Zola Novels & Stories

“Yup.” I traveled us out to Aunt Zola’s office at Partha Octia University. She teaches a few classes here, raining in shadow control- to- accepting other species and their cultures. She is great at her job, and probably too overqualified with her life experiences. Her complaints are never about her job, but about her students at times. She sat behind her desk with her hands on her forehead, staring down at a large book. She was very focused, looking stressed beyond belief. Her hair curtained around her, covering the book material. I couldn’t see what she was looking into.

Elena prayed for Monday to arrive faster than any day in her life. All weekend, Mr. Lorenzo’s voice echoed in her head—saying her name in that deep, smooth tone at the grocery store, the way his dark eyes had slowly dragged over her body, the dangerous half-smile that made her knees weak. Her pussy stayed wet and achy the entire time. She touched herself every night and every morning, fingers plunging desperately or her pink vibrator buzzing against her swollen clit, but the orgasms only left her hungrier. Fantasies weren’t enough anymore. She needed the real thing. She needed Mr. Lorenzo to fuck her raw.

And looked. The pink lily across her back was lush and vibrant; she could almost catch the scent of its delicate petals as they unfurled. The leaves were a cool, dark green, the pollen was a warm gold. She looked hard, she really searched, but that ugly word that Gideon had inked into her back was hidden, it was gone, replaced by something breathtakingly lovely. Zoe had so cleverly used the lines and curves of those awful four letters to draw the petals and the leaves, and somehow she had completely covered over, erased, destroyed the word.

Isabelle asked. “Can I get back to you on that one?” Belinda asked, dimly hoping that this psychotic bitch from hell might have a sense of humour. She did. She laughed at Belinda’s joke as she slashed the knife at the computer programmer’s stomach. 2. Tuesday 27th April 2010 02:20

Rain fell lightly from all directions like fine sifted flour being shaken from the heavens. This was England, Sussex to be precise, in the middle of summer. Joy, the Zimbabwean care worker, opened the front door and nodded without speaking as she let Lola in. Not for the first time did Lola wonder how a person so dour-looking could be so named. The lack of communication with joyless Joy bothered Lola. Usually others warmed to her, and especially Africans who were always delighted by the mere fact that she knew something about their continent. But then perhaps it was not fair to blame Joy. Working in such a place was bound to squeeze out every last bit of joy from a person.

A greedy and stingy man he was. I saw Yeka run to me. She had blood splashes on her blonde hair and some stains on her white shirt. She didn't look happy at all. "I deserve a raise for this!" she pointed at her hair. "It's a nice color," I told her and she glared at me. "Have you taken her back?" she asked me. I nodded. My jaw clenched when I remembered Rosaline's bloodied face. "Let's burn this place to crisp," Yeka said and brought out a grenade from her pocket.

WARNING: This Chapter and the next one Contains Bestiality. Read at your own risk. My name is Zara, and for the past two years, I’ve been the live-in maid for Elarik Voss, the enigmatic owner of this sprawling estate hidden deep in the misty forests of the countryside. He’s a tall, brooding man in his late thirties, with sharp features, piercing silver eyes, and a body carved from marble, broad shoulders, chiseled abs, and arms that could crush stone.

he says pointing to the sofa at the other side of the room. I walk to sit down and I was met with the most beautiful site ever. A rose garden but not only roses but different kind of flowers and there is a lovers bench and a small flowing river,the water is very bright. Then my attention move to the name on the entrance board. Z&D 4E. Zara Gomez. Who is Zara Gomez? I question myself and decided to ask about Dean after my session. I keep on watching as the butterflies land of the flowers and stay there for a while before moving. Such a lovely site.

“Whether it works or not hinges on this move.” James' heart clenched as he watched Zella’s fate intertwine within the Zirconia Path Scroll. Beside him, Thea was extremely anxious, her eyes glued to Hetsema’s painful contortions and agonized screams. Although not Hetsema’s biological mother, she couldn’t bear witnessing his misery. Whether it was because he was James’ son or simply a being from the Greater Realms, it was excruciating to see him suffer.

Peaceful home, peaceful pack, peaceful neighbouring packs too. Zara sat behind Alex's massive mahogany desk, reviewing the harvest reports from the agricultural lands from the pack farmers. She frowned. She felt... felt a bit off. She put a hand to her stomach. It wasn't nausea. It was a flutter. A tiny, microscopic spark of energy in her belly.