Why Might A Novel Writer Choose To Use Dialect Novels & Stories

“Fall for me in the same way I loved you, so you can feel the pain and despair you put me through, before I take your life.” ~--~ Sylvia’s world revolved around her husband, Duke Alec Winston. For a lifetime, she gave him everything despite his infidelity. But in the end, when she wasn’t necessary for his plans, he plunged a sword through her flesh without a single parting word. That should’ve been the end. Yet Sylvia finds herself regressed, back to her ten-year-old self living in the slums of the Rezine Empire. With the lingering sting of betrayal in her heart and the memory of dying imprinted in her mind, she decides to eliminate the source of her misfortune while atoning for her past life’s sins. Even if it means going against known and hidden powers within the empire. To start, she needs allies worth their salt and the backing of her family, the duchy of House Lundren. But despite her knowledge of the future and a lifetime’s worth of experience, Sylvia soon realizes that she knew so little. For there are secrets she’s yet to discover, stories she’s yet to hear, and prices yet to be paid. After all, a human living past death over and over is nothing short of an anomaly, and a power that can grant it won’t come for free. Death wasn’t the end. For Sylvia, it was the beginning. And a curse.

Every time the housekeeper came to cook, she brought her daughter along. I felt sorry for them — single mother, no support — so I never said a word. Until one afternoon, I pulled out the chair at the head of the table and found a note taped to the back. It read: "Freeloaders aren't allowed to eat here." I tore the note off and turned to the housekeeper. "What is this supposed to mean?" The girl shot me a look of pure contempt and let out a cold laugh. "You're just a maid. You sponge off other people's homes day after day — how are you not ashamed? If you can't afford food, go beg on the street. People like you, mooching off everyone, make me sick." I stared at her, completely thrown. The housekeeper rushed over and lowered her voice. "Ms. Wolfe, my daughter doesn't know I'm the maid here. She saw how hard I work and felt sorry for me — that's why she put up the note." "And she has serious germophobia. She can't stand eating with strangers. Wait outside until she's done eating. Don't come back in." Before I could answer, she shoved me out the front door. The door slammed shut behind me with a final bang. I stood there on the steps and calmly dialed the police. "Hello. There's been a break-in at my home. Someone's locked me out. I need an officer here now."

Children beware, and please give care of things that go bump in the night. It all seems like fun when you provoke mayhem and run through the graveyard to give one a fright. Please heed our warning from dusk until morning giving caution to the naive. Goblins and Ghouls wait on the foolishly brave to pull beyond the hallow grave.

Half a year after our divorce, my ex-husband became a trending topic online. His current wife, who had just given birth, jumped off a building. When she jumped, she was clutching a printed, 98-page copy of the "Cloves Family Code of Conduct." The reason for her suicide? She couldn’t buy discounted groceries online. A reporter came to interview me and asked, "Excuse me, were you also given the same family rules?"

It was my first time going to my boyfriend’s home for the New Year. In the middle of dinner, his childhood friend suddenly slammed her spoon on the table. “Cole, how could you bring a bar girl to our New Year’s Eve dinner?” The room fell silent. Everyone thought she simply had too much to drink. But she spoke with complete confidence. “One of my friends works on the vice squad. He arrested her himself. There’s no way he got the wrong person.” She threw a police penalty notice onto the table. My name was clearly printed on it. I was stunned. Last month, the city’s vice squad had arrested dozens of people. I was the one who approved and signed those cases. I had just taken office as bureau chief.

Dahlia Amelia was a frustrated Aspiring Writer that her work was claim and plagiarized by a well-known Author, Yuki. The One Who Own the Deadly Glance, was hit for almost three months and become the best seller that earn a billion dollar. Several famous entertainment industry offer the publisher to adapt the novel into a film. Even makes Dahlia more frustrated. No one believe that she is the one who wrote it. She was offered to become a script writer instead to her own masterpiece. Drayzen Storm was the only living Dragon shift-shifter for a hundred decades. He was curious how the writer find his identity as the novel used his real name. Reader and viewr was aware that the novel was all imagination made. But Yuki died in hand of Drayzen as the writer of the said Novel. Dahlia was about to witness the devious event, yet she choose to ignore them and even cry at Drayzen how frustrated she is not to fight her right on her own work. Drayzen find out that she was the real writer. After a month Dahlia find out that she was pregnant with Dryzen Child.

She had just one job. To fill in her mother’s role at work while her mother's boss, Jordan, searched for a replacement. Filling his head and heart wasn’t part of the bargain.

In every shadowed corner of desire, someone is waiting to take what isn't theirs. Loyal girlfriends. Starving wives. Forbidden mentors. Everything that should have remained off-limits. Resistance crumbles into desperate submission. Jealousy fuels every thrust. Predators from every walk of life slip in, seduce, corrupt, and own. This collection is an unrelenting taboo erotica exploring themes of cheating, power play, degradation, forced complicity, age gaps, threesomes, dark possession, and morally corrupt pleasure that pushes every boundary. Warning: Explicit, dark, and unapologetically filthy. Contains intense psychological corruption, taboo relationships, and no redemption. 18+ only. If safe love stories are your comfort zone, look away. If you crave the forbidden... dive in. There's no coming back.

A farm girl content with her life, Poppy Lane was not prepared for the changes that were about to happen to her. It all started when she met a man from the city, and she gave him her virginity. But he left her and never came back. An accident also occurred, which led her to work as a maid in the city. One of her employers turned out to be the man who had left her, and he had three other brothers. She will serve the Mavkos quadruplets, who all have an interest in her. At first, she couldn't believe it and rejected them. But they insisted that she choose one of them to like. They made an agreement that she would date one of them every week. Fearing for her job, she reluctantly agreed. Will this be the way for her to choose one of them? Or will things become even more complicated, and she might not choose anyone and just want to stay with all four of them?

Ernest West left the courtroom with wings on his feet. Leaving Don James was, in Ernest's opinion, the best thing he had ever done for himself. No more tense silences. No more Don's silent, smothering adoration. Ernest had been released. Three years have passed since then. Now, what once was the best choice has turned into a noose around their necks. There is a sinister provision buried within the small print of the divorce papers that Ernest's attorney overlooked; they are obligated to live together and manage the small beach hotel that they used to own as a couple for an entire year. Thus, Ernest finds himself back amid the groaning wooden boards and salty panes of glass within the walls of where their love once withered away. However, Don is no longer the same weak and longing man that Ernest abandoned. He now stands as an intimidating pillar of cold indifference, forged by the stony resolve and lack of concern. Not even a passing glance comes from Don’s green eyes, which regard Ernest with only polite reserve. A year of closeness. A year of unresolved tension. A year of dealing with each and every lie that Ernest tried to bury beneath "irreconcilable differences." In the beginning, the plan is a silent battle—appointments stuck to the fridge, dinners taken in different corners of the house. Yet, there’s something about closeness that reveals the whole truth. Ernest discovers the picture albums that Don never discarded. He listens to telephone conversations in the dead of night that reveal the loneliness he feels himself. And gradually, painfully, he discovers that the greatest error made wasn’t the separation. It was letting Don leave.