Romantic Short Stories: Just Say Yes!

Hello, Friends! Well, I couldn’t keep myself from writing romantic short stories. Last week, I wrote two short stories. One for a contest entry and one for you. So, here’s your treat:

Title: Just Say Yes!

Tia Shumosky had a lustful eye for Belmont Girls High School’s Football Team coach.

The long-legged curved-abs Darcy was each girl’s eye candy. And, Tia knew it. Though she never devoured Darcy’s sex appeal, his curious glances on her during the middle of the practice sessions often raced her heartbeat.

Tia was not a shy girl. Bold and confident, she was the vice captain of her football team.

The only thing that stopped Tia from approaching Darcy was their age gap. Tia was a young 16-year-old teenager while Darcy was in his late twenties, perhaps pushing to thirties, single Dad.

Though their age gap never bothered Tia, she always remained apprehensive about Darcy’s thinking process. Besides that, Mrs. Bennett, the divorced Psychology professor who always buzzed around Darcy, also served as a major obstacle in flourishing something more than just a pupil-trainer thing between Tia and Darcy.

Tia wiped a hand over her sweaty brow, stuffed her towel in her sports bag, and tightened her shoelaces.

It’s now or never. I will ask him today.

She sipped water from her tumbler, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and headed where Darcy was relaxing after an adrenaline pumping football session.

“How are you, Mr. Darcy?”

He gazed at her, his eyes crinkling under the beaming sun. “Ms. Shumosky. You’re still here? Don’t have classes today?”

“Yeah… I was… kind of…”

He smiled as he sensed the shakiness of her voice. “Yeah, you were… kind of… what Ms. Shumosky.”

Oh, come on Tia. Ask him. It’s now or never.

“Actually, as you know, today was the last day of our football practice session. From tomorrow onwards, exams are starting and then holidays…”

“Yeah… so… that happens every year. Nothing new in that Ms. Shumosky.”

“Actually, Mr. Darcy I was thinking if I can… I mean if you can take me… I mean if we can go out somewhere. I don’t know when I see you next.”

He smiled as he rolled up the white socks on his firm calves “Next year Ms. Shumosky. We’ll meet at the start of the next sports session.”

She muttered under her breath. “If you know I’m graduating this year.”

“Oh… I see.”

His narrow eyes landed on Tia, and her heart skipped a beat. “Do you wanna go on a date with me before your graduation?”

“Kind of… only if you want.”

He rubbed a hand over his chiseled jaw and smiled. “Why don’t you come home, and I’ll cook something for you…”

“Oh, that’s great Mr. Darcy.” Her heart raced as butterflies fluttered harder in her belly.

“Cool. So, today in the evening. Dinner time? Will that be fine with you?”

She bubbled with a wide grin. “Perfect… I’ll be there at six.”

“Sure… see you in the evening.”

***

“Maggie she’s your new ballet teacher?”

Darcy smiled as he introduced his 5-year-old daughter to Tia.

“I’m sorry Tia I was trying to ask you this for a long time. It would be great if you can teach ballet to Maggie. I hope you won’t mind that.”

A mixture of nervousness and excitement washed over her.

Wow…. I hit the jackpot.

“No… not at all Mr. Darcy. I would love to. It would be great if I can help her learn to dance. She’s so young. This is the perfect time for a start.”

Tia was on cloud nine when Darcy and Maggie both dropped her home after dinner.

She couldn’t realize that even Darcy wanted to see her every day. Ballet was just an excuse. He wanted Tia to spend time with his daughter so they got to know each other and who knew this could lay a foundation of a new relationship between Tia and Darcy. Something more than just a pupil-trainer thing.

