Metal Knuckles Novels & Stories

A darkness is coming, and it’s the same darkness that took Amy’s husband. Now it wants her son. A merciless, bloodthirsty hitman who has a dark secret will target the former actress and MMA fighter. She will also have to deal with a bomb, a terrorist group called the Infantry-men, and an evil version of herself. Will a mother uncover the truth behind her husband’s disappearance? Will she die herself while trying to find out what happened to the love of her life? Amy needs to survive the night so she can protect her son while searching for her husband. The clock is ticking, and the mother will have to protect her only baby from a dark and malevolent force that seeks to annihilate everything in its path.

Layla is standing too close to him. She knows it the moment she stops moving, when the space between them shifts from accidental to deliberate. Luca doesn’t step back. He never does. He only looks down at her, dark eyes steady and unreadable, as if he’s been waiting to see whether she’d do exactly this. “You’re doing it again,” he says quietly. “Doing what?” Her voice gives her away—soft, breathless. “Standing where you shouldn’t.” His gaze drops briefly to her mouth. “And pretending you don’t know.” Heat coils low in her stomach. “Maybe I don’t care.” That gets his attention. Something sharp flickers across his expression—control tightening. He reaches out slowly, giving her time to pull away. She doesn’t. His fingers hook lightly under her chin, tilting her face up. The touch is barely there, but it steals her breath all the same. “Careful,” he murmurs. “That’s not something you say to men like me.” “Why?” she whispers. “Because you might misunderstand?” His thumb traces her jaw, deliberate. “No,” he says. “Because I won’t.” His hand stays there, steady, grounding. She feels the restraint in him now—the effort it takes not to close the distance completely. “There are lines I don’t cross lightly,” Luca says. “And once I do, Layla, I don’t step back.” She swallows. “Then why are you still here?” He leans in just enough that his breath ghosts her skin. “Because you haven’t asked me to.”

My insanely wealthy parents always tell me that they came from a poor background. As their children, my siblings and I mustn't waste our lives away on fun and games. They set up a trial for me by requesting that I submit an application in advance for all expenses that are over 50 cents. On the day I'm supposed to take my SATs, it's raining heavily outside. Since my exam venue is located 18 miles away from home, I decide to submit an application for a 100-dollar Uber fee. But my dad slaps me in return. "We used to scale over mountains just to get to school back in the day! Don't think you get to enjoy the perks of transportation just because we have money!" After that, he empties my pockets before kicking me out of the house. I end up all sprawled on the muddy ground while feeling raindrops pelting on me relentlessly. When I finally reach the exam venue on foot, I notice the news being played on the huge screen across the street. It turns out that my parents and William Gentry, my older brother, have spent ten million dollars on a popular band to celebrate my adopted sister, Selene Gentry, earning a passing grade on her math test. Apparently, passing her math test is her trial.

“You really think a chrome leash makes me yours?” Timothy’s voice was a jagged shard of glass, his pulse thrumming frantically against the cold metal of the Blackwell collar. Kan leaned in, the scent of expensive bourbon and gunpowder clinging to him. He captured Timothy’s chin, forcing those defiant lavender eyes to meet his own. “It doesn’t make you mine, little ghost. It just keeps you still long enough for me to show you why you’ll never want to leave.” Behind him, Gideon’s shadow fell over them both, heavy and suffocating. “Careful, Kan,” the enforcer rumbled, his knuckles still stained with the blood of the men who’d tried to stop them. “He’s a reaper. He doesn't want a home. He wants a body count.” One Ghost. Two Predators. No Escape. Timothy Gal is a shadow. A high-level operative for the Nash Rebellion, he’s spent his life as a nameless tool in the war-torn Sopttyi District. He doesn’t feel, he doesn’t miss, and he certainly doesn't belong to anyone. But when a routine surveillance mission in Saati Town goes south, he catches the eye of the two most dangerous men in the Blackwell Mafia. Gideon Blackwell is the muscle—a man of controlled violence and territorial hunger. Kan Nelblack is the mind—a predator with a silver tongue and a taste for absolute submission. They don’t just want Timothy’s secrets. They want his soul.

"Do you know what it feels like to know that all the decisions that you've ever taken in your life are masterminded by someone?" Eleanor Welsh is an intelligent, independent girl who always wanted her life to be in her control since the tragic fatal accident that claimed her parents' lives at twelve. Being an orphan at a such tender age, her father's best friend, Antonio Welsh, took her into his custody but sold her off to a contracted marriage later on to a heartless billionaire, Ethan Grayson, in dire need to save his business from bankruptcy. What happens when the mysteries of her parent's death unfold with her protective husband backing her up? Ethan walked into the dark room unhurriedly with both hands in the pockets of his pants. He was furious, yet he had his usually calm expression. He walked to the fireplace in the room which was the only source of light in the room and pulled out a hot metal. From the way the metal glowed in a dark-red crimson color, even a fool can tell that the metal had been in the fire for hours. Walking to where a man who was chained to the wall with blood all over his body was with the metal still in his hands, Ethan stood before the man, his eyes black from the lack of light in the room. "Mr. Grayson, please..." the man pleaded in almost a whisper "I didn't know she was your wife." Before anybody in the room could blink, the hot metal was placed on the man's face. The man screamed in pain as hot tears fell from his eyes, before fainting. "Take him to his boss as my gift. Anyone that touches my property, I will burn him in hell." Max nodded.

