Sound Waves Transformers Novels & Stories

•She ain't a good girl! She is the girl you don't want to mess with! ________ •He is a loved good guy in this world of hyped-up bad boys! Unless! Unless! You cross her way for the bad girl has wrapped the good guy around her little finger and makes him sin! BUT!!! •What happens when the trust is broken? '''The magical spell of euphoria is distorted and piercing pieces of betrayal unfurls making you bleed.''' __________ "Addiction is fucking heart-wrenching!" She stated taking a long drag of the cigarette which was held in between her lips. Then she blew out the smoke and jumped on the bonnet of the car. "Put this away then!" He raised his finger towards the cigarette. "Not this," she affirmed inhaling nicotine once again. "It's addiction is helpful to drown all other horrifying addictions." A pregnant pause engulfed them. The only sound was the whispering of wind with the shedding leaves of trees. The autumn had prevailed the green life likewise their souls were also shedding off its color, painfully. Agonizingly slow. "I'm always here for you!" He whispered. "I know!" Under the faint moonlight her self-pitying smile could be seen. "Besides these drugs you are the only one who is here for me." He did not say anything back for he knew she won't reply now. He too sat on the bonnet and taking the cigarette from her he inhaled the smoke. ___________ Find who the enigmatic warrior is or is that you?

6 years ago, Lydia suffered a brutal betrayal orchestrated by her own husband and step-sister, who drugged her and framed her. In a twist of fate, she ended up having a one-night stand with a stranger. Don't even remember what he looked like. Later, in the throes of death, she discovered the truth about her mother's death all those years ago. In the blink of an eye, she lost everything. 6 years later, Lydia returned with her genius son, vowing to exact revenge on all her enemies! Little did she know, she encountered an incredibly familiar man at the airport! *** The man was briskly pushing open the door to the restroom, heading to the urinal. Even with such a mundane action, he did it with unparalleled elegance and grace. Lydia, following him in a daze, saw his fierce lower body and suddenly snapped back to reality. She let out a high-pitched scream, instinctively covering her eyes with her hands, her cheeks flushed, and stood there stiffly, unsure of what to do. Lambert furrowed his brows slightly but remained calm as he continued to relieve himself. The sound of water hitting the urinal made Lydia's face even redder. She angrily shouted, "You pervert!" Little did Lydia know that Lambert, seeing her in this state, had a flicker of recognition in his eyes. Memories from many years ago flashed through his mind, and his heart couldn't help but stir. It was her!

I volunteer to be the mate of Carl Wood, the Alpha of the Nightfall pack, as a direct measure to resolve the conflict between our two packs. He marks me on a full moon night. His gaze is so fervent in that moment that I interpret his look as a genuine sign of his attraction. Carl personally leads the elite fighters across the border two years later. He grabs my head, making me witness the gruesome dismantling of my mother, father, and brother by the pack; his gaze is alight with vengeful satisfaction. "Did your father show mercy during our youth when he destroyed my pack, Aria? Do you truly believe that having you here is enough to make up for this vengeance?" Carl assumes the position as the most powerful Alpha of the northern region, with Selena Hall established at his side as his Luna. I am kept barely alive, imprisoned in the depths of the dungeon in the pack. If I attempt to end my life, Carl retrieves the bones of a relative from the cemetery and incinerates them right in front of me, bellowing with bloodshot eyes, "You're not allowed to die unless I allow you to, Aria!" I immediately cease all resistance after that. Carl's heart was pierced by a silver-tipped arrow during his escape years ago. I had to implore the dark witch to use dark magic and substitute my sound heart for his. There are only three days left before the poison completely takes hold of me.

