my face, right before my brother's eyes, he looked as if the anguish might tear him apart. Yet, for twenty-one years, he hadn't stopped wishing I would meet this exact end. It all traced back to my fifth birthday—the day I had innocently hoped our parents would come home from their business trip to celebrate with me. They rushed back that night but never made it. A car accident took both their lives. From that moment on, my brother resented me, despised me. He didn't just stand idly by as our cousin snatched up my work as her own; he encouraged it. And when my landlord threw me out, it wasn't a random cruelty—it was my brother pulling the strings. All he had ever wanted, from the very beginning, was to see me die a miserable death. But when he finally got his wish… why did he cry, pleading for me to come back, begging me to call him 'brother' one last time?

The emergency center I worked in went haywire as the typhoon closed in on our town. That night, my husband’s first love made seven emergency calls in a row to me. However, she did not say anything when I picked up. By the eighth call, I thought it was a prank caller, so I gave them a piece of my mind. Then, I heard my husband’s angry voice. “Melinda! This is the eighth time Sadie's called you for help! Haven’t you made her suffer enough?!” After that fiasco, he decided to avenge Sadie by taping my mouth, tying my wrists and legs up, and throwing me into our basement for three whole days, despite it being flooded with seawater, I begged for mercy, but it was to no avail. “You knew Sadie couldn’t talk because she hurt her throat, yet you still hung up on her! I'm going to make sure you feel the same hopelessness she felt!" Those three days left me with a collection of severe infections. I ended up having to remove my kidney. Even after all that, that man still had the gall to kneel by my bed and beg me to give him another chance.

I enjoyed playing scratch-off tickets. I felt restless if I did not scratch one for a single day. After becoming familiar with the shop owner, I always scratched first and paid later. One day, the scratch-off ticket I took revealed a million-dollar prize. The shop attendant, Chloe Byrne, snatched the ticket from my hand. “You never paid for this scratch-off ticket! Taking it without asking makes you a thief! But look, I’m in a good mood right now, so I can’t be bothered to argue with you. Just get out of here.” Her straight-up robbery act nearly made me laugh. “I scratched this ticket! You saw the big prize and decided to claim it as your own. That makes you the real thief.” Chloe was shameless and would not back down. “I don’t care who’s a thief or not. This ticket is mine, and nobody’s taking it from me!” Seeing her like that, I made a call. “Lucky Mart on Spring Street has been stealing customers’ winning tickets and refusing to pay. Revoke their license effective today.”

My mother was the best portrait artist in the police station. She had a strong sense of justice and brooked no evil. However, all I got was a sharp retort when I called her to save me. "You know it's your sister's coming-of-age celebration today, and you're cursing her? Kidnapped, are you? Fine, the kidnappers can kill you for all I care." She assumed it was a prank call. So, she refused to go to the police station and do her job. I wasn't saved in time and was tortured to death. When the DNA report came out, she came to the scene all wobbly. She drew a portrait of me with my bones as reference, her hand trembling all the way. "Jessica? It can't be her. This is a mistake!" She tried again and again. Yet, it didn't matter how many times she redid it as the portrait showed my face. My mother, who had hated me my whole life, teared up.

All Victoria ever wanted was to bear a male heir for her heartless husband, Alpha Victor, even if it meant having three children in a space of three years and having an emergency CS section. Her whole world crumbled when she had her third daughter and her husband kicked her out and married her young step mother. Betrayed and kicked in the stomach with her daughters locked in a cage, Victoria almost lost her life after her stitches were torn and was almost dead but luckily, she met a savior, Bill, who takes her in because her daughter, Candy looks exactly like his late daughter. Determined to rebuild her life, Victoria starts her life afresh and builds a powerful modelling agency only for her world to collide with her ex husband. Things get complicated when Alpha Victor’s pack is cursed and he needs the healing of the very daughters he kicked out of his pack. Drama intertwines with faith as a new son resurfaces, putting a question on everyone’s lips but can it be answered? Will Victoria let her life be intertwined with the very pack that hurt her and tore her world apart?

In the third year of my engagement to Jack, he found himself a pureblooded, sharp-fanged huntress up in the Northern Territory. The night before my birthday, he brought her to me—just to call off the bond. He looked at me, cold and distant. “Bethel and I both live for the thrill of the night hunt. You're just a greenhouse wolf—soft and sheltered. You’ll never get what makes it all so addictive.” I asked, holding back the hurt, “Did it really have to be today?” He chuckled, “Did breaking a bond require a date on the calendar?” I nodded without arguing. But the next month, we ended up in the same Blood Moon Trial up north. What he didn’t know was—I tasted the rush of the hunt, the heat of blood, and got the champion long before he even came of age. Later, on his birthday, I sealed a life bond with another powerful wolf. He looked at me, red-eyed and hoarse, voice barely his, “Did it have to be today?” I smiled back, “Life bonds need good omens. The moon’s just right tonight.”