***End***

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You can even download some of my FREE short romantic stories – Here

Romantic Short Stories: Primal Desires

Hi, Friends!. Love You All. I hope you enjoyed your weekend and now looking forward to a new week. How about starting the new week by reading some romantic short stories. This week’s love short deals with the complex emotion of Lust. Perhaps Love. Perhaps both. You decide 🙂

Title: Primal Desires

“Are you nuts?” Shikha pushed all the stray hairs off her face back into a tight bun. “No way, he’s going to stay with us. Not when you’ll be not home.” She then looked away, glancing at the fresh lilies blooming in the green lawns of their house.

“He’s my childhood buddy. I can’t say no. It’s just a matter of a few days. Once the paperwork is done, he will be off.”

“Can’t you cancel your trip or can’t you book a hotel room for him?”

“Try to understand babes. Raghav is not just a friend. He’s much more than that.”

“I know. He was your emotional support pillar, but things are different now.” She arched her eyebrows as she flipped through the pages of the women’s magazine. “Fine. If you can’t understand, let’s get this straight—I’m not going to stay with a stranger especially when my husband is away.”

“Please sweetheart. I really need this favor from you. Raghav is a cool guy, and he’s not a stranger. You have seen his photographs and even talked to him. Remember, when he called me on the wedding night.” Vikas crawled closer to her  on the couch.

“Yeah, I remember, but that was just a formal call. He just congratulated us. That’s all. The truth is that I don’t know him. I mean if he’s going to stay with me, he will definitely eat, sleep, and do all the things that he does.”

“Of course. How can you stop the person of not doing his daily activities of living?” Vikas cocked a brow.

“So, what does he eat?”

“He’s not that picky. Anything with chicken will do. I will fill the refrigerator with an extra supply of chicken and beer for you two.”

Vikas’ gentle persuasion was flawless, and he finally succeeded in melting the ice of Shikha’s heart. She agreed to let Vikas’ childhood friend Raghav stay at their house for a week while Vikas was off to the US.

***

“Coming…” The doorbell ranged the third time. Shikha ran to the door, wrapping her wet hair in a towel.

“I’m sorry…was in the shower…Please come in,” she said, her faint smile vanishing. Her eyes fixed on a 6 feet tall hunk, an owner of a sculpted body that he hid underneath a white creased shirt and khaki pants, standing next to Vikas.

Raghav never looked that sexy in the snaps. Perhaps, that were the entire old ones I saw. He’s a grown up man now. A man with bulging biceps and tattoos. No wonder why he didn’t marry until now. Perhaps, he is a player. A man who always plays with women takes them to his bed but never gets involved in a relationship.

Anyways, who the fuck cares. He’s not going to stay here for any longer. It’s just a matter of seven days. All I need is to feed him good food, take him around the city, talk to him politely while he finishes his work in the town, and finally leaves the house.

Shikha assured herself that Raghav’s visit was not going to make any difference to her life as she arranged the table for lunch. However, she couldn’t stop herself looking at Raghav, devouring his intoxicating appeal.

That evening, Vikas left for the US leaving his wife alone in the company of his old childhood friend for a complete one week.

***

One evening…

“So what do you do?”

“Me. nothing. Just cooking, sleeping, watching TV that’s all.”

“You don’t have any hobby?”

“I never thought about it.”

“Never thought about it?” He chuckled. The sound of his snicker sent shivers of excitement all through her spine. And, boy, those vivid brown eyes, sexy enough to disturb all the sleeping butterflies in her stomach.

“I mean…Yeah…I used to make soft toys for kids when I was young. I mean it was long before getting married.”

“For kids?”

“For kids of the maids who would work in our society.”

“I see, and you used to gift them?”

“Yeah. Right.”

“That’s pretty adorable. I mean who the damn cares about these things.” His lips set in a grim line as he looked down the carpet of the living room. The air was heavy. There was this constant sound of raindrops falling on the tin roofing of the backyard. He looked sad, vulnerable, almost on the edge of shedding tears.

Vikas told her that Raghav was the son of a woman who used to work as a housemaid in their palatial residence. It was Vikas’s parents who helped Raghav’s mom to get him educated.