Heads up! This story includes mature themes, strong language, and steamy scenes. Readers discretion is advised. Warm lips pressed against the sensitive skin of my neck, just below my ear, sending waves of shock down my spine. “After promising me a hot fuck, you decided to ditch me, huh Clara?” a low, male voice murmured into my hair as his hands slid down, palms flattening against my stomach, pulling me flush against a hard, solid body. I wanted to push him away, probably punch him in the face also but I'm Clara. He thinks I'm her and I have to be her. I took a deep breath, a wide smile on my face as I turned in his arms, finally looking at him. To my surprise, he was handsome, dark hair, strong jawline and I could see the confidence in his eyes. He knew Clara...maybe intimately. "I thought she has Jeremy, does she just fuck around now", I thought. “I got held up, I'm sorry,” I managed, forcing Clara’s sly smile onto my face, praying it looked convincing. “Uh-huh,” he said, his voice a low rumble. He didn’t believe me, but he didn’t care. His hand came up, his thumb brushing my lower lip. “You owe me, Clara. Big time.” ****************************************** Jenna has always had the perfect life, Her mate, Damon...the Alpha of the pack who accepted her, a pack that wanted her as their Luna..... Until it was stripped off her on the coronation night. Just minutes to the coronation time, she wakes up in Clara's body (Her mate's sister) Now she's trapped...replaced and forgotten while someone takes her crown, her mate and her position as the Luna of the pack. She must solve that mystery while living Clara's messed up life.

“Shh, little girl,” he growled, teeth catching my bottom lip. I fought the moan, but he circled my clit, my hips jerked helplessly against his hand. Then he pushed my panties aside and sank two thick fingers inside me. I soaked his palm, knees buckling as tremors wracked me. “That’s it, cum for me,” he whispered against my ear. I did. Waves crashed through me while he held me up, stroking gently, murmuring filthy praise that made it sweeter, deeper, more shattering than anything I’d ever felt with a woman. I’m a lesbian. I’ve always known it, claimed it shamelessly. I’ve mapped women’s bodies with my mouth, hands, loving every touch and gasp. My best friend’s tongue between my legs has made me come countless times. The only man I tried, my ex, was awkward, unsatisfying. I swore off them forever. I love women. I love my best friend. So why does this man, her father, the one I should never want make me wetter with one stroke than she ever has? Why am I aching for his cock, pushed inside me, thrusting relentlessly, filling me, ruining me in ways no woman could? Why does bending over his desk for him feel like the right thing to do? One forbidden touch. One devastating truth: I might never want another woman again. When I rejected the vice chancellor's advances, my best friend's obsessive aunt, she threatened expulsion. My friend took me to her father, the college owner. One look at his body and I was lost. That night in their home, hiding in the kitchen while watching him cook, I touched myself, craving what is forbidden. Will my best friend discover my sudden addiction to her father? Will her aunt ever stop wanting me?

Susanne Doyle, my wife who's a general manager, often travels to Havenport on business trips. When she comes home, she either has cuts on her mouth or bruises on her thighs. Whenever I ask her about those injuries, she always claims that she accidentally tripped and fell after getting drunk. On our third wedding anniversary, I find out that Susanne has already formed another family in Havenport. At the moment, she's nestling into another man's arms, looking very alluring and seductive. A few of her mentees sit around her and her beau as they start cheering on them. "Now that your fiance has accepted your marriage proposal, does that mean you're about to buy strawberry donuts to celebrate this occasion tonight, Susanne?" The moment I hear the words "marriage proposal", I feel thunderstruck. Susanne begins making out passionately with her new fiance, Stanley Quinn, the next moment. As I watch the loving scene unfold before my eyes, I feel as though my heart has just gotten dunked into icy waters. At the doorway, I happen to bump into Stanley, the very same man who had embraced Susanne earlier. With Susanne's mentees flanking behind him, he drags me into the washroom before punching me in the face. "Who the hell do you think you are? How dare you ogle my fiancee! Are you the one who has been harassing her through text messages? "Here's a warning for you—Susanne is my lover! If I ever see you trying to pull any tricks on her, I'll show you a world of pain!" Stanley then waves a hand. The other mentees begin roughing me up with punches and kicks. "This is just a small warning for you." He doesn't know that I'm Susanne's legal husband, much less the fact that I'm the sole reason behind her ability to snag the position as the general manager.