I received an order to feed someone's dogs at home. But when I opened the door, what greeted me wasn't a hungry pet—it was the campus belle herself. She stuck out her tongue, a glint of metal from her tongue piercing catching the light, and said, "I'm starving…"

“No,” she breathed, true panic seizing her. “Mark, don’t —” “This is for the mess,” he said, his voice devoid of all mercy. The cold, rounded end of the handle nudged against her soaked flesh. It was so much broader than a finger, impossibly foreign. “And for the defiance," he completed before he pushed the handle of the knife inside her pussy. The stretch was immediate and shocking. It wasn’t pain. It was a profound, overwhelming fullness. The metal was cool against her burning, clenching heat. A broken scream tore from her throat as he worked it deeper, inch by relentless inch, filling her in a way that was utterly degrading. It was violation given shape and weight. He seated it fully, the cool silver pressing against her deepest parts. He held it there, letting her feel the full, impossible intrusion. Her body fought it, spasming around the unyielding object, which only made the sensation more brutal, more specific. She was panting, her tears soaking the linen, her entire universe reduced to the cold metal splitting her open. “Now,” Mark said, his breath warm against her ear as he leaned over her. His hand remained on the handle, not moving it yet. “You will stay just like this. And you will finish your dinner.” ..... Enter a world of passion, pleasure, and desire with “Steamy Encounters."

Liora Rhodes has nothing - a crumbling apartment, an empty bank account, and a metal box her mother left behind with one brutal instruction: find the truth. What she finds instead is Damian Hawthorne. A Billonaire. Ruthless. The man who built his empire on the grave of her brother Elias. Liora has to choose: finish what she came to do, or trust and love the man she was never supposed to want. Some Truth don’t set you free. They just change who’s holding the gun.

Ean's face twisted with anger as he grabbed me by the arm, dragging me toward the old, rusted freezer in the corner of the warehouse. "You're going to feel what Helen felt," he spat. "Maybe that'll teach you not to mess with her." I struggled against him, panic rising in my chest. "Ean, this is insane! It was an accident! Let me explain—" He wasn’t listening. He shoved me inside the freezing metal box and slammed the door shut. The echo of the lock clicking into place made my heart pound in my ears. I banged on the door with my fists. "Ean, please! You can’t do this!" I screamed, but the sound of his footsteps grew fainter as he walked away. He left me with nothing but a single bowl of water, like I was some kind of prisoner. I slumped against the cold metal, shivering. The temperature plummeted almost instantly. The hum of the freezer kicked in, and I realized too late—it wasn’t broken like he thought. It was working, and I was trapped. My body shook uncontrollably as the cold seeped into my bones. I screamed for help until my throat was raw, clawing at the walls in desperation. My bloody handprints smeared across the icy surface, a silent plea for mercy that no one would hear. Seven days passed. When Ean finally returned, the look on his face was one of smug satisfaction. He had expected me to beg, to apologize. But when they pried open the freezer, all they found was my frozen body, stiff and silent, my suffering long over.

I have always had an almost pathological sense of paranoia. Ever since I was a child, I was convinced that the people around me were out to get me. Back in elementary school, when everyone was lining up for their student ID photos, I flatly refused to have mine taken. I insisted that the district office was going to use my picture for identity theft. The situation escalated so badly that the principal had to personally sit me down and spend half an hour trying to convince me otherwise. Then, there was the fingerprint registration system in middle school. The school required every student to submit their fingerprints to access the campus buildings. I was so terrified that someone would steal my biometric data that I literally rubbed the skin off all ten fingertips to make them unreadable. Even when my fingers were bleeding, I kept shouting that they were trying to steal my identity. I would rather climb over the school fence every day than cooperate. Every relative I had called me crazy. My parents were so fed up that they seriously considered having me admitted to a psychiatric hospital. I did not care. I guarded my privacy with obsessive determination, gritting my teeth and holding my ground all the way up to the eve of the final exams. Then came the day before the exam. That afternoon, our homeroom teacher, Tracy Collins, walked into the classroom carrying a metal lockbox. A warm, motherly smile spread across her face as she set it down on the desk. "Everyone," she said, "to make sure nobody forgets their documents tomorrow, I'd like you to hand over your IDs and exam admission slips for safekeeping tonight." She patted the lockbox reassuringly. "Tomorrow morning, I'll personally return them to each of you outside the testing center. This way, there's absolutely nothing that can go wrong." The class was deeply moved by her thoughtfulness. Some students even looked close to tears as they eagerly pulled out their documents and lined up to hand them over. Everyone except me. My hand clamped down over my pocket so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Cold sweat poured down my back. A sharp alarm bell was ringing in my head. Trying not to attract attention, I fished out a spare flip phone from my bag, ducked beneath my desk, and dialed emergency services. As soon as the call connected, I lowered my voice and spoke into the receiver. "Hello. I'd like to report a crime. My name is Charles. "I believe a teacher at St. Alden High is working with an identity-fraud ring and is planning a large-scale operation tonight involving examination fraud and identity theft."