For a moment, she thought of going close to him and putting her hand on his, but she restrained. Restrained her from looking at him. Teardrops slid from the corner of her eyes. She couldn’t understand why she felt that way. A few days with this man and her world had changed. She never felt the intense magnetism towards any man she felt for Raghav.

“What do you do?” She broke the ensuing stillness of the rainy evening.

“I make sculptures?”

“Sculptures? You’re a sculptor?”

“Yeah…You guessed it right.”

“Interesting. So what do you sculpt?”

“Anything. I mean anything that fascinates me.”

“And, things that don’t fascinate you. Do you still sculpt them?”

“It depends. If I have to do it for a client. I once sculpted a fat businessman with fairly big mustaches, and I got sixty thousand bucks for that.”

“OK. Deal. You will make my sculpture, and because I’m not that fascinating, I’ll pay you for that.” She smiled.

“Who says you’re not fascinating?” He chortled.

His words electrified Shikha’s entire being. Hot desires grew from inside, making her cheeks blush. She cast her eyes downward, no words escaping from her mouth.

***

“Can’t you sit still…I’m shaping the features. And, please brush that hair away from your face.” Raghav’s voice was soft yet commanding enough to make Shikha’s heart race.

“No, no, not that…Oh, okay, just let me do it for you.”

As he came close, his body warmth floated around her. The brush of his fingers, all clay on them, on his forehead, and a shiver ran down her spine. Butterflies fluttered harder. Almost ready to tear her stomach. Her heart thumped even harder making it difficult for her to breathe. A choking feeling couldn’t let her inhale oxygen. All, she could inhale was the musky fragrance of his cologne as he stood just an inch away from her. His broad chest exposed in a blue vest, sweat drops traveling from his temple to his Adam’s apples before touching down the chisels of his gorgeous chest.

Oh! God! I want to breathe, and this man is not letting me do that. I will die if he doesn’t go away in another 10 seconds.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” She pushed Raghav in his chest and scurried past him, darting out of the outhouse.

Romantic Short Stories: Primal Desires, www.mariyamhasnain.com

“What’s wrong with you? It’s half done. Just a matter of few more hours.”

“I can’t sit still for that long. It’s okay. Just leave me alone. Just go.”

She could sense his presence behind her.

“Can’t sit for long or you can’t have me near you?”

His words pounded her heart, shattering it into pieces with each piece saying – yes you’re the one I ever longed for.

“Why are you here? Finish your damn paperwork and leave. Please go away.” She smoldered as she wiped her tears.

“Shikha…”

His low husky voice. Her name on his tongue worked like an aphrodisiac, igniting the fire more intense than ever before.

“Are you falling for me?”

She didn’t reply, tears making her vision blurry, her heart sinking, her lungs laboring for air.

“Aw, shucks, I can’t believe this.”

With that, he turned his back. And the next moment, he was gone out of her room.

20 minutes passed by

Perhaps, 30

Probably, an hour

“Raghav…” She cried like a kid as she searched for him everywhere in the house.

“Raghav. Where are you?”

“I’m here.” He came out of the guestroom, hauling his suitcase behind him.

“You can’t go away. Can’t leave me like this.”

“What do you want from me?” He came closer and looked in her eyes. “It’s lust Shikha, nothing else.”

“It’s not lust. If it were, I would not have wept that night when I saw tears in your eyes. Your presence, your nearness, your touch bring a hurricane of feelings. Feeling unknown to me. Feelings I’ve never had before. Feelings I want to melt into, fade into, dissolve into finishing my entire being. Being with you is like putting me on fire and asking you to leave is like letting that fire burn me.”

“You’re my friend’s wife Shikha, and I can’t break that trust. You understand. I can’t break that trust.” His grip hardened on her shoulders as he tried not to reveal his vulnerable side. The side he kept hidden from her, feelings that were burning him too, inside out.

