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The Undead's Personal Slave

Samantha never expected to find magic in her hometown, let alone in a dimly lit bar on a rainy Tuesday night. Yet here she was, perched on a barstool at the Black Swan, her world about to tilt on its axis. The air thrummed with an otherworldly energy she couldn't quite place. Ethereal dancers moved like smoke across the floor, their bodies fluid and mesmerizing. As Samantha nursed her drink, she felt the weight of curious stares prickling her skin. That's when she saw him. Marcus. A name she didn't know yet, but one that would soon be etched into her very soul. Their eyes locked across the crowded room, and Samantha's breath caught in her throat. He moved with predatory grace, all lean muscle and barely restrained power. Their first interaction was as intoxicating as it was bewildering. One moment, he was her gallant protector, rescuing her from an overly aggressive drunk. The next, his eyes hardened to chips of ice as he snarled, "Stupid girl," before melting into the shadows. Samantha's mind reeled, but her body hummed with an excitement she couldn't explain. Little did she know, this encounter was merely the first step into a world beyond her wildest fantasies – a realm where vampires ruled the night and pain blurred exquisitely with pleasure. As she delved deeper into this hidden society, Samantha found herself drawn to the intoxicating blend of power, submission, and supernatural allure. The crack of a whip, the whisper of leather, the exquisite sting of fangs – each sensation pushed her boundaries and ignited desires she never knew existed. But with every ecstatic high came the sobering reality of danger. Vampire politics were as deadly as they were intricate, and Samantha soon realized she was a pawn in a game where the stakes were life, death, and eternal servitude. As she left the Black Swan that night, Samantha couldn't shake the feeling that she stood on the precipice of something life-changing. She had no idea how right she was, or how deeply she would fall into a passionate, dangerous dance with forces beyond her imagination. The real question was: in this world where pleasure and peril intertwined so intimately, would she emerge empowered... or lose herself completely?
rach_sales · 91.3K Views

Four Split Personalities

Battling an unusual form of personality dissociation, Motan admits to feeling the weight of immense pressure bearing down on him. Amidst this turmoil, he finds solace in a virtual escape called "The Realm of Innocence," a game that has become his sanctuary from stress. In the realm where ambiguity reigns, Motan's behavior is unpredictable and impetuous, making him the instigator and mastermind behind myriad events that spiral out of control. Yet, within the sphere of virtue, his resilience and courage shine through, earning him the admiration of many who see him as the epitome of a righteous knight and a fair judge. When dwelling in the balance of absolute neutrality, he adopts a demeanor of modesty and lethargy, mirroring the ordinary essence of every soul. Conversely, in the domain of chaotic evil, he transforms into a figure of madness and cruelty, embodying the very essence of a demon and deceiver, showing kindness only to himself. "Tan Mo is the most extraordinary Bard I have ever encountered, though he is... perplexing, to say the least," comments Countess Leisha, reflecting on his complex nature. "Mor is a man of distinguished integrity! Having met him just once, I am convinced that he is someone one can confidently turn their back to," declares Gwen, the leader of the Rose Rot, acknowledging his noble character. "If you're in search of the ideal neighbor, look no further than Hei Fan," recommends Alchemist Luna, suggesting his suitability for companionship. Yet, amidst these varied testimonies, a warning resonates, "Don't talk about that man!" indicating a mysterious, perhaps darker aspect of his persona that remains unexplored.
Micro-leaf Paulownia · 306.5K Views

The original book has been published

I’d been watching her for hours. The tension in Grace’s shoulders, the way she kept rubbing her temples as if trying to squeeze out more energy, more focus it wasn’t normal. I had seen this kind of exhaustion before in students who pushed themselves too hard, but this felt different. Something was off, but I didn’t know how to help her. She was always so diligent, so determined. Her parents didn’t give her a break, and she didn’t give herself one either. It was hard to understand, honestly. The pressure they put on her, the way they used her as a tool for their success it was crushing. But Grace… she kept going. No matter how hard it was. No matter how little she seemed to care about her own well-being, she never stopped. Then it happened. I was talking about a passage in the textbook when I saw her sway slightly in her seat. I paused, watching her try to steady herself. Her face had turned pale, her lips pressed together in a tight line. “Grace?” I asked cautiously, my voice breaking through the silence. She didn’t respond. Her eyes were unfocused, glazed over. She lifted her hand to her forehead, but before she could say anything, her body went limp. She collapsed forward, hitting the desk with a loud thud, then slumping to the side. My heart dropped. I rushed to her side in an instant, my hands trembling as I checked her pulse. She was still breathing, but barely. Her skin was cold, too cold. Panic rose in my chest. I shouted for help, but no one else was around. I couldn’t waste time waiting for someone else to show up. I had to act fast. “Grace,” I whispered, shaking her gently, hoping she’d wake up, but she didn’t. I scooped her up, cradling her in my arms like a fragile doll, and rushed her to my car. My hands were shaking as I gripped the steering wheel, my mind racing with worry. Her parents were unreachable, as usual. I didn’t even bother calling them again. It wouldn’t make a difference. I needed to get her to the hospital, and fast. At the hospital, the doctor didn’t waste any time. He ran a few tests before his face turned serious, and I knew something was terribly wrong. The words that came next almost didn’t register. “Intracranial tumor.” I stood there, frozen, as if the room had stopped spinning. This… this couldn’t be real. Grace? A tumor? I tried to stay calm for her sake, but it wasn’t easy. I couldn’t fathom how this girl, who had lived her life so caught up in the pursuit of perfection, had ended up here, in this cold hospital bed. I watched her face, pale and motionless, as the doctor began explaining the situation, but none of his words seemed to matter. All I could focus on was the fact that she had pushed herself so hard too hard that it had finally broken her. And I couldn’t help but wonder… how much of this was my fault? How many times had I let her go on, pushing herself past her limits, without stepping in to say, “Enough. You need to rest. You need to care for yourself”? I had been so caught up in the work, in helping her achieve what she thought she needed to achieve, that I didn’t see the signs. I didn’t see how badly she was hurting until it was too late. Now, all I could do was watch over her, hoping that the girl who had given everything for others would have a chance to heal. But I knew one thing for sure: her parents wouldn’t be the ones to make sure of that. That responsibility fell on me now. My debut novel, Diary of the Useless One, tells the story of a girl trapped in her family’s vision of perfection,her worth measured only by the glory she brings while her own struggles go unseen. As my first book, I’d love for you to show it some love and join me on this emotional journey. From poignant dramas to heart-stirring romances, my stories are designed to keep readers engaged, offering unexpected twists and heartfelt moments.
Mosehinm · 127 Views
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