Woman Devotional Book Novels & Stories

Not book titles or artifacts, but names of people. Names of women. Some crossed out. Some untouched. My chest tightened as I read them one by one: Clara M. – 1761 Beatrice Lenore – 1779 … Anna-Marie V. – 1932 Georgia H. – 1938 … Celeste – 1997 Jane Walker – 2006 And many more. All belonged to those who had once made contracts with Ash. My body turned cold. I stared at that list for a long time, and some thoughts hit me:

And yet here I was, breaking my number one rule. Last night should never have happened. It wasn’t my intention, not in the slightest. Control was my language, the thing that set me apart from every other weak man who drowned in temptation. Yet somehow, I’d lost my grip. Women had always come easily. They chased, they begged, they did everything and even more, but none of them had ever made me forget myself. Until her…

So that was it. I felt every drop of blood in my body freeze solid in that instant. Since the divorce, Julie had stayed by my side day and night in the hospital. Even under my sternest warnings, the baby never dared speak recklessly in front of her. But I had overlooked one fatal truth: when I was asleep, he could still whisper through that mysterious voice in her mind, twisting her thoughts, poisoning our bond. I had been careless. Now, faced with the fruit knife in my daughter's trembling hands and the spreading pool of blood beneath me, all I could do was laugh bitterly.

Devon looked like a child, obeying her words. “Just close your eyes, thank God for the blessings, and ask forgiveness for your sins,” the woman said. Devon was about to close his eyes, but flinched. “Why should I thank Him? I don’t want to,” he said and started eating and the others followed, except for her. “It’s okay. One day, you’ll pray for someone. Devon paused. He didn’t know why, but her words made him uneasy. It felt like something bad was going to happen, but he stayed quiet, watching her pray alone.

"Mrs. Brooks, it's been a while." I returned a polite smile. "Not Mrs. Brooks anymore. Just Ms. Clark. My divorce with Ryan was finalized." "Oh." The woman's face went pale. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know. I was abroad studying, just returned." "It's fine," I said, waving it off. "I need a men's watch. A friend's birthday. What do you recommend?" Relieved by my calmness, the saleswoman laid out a few from the same collection. Polished leather bands, sleek designs. I examined them, my fingers brushing over a dark leather strap.

he said when I told him about my suspicion. I wanted to whine and express my frustration, but is there truly a point for that, when it has already happened? And it basically was the seed I said that we needed to plant for everyone to know our fake relationship. But gawd! To see and hear what everyone thought about that was a nightmare! “The Devil’s secretary has now become the Devil’s baby. Scroll to continue reading,” I moaned and covered both hands on my face as Freda continued laughing at me.

Mom asks out of partial curiosity as she sinks into the couch, her legs crossed on the island table. "She's old, full of wrinkles, and can barely lift a cup, and me?" I give a little twirl, "I am young, succulent, and beautiful. A typical Aphrodite's rebirth and might I add, a goddess in bed." I wink at the last part and she makes a gagging expression. "You need prayers, Adelina," she shakes her head, "In fact, you are a lost cause. A full session of exorcism can't even save you."

Donna took off the thin golden necklace to show it to Angela. It looked delicate and elegant. Angela felt a twinge of envy. She sighed and lamented, "No one is quite the same, Donna. Your husband treats you well, and you treat him well in return. That's how it should be. "But with someone like Dexter… Do you think I can bring myself to treat him well? I stopped seeing him as my husband a long time ago, so why should I respect him or love him? I'd rather use that energy to treat myself better."

A shout suddenly penetrated my ears, and I slowly tilted my head a little to see who it was. And I was shocked to witness a fuming Kara confronting the woman I bumped with, who showed an equally angry face as her. Kara examined me and I mouthed the words, "Just go," but she remained standing there and gravely scowled at the woman. "You were clearly at fault, I saw everything you old whore! He was literally on the side, is your mind full of dicks that you don't even know right from wrong?" She snarled at her, and the woman was obviously displeased.

Curiosity was eating at her. With an effort, she made herself focus on the other titles. He had books on negotiating, battle tactics, history, agriculture…boring. Didn’t the man read any fiction? There was a book on stained glass that looked mildly interesting, but she kept scanning the shelves, hoping for something more enticing. Her search was rewarded. There, right in the middle of his shelves at eye level, was an entire shelf of books devoted to lovemaking. Wiley’s eyes boggled as she read the titles: An Illustrated Guide to the Sensual Arts. A Woman’s Climax. Emotional Need and the Sensual Virgin. There were dozens of titles.