“Don’t hurt me if you can’t love me.” She shoved his hands off her shoulders and turned around. “You should be gone when I come out.” And, she rushed to her bedroom, not wanting to see him leave.

Again, she could sense him standing behind her. His hand on her waist made its way under her shirt, pleasure bubbles forming inside her skin. His touch on her flat belly sparked thousands of volts of electric current. She closed her eyes to dissolve, to melt, to finish in the heat that dissipated from his body. Her head tilted backward, her lips parting in anticipation.

The touch of their lips kindled a fire. A fire that ignited both the bodies. Flames ready to burn them alive, turn them into ashes, a heap of slag, had they not extinguished them, doused them, smothered them succumbing to their primal desires. Love, Lust, Whatever.

***

Did you like what you read? If you did, don’t forget to share.

Want to know more about short love stories to read online for free go to Wattpad. You can even download some of my FREE short romantic stories – Here

~MH

Romantic Short Stories: A Flight of Stairs

Howdy Friends! It’s Monday and I’m here with yet another love flash from my hidden treasure of romantic short stories.

Title: A Flight of Stairs

With that last tattoo, of a dragon, done on my forearm, I was all set for my first-ever concert as a singing pop star of the town. My long-cherished dream would come true. Never in my whole life, had I missed a single night when I didn’t dream of singing in front of a huge crowd of fans.

And, I nailed it. My latest album hit the top 10 Asian-American songs of the month. Though I was no stranger to facing the media glare, performing in front of a live audience gave me goose bumps just like we get before exams or job interviews.

I was running late, so I scrambled towards the elevator, got inside, and touched the 0 button.

“Shit.”

In haste, I couldn’t work out that the lift was going upstairs. A couple minutes of ride from 5th floor to 27th floor seemed like an irritating, never-ending journey. A journey that takes you away from your destination.

The elevator reached the top floor, and a man entered inside. Worried about reaching the concert venue on time, I threw an irritating stare towards him.

Cleanly shaven with a tangle of wayward brown curls pushed back on his head, he either took a decent amount of time to set his hair or got out of the bed without even brushing a hand on his head. Whatever it was, he looked damn gorgeous in a black suit that hugged his broad-shouldered tall frame perfectly.

A little distraction seemed like a flight to heaven, and I enjoyed the ride downstairs with the man who took my breath away.

His cologne tantalized my senses and filled my brain with all the naughty thoughts.

What if I was marooned on an island with this handsome stranger? How about getting stuck in this elevator with this gorgeous man?

Hey, relax Ritika. You’ve to perform in a couple of minutes.

Restraining my thoughts, I stopped ogling him and fixed my stare to the floor of the elevator.

I took a deep breath to stop the flickering butterflies flocking hard against my ribs and closed my eyes to slow down my thumping heartbeat.

Darkness.

Yeah, it’s good. I’m feeling much better.

With that, I open my eyes.

Have I opened my eyes?

Holy shit!

I never thought the wish I made two seconds ago would become true.

Yes, we had got stuck in the elevator.

“Oh! No.” A deep cry escaped my throat.

“Are you in a hurry Miss?” His commanding voice filled the stranded elevator.

Irritation and anger replaced the burning desires.

“It’s because of you, I’m in this situation.”

“I’m sorry? Because of me?”

“Have you not pressed the button, I would have reached the ground earlier.”

“If you were going downstairs why did you catch it at first place?”

“Oh! Please. Don’t you argue with me like an attorney?”

“What, if I’m the one?” He chortled.

Romantic Short Stories: A Flight of Stairs

“Aw! Shucks. I hate lawyers and never in my wildest dreams I thought I would get stuck in the elevator with a conservative attorney?” I bit my lips in frustration.

“Conservative attorney?” His eyes gleamed like two shiny marbles in the thin light of his smartphone. A brief smirk tugged the corners of his lips, flaunting a set of deep dimples as he looked me in the eyes.

“So what do you do?” His gaze smoothly shifted from my face to my exposed skin covered with tattoos of insects, birds, and animals.

