In The Handmaid's Tale, Margaret Atwood dedicates her famous novel to a relative, Mary Webster. Webster had survived a hanging as a witch in the 1600s New England. Upon learning about this, I wrote this story. What if, during that long night of dangling at a rope, Mary had been approached by Old Scratch and offered revenge? In turn, she would promise her soul. Drawing upon other stories I've read, I created this story of Mary Webster, historically a good and pious woman, into a woman seeking revenge, and by doing so, pays with her soul.

The Christmas ghost haunting the Wesley family is defeated not by faith or reason, but by the honest, instinctual terror of their mastiff, Jack, whose fear proves the truth of the unseen.

In the shadow of ancient Rome, an archaeologist unearths more than artifacts. A forbidden gate whispers secrets across centuries. When Iole, a modern archaeologist, uncovers an ancient Roman gate, she's swept into a world where science meets the supernatural. Alongside Lucius, a brilliant Roman scientist ahead of his time and eager to explore the uncharted, Iole unravels a timeless mystery of love, curses, and the secrets of time itself. The past beckons, and destiny awaits beyond the misty veil.

In Nero’s corpse-choked Rome, Campanula Necatrix seals its doors against the Lupercal’s black heart. No one stirs. Childish giggles fracture into throat-shredding shrieks. Mothers’ wails erupt as phantom blades vivisect unborn spawn, throats vomiting clotted gore. Then the bells awaken: cymbala anklets—bronze death-rattles forged from flayed courtesan skin—jackhammer cobblestones into crimson craters, ghost stomps pulverizing ancient bones to marrow-slurry in seismic rape-orgasms that hijack your pulse.

Boston, 1636. , a respected midwife and devoted mother, holds private religious discussions that draw women and men alike, including the Massachusetts Bay Colony's governor's niece, Elizabeth Winthrop (ancestress of the author). Bound by a shared spiritual hunger, their quiet friendship becomes Anne's secret strength as she challenges the rigid doctrines of Governor John Winthrop and the colony's powerful clergy.

After her twin brother Elliot disappears, Elleanore Fonze assumes his identity and enters the elite Alpha-only Royal Triskelion Academy. Disguised beneath scent suppressors and her brother’s uniform, she navigates a world of powerful heirs, strict hierarchy, and dangerous secrets.

He thought it was their first date, but she knew it was their anniversary. Gloria is anticipating the warmth of her upcoming golden anniversary; She is filled with nostalgia, drawing strength and inspiration from the cherished memories of her first date with her childhood sweetheart, Edgar, fifty years ago. Gloria opened a well-preserved cedar chest, and the air filled with the warm scent of dried potpourri and aged fabric. Reaching inside the cedar chest, which she affectionately called her memory box, she pulled out a small packet cradled in tissue paper, which was a framed photo of Edgar and herself. How young we were, she thought to herself. a gentle smile spreading across her lips. We were just teenagers, not thinking about the future, just in the moment. In the photo, they stood outside the very same diner illuminated by the buzzing neon sign. Edgar's arm was casually slung around Gloria's shoulder, both beaming with the carefree optimism of youth captured forever in that single perfect frame. She ran her thumb over the glass, smiling ear to ear. thinking to herself, our teenage romance had grown into a lifelong promise. She carefully placed the photo back among her keepsakes. Next to the photo was a bouquet of yellow roses, the very first Edgar had ever given to her. Over the years, she had dried the flowers and wrapped them in tissue paper, preserving not just the petals, but the sweet, tentative promise of that day. Under the flowers was her first date outfit: a pair of flared denim jeans and a form-fitting peasant blouse adorned with delicate embroidery, accompanied by a wide woven belt and wedge sandals. Each piece whispered stories of hope and new beginnings. These preserved memories, tucked away and cherished, were the physical touchstones of a love story that had lasted half a century. Gloria delicately folded her cherished outfit and carefully placed it back in the cedar chest along with the yellow roses and precious photo. The rich aromatic scent of the wood filled the air as she closed the lid, sealing away these tangible tokens of their enduring bond until their fiftieth wedding anniversary. A day to celebrate the lifetime of happiness that began with a simple date and ended with ice cream and a song. Gloria walked to the window, watching the sunset paint the sky in hues of orange and yellow. The song "You are the sunshine of my life "drifted into her mind. Their story has not ended. It has simply settled into a comfortable, cherished history, a beautiful life built on the foundation of a first date a shared song and a promise of tomorrow She is full of anticipation as she prepares for a special anniversary celebration.

This story unfolds in a desolate stretch of the desert, where the remnants of an abandoned mining town from the Old West lie in quiet decay. Once a bustling settlement, it now stands forgotten, its population having departed when the mines ran dry, leaving behind nothing but echoes of the past. Dilapidated buildings, their paint peeling and structures crumbling, litter the ghost town landscape. 

One of the most romantic ways to start a love story is through traditional letters between pen pals. But suddenly when it's between a college graduate and a prisoner, it's questionable?