Share some sleep paralysis horror stories.

The new book is out! Meng Yunhan has been reincarnated back to the time of 'food coupon era', a time when people struggled with food and clothe shortages. But she is not afraid this time around. Equipped with a 'cheat code', she is ready not only to start her own business but also to grab a hold of her stoned-face brother and even support Baozi, her child. Stoned-face brother: "Wife, let's pack up Baozi and leave!" He claims that having a son who is even clingier to his wife than himself is utterly shameless! "Mommy, let's get a new daddy!" Baozi suggests. His daddy, a grown man, is still so clingy to mommy. How disgraceful! Meng Yunhan sighs: They are indeed father and son.

"My pants are already off. Stopping now would be a bit redundant, don't you think?" Everyone knew the cool, aristocratic Chairman Li was sick, but only Rong Yan knew the man was problematic and sick in the head. That day, she was accosted at the bedroom entrance. Long arms held her against her will as the man leaned into her ear and whispered, "Marry me." Rong Yan struggled to no avail. Frustrated, she said, "I have a boyfriend of five years." "You mean my son is your boyfriend?" For her baby boy, she was willing to secretly marry this billionaire chairman. From then on, he held the knife for her kills, and poured the gasoline as she set fires. Everyone knew the chairman was possessive and paranoid—and Rong Yan was his bottom line. The five-year-old Li Duidui was at a loss. When Daddy and Mommy fought, was he supposed to help clear up the misunderstanding or close the door on them...

Interviewer: "Immortal Zhou Li, could you tell us why you created the orthodox methods and forged the twelve righteous paths, condensing twelve talismans to resolve ancient and modern disputes?" "Just to liven things up." Interviewer: "Well, I mean, did you reorganize the Great Ming Dynasty and plant the Seven Immortal Gourds based on the laws of myriad spirits, brewing the Spring of Spirit Qi for the glory of mankind or...?" "Just to really liven things up." Interviewer: "No, Immortal Zhou Li, I feel that you've done so much for humanity, for the Immortal Realm, and for Da Ming. Your purpose and starting point should be a bit more noble, such as...?" "Enough already, can't you see? I just wanted to bring some entertainment to the spiritually impoverished Great Ming Dynasty and everyone in the Cultivation World. Here, let's liven things up for everyone." The white-robed immortal pointed a finger, and alongside him, a chaotic and ferocious Ancient God swung indescribable and bizarre tendrils. Then, with a surge forward followed by a backflip, it landed stylishly, all the while muttering the delirious ramblings of an Ancient God. 【Damn, let's go, ignore it!】 "No fun? Who would cultivate without any fun?"

It all began with a poor orphan who would work every day for long hours to pay for his Aunt's medical bills. When his life begins to fall apart and he is homeless sleeping in an alleyway he hears a robotic voice. {Do you wish to integrate with the Dungeon System} "Yes" he answers, without much to lose. And from then his life had never been the same. He was taken into a dungeon each night to hunt and he began to realise just how little he really knew about the world that was much wider than he thought. Discord Server: https://discord.gg/TtnGfdKanr Note: I do not own cover art

Song Yu, an up and coming architect was supposed to be the fiancée to the second son of the Qi Family... until her family went bankrupt. The engagement was called off and she finally has the freedom to love whoever she wants to! Years later, a twist of fate made her cross paths with the Qi family again. In order to land a prestigious architect role in an upcoming hotel construction project, she had to impress the director of Qilin. Follow Song Yu as she navigates through life and love!

This is a story of a guy who loses everything, and then gets it back. Same old new world story, just a different kind of story teller. *** They took away our hunter tags. They had us grow our hair. They gave us a new brand, when we were over there. They staged us out of Dragur, East of the Olim Horn. I guess they call us Slaves, but no one calls us much anymore. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. Karn brought Sorrow. Pookie brought Fear. Milk brought the fly boys. They did work in Undia. I worked mostly clandestine. Some Legends I should not say. We played with better wands. I could use the extra pay. Did Mara give the order? Did venom pay the way? They said we were slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. This was before HALO, and Codex was king. Hej atop the rider, he never felt a thing. When our rider caught a spell, and both the mages killed. It pitched us over sideways on some cold Sylph hill. My back felt like it was broken, my legs I could not feel. I kept on slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I never did heal up right from injuries sustained Officially in Torin, unofficially we train. I remember all their faces. They dream about me still. I guess I'm slaying demons, but it's kind of hard to tell. There no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I speak the cold logistic, that old boys speak so well. Veni, Vedi, Vici. I'll see you in Hel. Maybe it's bravado, or an unspeakable guilt. That village, they were demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't wanna to do it anymore. I've done plenty. What is one more? -Corb Lund *** Come guess me this riddle. What beats shire leaves and fiddle? What is hotter than pleasures touch, and whiter than cream? What best wets his whistle? What is clearer than crystal? What is sweeter than honey and stronger than steam? What will make the lame walk? What will make the dumb talk? What is the elixir of life and philosopher's stone? And what helped Pookie-Baba dig up a tunnel, that runs from Shalamanda to West-Torin? When you are digging a crater, It is the best thing in nature, for sinking your sorrows and raising your joys. Sometimes I wonder, if lightning and thunder, is made out of the plunder, of the reddest hiski and oils. *** If you can keep your head when all about you, are losing theirs and blaming it on you. If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too. If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise. If you can dream, and not make dreams your master. If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim. If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two impostors just the same. If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken, twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, and stoop and build them up with worn-out tools. If you can make one heap of all your winnings, and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss and lose, and start again at your beginnings, and never breathe a word about your loss. If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew, to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you; Except the Will which says to them ‘Hold on!’ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, nor walk with Kings, nor lose the common touch. If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you. If all men count with you, but none too much. If you can fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds worth of distance, run. Yours is the World and everything that’s in it, and which is more you’ll be a Man, my son. - Rudyard Kipling