Free Reads

Title: Scumbag Billionaire

Author: Harper Kingsley

Story Landing Page: https://kimichee.com/novel-scumbag-billionaire

CHAPTER ONE

There’s so much water.

It’s everywhere.

Salty and terrible.

Almost worst than the blazing heat of the sun. The light so bright and encompassing. Burning away his skin one reddened layer at a time until he wondered when he would be left as nothing more than bones.

Floating forever on the ocean. Or withered down and swallowed by the waves.

His mouth was so dry. Surrounded on all sides by water, but so thirsty his lips stuck to his teeth and his tongue felt too big for his mouth.

He was dying. He knew it and couldn’t stop it.

His death was an inevitability at this point. So far from the shore that land was nothing more than a half-remembered dream to his sun burned mind.

This was the end of him.

These were the last moments of his life.

And thinking back… he felt regret for all the time he’d wasted. Enjoying his moments but not treasuring his hours. This was all he had left.

Floating far from shore. So thirsty he couldn’t feel hungry. So hot that all he knew was burning misery.

These were his lasts moments.

Floating lost. Hopeless. Knowing he wasn’t going to be found.

TBC…

So, I’m working on my project now. This is one of the prompts and prompt-fills that I’ve got so far.

52. After being seduced by a demon, a telepath ordered a birthday cake.

Being a telepath meant having a clear sense of self.

The breaks in his mind were clear. The fractures and replacement of things he hadn’t otherwise noticed the loss of were glaring in their obviousness.

The demon had woven itself throughout his mind.

It choked the idea of telling anyone out of his mind before he could speak the words.

He suffered in pleasure. Experienced physical and metaphysical pleasures the like of which he’d never imagined.

7 months later, on his mother’s birthday, he went to pick up the cake he’d ordered the week before.

The demon had metaphorically hung over his shoulder while he spoke on the phone, but he’d been relieved it hadn’t made him change the order. It seemed like proof that his theory was right: the demon couldn’t hear his thoughts. It only controlled his physical actions (his physical being).

While it had kept him from telling anyone about its presence either vocally or telepathically, it had been through physical means.

It knew his first impulse would be to tell someone of its presence. So it flooded his body with hormones. Locked his bones in place. Froze his vocal cords. All through physical puppetry of his body.

His mind was his own, when he could get it to work. The haze of hormonal pleasure made it very hard to concentrate. To even want to concentrate.

But there were some things too important to be ignored.

He was glad that his brother was there to meet him at the bakery. Joseph had walked from work and had his uniform polo slung over his shoulder. … Read the rest “Prompt 52: After being seduced by a demon, a telepath ordered a birthday cake #HarperWCK”

Title: The Realness of Things

Author: Harper Kingsley
Description: A man that’s afraid of the doll in his house.

It watched him from its perch in the corner. That fucking doll.

He hated it because he feared it. Such a stupid, childish fear.

He hated that it was able to eat away at him, draining the energy from his bones with each moment that he knew it was there. Watching him. Waiting in the dark for him to fall asleep. Planning during the day when he was away.

The thought of it moving around the house when he was gone made him tense all through the workday. It was the dark circles that grew beneath his eyes that had him ordering surveillance cameras. He had them sent to the office.

Innocuous-looking items he was able to arrange around the house as though he’d simply gone on a store closeout shopping spree. He mixed in non-surveillance ornaments he’d purchased to get the garishly bright shopping bag he’d carried the cameras in. He’d made sure the doll could see the name of the popular shop on the bag.

Every day at work, he would call up the camera feed from his house on his tablet. He’d set it up on its stand within his line of sight and it would comfort him to see the doll perched in its corner.

He hated the doll because he feared the doll. Because his only comfort was looking at that screen and knowing the doll was still there. Because he spent every night with the curtains drawn tight around his bed and his ears tuned for the tinkle of the "decorative" bells he’d sewn all around the hem.

He hated the doll. He feared the doll. His every moment and every thought had become … Read the rest “SHORT FIC: The Realness of Things #HarperWCK”

Find the masterlist here => https://www.kimichee.com/masterlist-paradigm-shift-part-2/<=

Dylan felt a bit of pity for the foolish boy but it was overshadowed by his anger. There was a reason he was having no real part of Micah’s case. Others would be assigned to unknot the mess that had been made.

He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. He pitied Micah Figworth, but there was nothing he could do for him. The boy had committed the sin the Inquisition would seek answers for. The case was out of his hands.

There was the insistent 5-note beep of a timer alarm. He tapped his ear, finger unerringly finding the implanted mic button. “Magister Park,” he said. “End timer sequence. Order the aircar be brought around.”

There was the familiar acknowledgement sequence of notes. He could feel the sound vibrating along his jawbone and up into his skull. It had taken him time to become used to the shivery feel of it. Now the implant’s use had become a familiar kind of strange.

It helped that the personal AI within the implant was tuned enough to know when to use voice function or not–he preferred not.

Dylan shrugged on his coat, gathered up his briefcase, and left the office. There was a lot he needed to get done before he could return to Gregor’s side.

And how hard had it been, to leave not only the warm comfort of the bed but a gently breathing Gregor?

After writing Gregor a note explaining where he was going, Dylan had reluctantly left him behind.

If he could have, he would have stayed in the bed, but his extended time off was over.

The Project was essential to the safety and protection of the planet. There was an invisible timer counting down to the next … Read the rest “ParaShift 2: 05 (Gregor Tierney/Dylan Park, mm, scifi, a/b/o, mpreg, State Rule) #HarperWCK”

Story Prompt Generator