Wordgirl Crying Novels & Stories

Seventeen‑year‑old Raven has spent her whole life drifting through the foster system, never staying long enough to call anywhere home. With her eighteenth birthday—and the end of state support—only weeks away, she’s sent to the strange little town of Hallow’s Edge, a place obsessed with Halloween and thick with secrets. The Connors, her new foster family, are nothing like the others. Warm. Protective. Magical. And their son Noah? He’s distant, intense, and impossible to read… yet Raven feels an instant pull toward him she can’t explain. But Hallow’s Edge is waking up. Students are disappearing. Shadows move where they shouldn’t. And Raven’s dreams are filled with a crying woman and a warning she can’t escape. When Raven’s dormant witch powers begin to stir, she discovers she’s the last heir of a powerful witch bloodline—and Noah is bound to her by a fate older than the town itself. In Hallow’s Edge, nothing is accidental. Not her arrival. Not her magic.

He swore I was his forever, but he stood at that altar, put a ring on another woman’s finger, and left me pregnant like I was nothing, and our baby meant nothing. I was twenty. Young, stupid, and poor enough to think love could win against his family. It couldn’t. They crushed me, and Sebastian let them. So I ran and buried the crying, broken girl who loved him and turned myself into someone colder, harder, someone who doesn’t break so easily anymore. Now I’m back after five years. Successful, untouchable, and ready to hurt him the way he hurt me. He looks at me like he’s seeing a ghost, eyes full of regret, telling me he never stopped loving me, that he wants me back… and that he wants his daughter. Too bad because sorry doesn’t fix the nights I cried alone. The only thing I want from Sebastian Hale now is revenge.

I married Emory, my fated mate. But he never loved me. His first love, Ophelia, was stricken with the Lunar Blight. Her dying wish, she said, was to have a mating ceremony with Emory, to become his Luna. I refused. From that day on, to Emory and our son Leo, I was nothing but a selfish, cruel woman. Leo would intentionally feed me things I was allergic to. He’d pretend to get lost during the winter hunt, leaving me to search for him in a blizzard for a day and a night until I nearly died… It was all to keep me from disturbing Emory and Ophelia. So when he started crying and throwing a tantrum, demanding I go catch him a Silver-Frost Rabbit from the dangerous depths of the forest at night, I finally said no. “You don’t have to keep making me sick anymore,” I told him. “I won’t bother your father and Ophelia again.” Because I’m terminally ill. My wolf is fading. I’m going to die soon.

To help Sean pay off his high-interest loans, I sold my house. He hugged me tightly, crying, and promised to marry me on next year's Valentine's Day. It happened to be Valentine's Day when I paid off the last of his debt. However, what I saw shattered me—he was in bed with another woman. He arrogantly mocked me: "What are you staring at? You're not much different from her, are you? Go buy some rubbers for us." That's when it hit me—he had lied to me. Later, I agreed to marry the man my parents had chosen for me before they passed away. On the wedding day, Sean and his friends came to mock me: "Ella, do you think that I'll marry you if you just wear a wedding dress and follow me around? You're so shameless!" However, everything changed when the priest announced the exchange of rings. At that moment, as Sean's uncle knelt and placed the ring on my finger, I saw a flash of fear in Sean's eyes.

I was Alpha Damian Jones' fated mate. At the mating ceremony, he had made a Blood Moon vow in front of my pack. He had claimed that I, Eva Lopez, would be his one and only Luna in this lifetime. It had been the happiest moment in my life. Seven years had passed since then, and yet I was still a virgin—an untouched Luna who had yet to be marked by her Alpha. Still, I was willing to live my life like this. But not long ago, Damian returned from the battlefield with a she-wolf by his side. She was Chloe Lane, the daughter of the Bloodfang pack's Alpha. He told me that she was here as a guest and that I should take good care of her. I treated Chloe like a little sister of mine and took great care of her. That was, until I decided to visit her with a glass of warm milk one night. When I reached her room, I heard suppressed, breathless moans coming from inside the room. Next, I heard Damian's husky voice. "Why are you crying?" he asked. "Isn't this what you've always wanted?"