THIS BOOK HAS A TOUCH OF DARK ROMANCE AND IS DEFINITELY NOT SUITABLE FOR YOUNG READERS. “Ivan, what are you wearing?” Ruslan growled, his gaze seizing me up. “Clothes, of course,” I replied, trying to sound nonchalant despite my heart thumping rapidly in my ribcage. “I’m leaving for my friend’s birthday party.” “You won’t leave wearing that,” he muttered, his eyes as dark as the night. “Why?” I asked, looking into his eyes and challenging him. “Because no man other than me has the right to see you in that,” he said, his voice low and possessive. ********** I was never supposed to fall for him. He’s my stepbrother, and that’s a line we shouldn't cross. But I couldn’t help myself. He’s a powerful and ruthless man, a Mafia lord with a bad reputation. Yet I’m drawn to him, even though I know I shouldn’t be. As his little sister, I was always off-limits to him, but now, he’s starting to see me in a different way. He looks at me with a hunger that scares me, and I feel like I’m in danger. I’m torn between my loyalty to our family and my desire for him. Our love is forbidden, and it could destroy us both. His world is violent and dark, and I’m not sure I can handle it. Do I follow my heart, or do I walk away from the danger that is him?

The music made the speakers tremble, the floor vibrated with the rumble of the sound and the jumps of the crazy people. Each one in their own world, dancing together, dancing separately. Enjoying music, company and alcohol. I danced alone, with a drink in hand. Gliding, moving my hips to the rhythm of the music, not paying much attention to anything or anyone around me. Just enjoying that moment of inner peace that I was needing and he was giving it to me. It was a respite, a window that I opened myself in my own cage to let in air and I knew that as soon as I left the club the window would close and I would lock myself back in my world without fresh air. Therefore, he enjoyed everything he could. Alone. With eyes closed. Sweating the bad energy that others left me and breathing the good vibes that I had to give myself. They were approaching me. I drove them away. They invited me. I rejected them. they spoke to me I silenced them. I just wanted to dance and they were going to have to respect that. It was amazing how loud music could be my oxygen tank. It silenced my thoughts, freed me from tensions. There was nothing more relaxing in my life than dancing with my eyes closed and the volume turned up to a thousand. I twirled, I jumped, I wiggled, I hummed, and I sang. The brightly colored lights flickered making it difficult to see, but it was what I liked the most, going blind for an instant, forgetting that I had the ability to see the world, a false, disastrous and difficult world.

By the time I got home from my business trip, it was already past midnight—and my husband wasn't there. A woman's blouse lay on the sofa. It wasn't mine. I called him. He said he was working late at the office. I didn't bother with pretense. "Whose blouse is on the sofa?" His tone was light and casual. "Who else would it be? It's obviously a gift for you. Try it on." Suspicious, I picked it up and held it against myself. The blouse was clearly one size too small. "Honey, this is a size S. I always wear M." My husband owns a clothing company. He handles all my clothes. He's even used my measurements to design women's wear. There's no way he doesn't know my size. On the phone, he froze for half a second, then spoke as if piecing something together. "This is a new women's line I'm launching. I ordered custom pieces for you and my sister. I must've grabbed the wrong one. I'll switch it tomorrow." A moment later, his voice softened with exhaustion. "Babe, you've been gone for days. Without you, I feel so tired… I miss you so much…" It was already late into the night. Hearing him sound vulnerable—something he rarely did—made my chest tighten. I blamed myself for overthinking. But the moment I hung up, realization struck. His sister has the same build as me. She always wears size M.

To Willa Fowler, I'm not her husband, but rather, a non-performing asset that awaits her handling. When I fall sick and ask her for help, she grows impatient with me. "This is a low-tier problem that you should be dealing with on your own. There's no need to report to me about it." When I burst into tears from an emotional breakdown, she berates me, "If you lose control of your emotions, you'll just show everyone else the vulnerability in our alliance. Next time, I'll have the PR team teach you how to manage your emotions." Even when I call her for help after getting into a car crash, she doesn't hesitate to hang up on me. "Everything concerning you isn't important enough for me to suspend the hundred-billion-dollar transaction I'm performing right now." I spend seven days in the ICU getting my life saved afterward. On the first day of getting home, I witness Willa bending down to gently coax another young man into taking his medication. She opens her mouth in an attempt to explain the situation to me. But I just chuckle bitterly before handing over the paperwork I've already prepared in advance to her. This time, I sound exactly like her. "Ms. Fowler, regarding our marriage project, after a comprehension evaluation, the return on the investment is deemed too low. Therefore, I'd like to officially propose a termination on this project. "This is the divorce agreement. Please leave your signature here."