Zola Stories Novels & Stories

TABLE OF CONTENTS Prologue CHAPTER ONE – ROAD TO RIYA CHAPTER TWO – APEX PREDATOR CHAPTER THREE – HUNTING PARTY CHAPTER FOUR – TRAPPED CHAPTER FIVE – CAPITAL’S TRUTH Bonus story  A BEAUTIFUL DAY TO DIE YOUNG * CHAPTER ONE – THE INVITE TO DEATH * CHAPTER TWO – BAD FRIENDS, BAD * CHAPTER THREE – CRUMBLING FLESH OF CHILDREN  THE BIRTH OF ERIC KANE  BLOODY METELE  WRONG TURN  MYSTERIES OF FATE  DOCTOR BROWN  LATE KATE FOSTER You are about to journey through a story or should I say stories of suspense and survival. The story of Roxanne, Eric Kane,,, Ariana, Thieves, and A Christian and an Atheist

He kissed her roughly, biting her lower lip, then stepped back. “Clean yourself up before the next class. And leave that door open on your way out.” Kane picked up his bag and walked out of the lecture hall like nothing had happened, leaving Lila leaning against the podium, cum dripping down her legs, completely ruined and utterly addicted. End of Book 2

The two were from the noble families of the kingdom of Borney, therefore in contention to mate the princess. Their families led the search for the missing princess. They instigated the love wars of the islands, and with suspicion they watched their backs to see who could betray the other between themselves. The other nobles had given up on her. Apparently, they accused her of letting down the traditions of the land when she needed to uphold them. They felt insulted for falling for the mysterious stranger instead of them. Princess Zuba was now in the strong arms of a werewolf stranger. “Hold on; come here”, said Jason, holding her tight. He bit her side neck with his fangs and hugged her a co

Prologue Kanua Village, Zambia; January, 1991 There was a murderous glow in the eyes of the ten year old Luyando Chimeko as she stood watch over her drunk and passed out father snoring away on the mat inside the tent that a good Samaritan had lent to them which they had come to regard as their home for the past one week.

Zola said sadly, urging me to go to them. Since she arrived, Zola and I disagreed on many things, but the thing we were most excited about was motherhood. The unconditional bond between a mother and child. These may not be my children, but what if they were? I would hope someone would help them. I crawled on all fours toward them, knowing that it was the only thing I could do for them. I could set them free, just like Garth did for me. I started crying, knowing that no matter how bad the past 24 hours had been for me. It was worse for him.

He had read it when she showed him the final proofs and had held them for a long moment without speaking because the dedication was the thing itself and anything said about it would have been less. For Helena Calloway and James Obi, who built the argument in the dark. For the people the argument was built for. For Elliot, who learned to look. She closed the book and put it on the table and picked up her coffee. “Zara gets her copy today,” she said. “I promised her the first one.” “She has been telling her entire class about it for three weeks,” he said. “I know. Nicole told me. Apparently Zara described it to her teacher as a book about her garden and the people who worked very hard for a lo

The stories she had shared with Theo melded with the narratives of the dream realm, creating a kaleidoscope of tales that danced before her in a mesmerizing display. As she wandered through this fantastical land, Mama Hazel encountered creatures of myth and magic, each one a guardian of stories untold, a keeper of secrets waiting to be revealed. The characters she met whispered of forgotten tales, of hidden truths, and of the transformative power of storytelling that bound their fates together in an intricate dance of destiny.

I'm very grateful to her, but after years of closing myself off from everyone, it's not easy to open up again. I finished getting ready for school, so I went down to have breakfast. As usual, Aunt Autumn made one of her odd flavoured pancakes. It was purple this time, which was a lot better than the green pancakes she made last time. It tasted like ube, which is a purple yam that we got from my grandmother yesterday. To be honest, despite receiving so much stuff from her, I've actually never met my grandmother. Ever since that accident, the thought of passing by the same place where my mother died... It just leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

It was late by the time I got home to pack. I sat down on the couch and glanced over at the dining table. It was a mess. There were dishes everywhere, as well as a plate of braised short ribs Dexter was known for and a pasta bake Brianna had been perfecting since forever. It wasn't hard to picture the two of them in the kitchen together while Brianna's ankle healed, cooking side by side, then sitting across from each other over drinks. And the diary I'd filled to 100 pages was underneath one of the dishes, used as a trivet. It was covered in grease stains.

Author's Note This book is a short compilation of erotic stories. Please note that not all entries are heavily erotic—some lean more toward emotional moments, dramatic tension, or character interaction. Also, 99% of these stories don’t follow a traditional plot, so don’t be confused if there's no clear beginning, middle, or end. They’re written more for mood, moments, and expression than full narratives. Enjoy the ride,no overthinking needed. 😉 ********************************************* Kael didn’t wait.