A comedy of errors, that offers second chances for first love in this BDSM Mafia, Reverse Harem Romance. In that moment of embarrassment, fear and dread, I do the unthinkable…….. I jump into the black clad stranger's arms, and kiss him with all the drama of a soap opera. Yes, I meant it to be for show to avoid my stalker, but .....Let’s just say it’s not all fake when I practically swoon like the well-to-do British lady I’m impersonating. “Renfield tricked me,” I pant, pointing my shaking finger at the obnoxious blonde man, literally crying, this is all so hysterical to him. “Dracula's spell is too powerful. I can't fight it, go! Go find Van Helsing!" How did this happen? Nicky! That’s right, this is all my orphan brother, Roman Nikolai Cross’ fault! Ever since that tweedle twap jerk named me after the bad luck stray cat outside our orphanage, there is no end to the comedy of errors that is my life. I was hoping to avoid the so tragic it’s funny or so funny it’s tragic stigma with my second chance on life, but no such luck with his latest shenanigans.

My name is Mark Thompson. Not long after I became a mortician, I came down with a strange condition. The moment I touch a corpse, I see their final memories play out before my eyes. It's not that I enjoy sticking my nose into other people's business. Those visions just force their way into my head. The first body my mentor ever had me restore belonged to a wealthy young man who'd been mangled in a car crash. The second I touched his shattered neck, I couldn't stop myself from saying something to the grieving family beside me. "His car didn't malfunction. The brake line was cut. "The cutters are still hidden beneath the spare tire in his wife's trunk." The crying stopped instantly, and everyone turned to stare at the woman who had been pretending to mourn. Two weeks later, she was arrested. She had hired someone to kill her husband and staged the murder as a traffic accident. After that, people from both sides of the law started lining up outside the funeral home in the middle of the night.

I gave up ten years of my life and went to prison to protect my sister, Jasmine. In return, she took my baby, claiming my one-night stand with the ruthless mafia king, Dominic Valentino, as her own. Now, she sits on a stolen throne, playing the perfect mafia wife. And I become my son's night nanny. Dominic is lethal, cold, and suspicious of everyone. He married Jasmine out of duty, yet he refuses to touch her. But the moment I step into his house, his eyes lock onto me. He doesn't know I'm the woman who saved his life in a bloody alley a year ago. He doesn't know the baby crying in the nursery is mine. All he knows is that the air burns whenever we are in the same room. My sister thinks I'm just a broken ex-con she can easily crush. She forgot one thing. I didn't just survive prison. I learned how to run an empire in the dark. And I am taking my son, my man, and my throne back.

Oh yeah! Oh Brandon!" Alex screams as I suck her clit into my mouth and gently tap it with my tongue. Sliding a finger into her pussy, I piston it in and out while I devour her clit with my mouth. Alex is rocking all over the couch now, moaning and crying words of encouragement. "Oh! Oh! Just like that! Oh yeah! Oh Fuck!" she pants, as she grabs my hair and humps her pussy against my face. ⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️ This is a filthy, no-limits collection of taboo erotic. Step siblings, step-daddies, group play, rough dominance, lesbian heat, orgies, and kinks that would make the devil blush. If that scares you… keep scrolling. Still here? Good. You’re exactly who this is for. This isn’t romance with a side of spice. This is pure, addictive, taboo sex—short, interconnected stories that keep getting darker, wetter, and more forbidden. This story pushes limits, shatters morals, and explores the kind of desire people pretend they don’t fantasize about. The first hit is free. The rest will cost you coins—and maybe your morals. If you’re ready for sin without apology… enter.

“Valerian!” a cry came from outside and my feet rushed to the door, my body having recognised the voice before my brain could comprehend what was happening. I yanked the door open and almost broke down crying at the sight before me, “Queen Lyla!” Bethany gasped from behind me. I scooped her into my arms, my eyes searching for any unwanted presence before rushing her into the living room. “Valerian put me down, we don’t have much time!” she rushed out the command as she struggled to get down. Silently obeying, I put her down, taking note of how she looked and it wasn’t pretty. Her hair, that was always neatly made, looked like a bird’s nest; twigs and leaves hanging from the knots. Her long white sleeping robe dirty and bloody from her waist down, she looked a royal mess; with a bunch of blankets wrapped around her upper half. “My Queen, what happened?” Beth asked as she handed me my medicine bag.