“I’m a rock star.”

Before he could make any assumptions about my character or behavior, I proudly introduced myself.

“Rockstar? The one who sings and dances maniacally.”

“Excuse me, Mister.” Heat escalated through me, and I knew, all of it was not anger.

“Oh…I’m sorry.” He smirked again. But, this time there was something in his eyes that made me blush.

He came close and stood across from me. His hand roamed through my narrow waist as he pulled me close.

Anticipating his next move, I closed my eyes and my head tilted backward, almost instantaneously.

A brush of his lips at the corner of my mouth and the stranded elevator breathed to life. It got illuminated and started moving down. He released me from his grip, and we occupied opposite corners.

Mute.

Embarrassed.

Restless.

Within minutes, we reached the ground. Coming out of the lift, he escorted me till my waiting cab, the concert organizers arranged for me.

“I think I need to see you again. How about a dinner? Tonight at eight?”

“That’s cool.” I readily agreed. “Why don’t you come with me now?”

“Umm…Let me reschedule the meeting I have with my clients, and I will follow you in my car.” He chuckled as he touched some buttons on his smartphone before putting it closer to his ear.

****

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Want to download some of my FREE romantic short stories – Click Here

~MH

Camouflage: A Romance Set in the City of Bangkok

Happy Monday Folks. Guess what. Today, I’m sharing with you a tiny excerpt from my novel Camouflage.

Setting: Thailand

Cast and Characters: Asian and American

Genre: Umm, Not sure

OK, I’m not able to decide the genre of the book as it stretches from being a romantic suspense to a psychological thriller. But, one thing I can assure you, that if you love reading romance books with lots and lots of intrigue, suspense, twists, thrills, and cliffhangers, this book is for you.

Warning #1: It’s a fast-paced romance with action happening at each paragraph. Don’t blame me if it keeps you biting your nails and at the edge of your seat all the time.

Warning #2: The book has adult content and strong language. 18+

See what reviewers are saying about Camouflage

“A great combination of love and intrigue. Highly recommended to fans of romantic suspense.” ~ Annie Arcane, author of Hartbroken Series

“I’ll just say that this unusual little novel captivated me and kept me up half the night reading.” ~ Page LaRue

“Everything about this book was a page turner.” ~ J. Saman, author of Start Again series

“Hasnain weaves a complex mystery with many layers to peel away as you go. I would recommend this book to those who enjoy a good mystery with a splash of romance to spice things up.” ~ Melissa Copeland, author of Solitary

An Excerpt from Camouflage

Camouflage, www.mariyamhasnain.comI longed for her touch, her kiss, her affection and found myself slipping into a state from which I never recovered.

My heart ached as I realized Sheina was miles away from me. I never believed in love, and now I couldn’t stop myself falling in love. For a moment, I forgot all the physical trauma and mental conflicts and savored the feel of falling for a girl whom I’d known for only a couple of months.

It was nothing more than just a physical attraction and I never acknowledged her growing affection towards me. She was always there even when I behaved rudely and ignored her.

I felt ashamed and apologetic for not treating her the way she deserved to be.

“You are my princess, darling though I’m not a prince,” I mumbled under my breath.

What’s this happening to me? Why I’m feeling so drawn to her? How can I be mentally unstable and physically frail but still feeling so healthy and energetic?

Is this what is called love? If it is I’m in love. I’m in love with Sheina. I can’t imagine my life without her. I miss you Sheina, please come back to me.

Playing my favorite song – Patience from Guns’ n Roses – Shed a tear ’cause I’m missin’ you, on my cell phone, I wallowed in that sweet pain that I’d been experiencing since she had left me alone in the tranquility of her living room.

I need to tell her how much I love her, let her come and I’ll never let her go. I’ll enclose her in my arms forever and ever till the end of this world.

I groggily walked up to the closet. An M-shaped gold pendant, secured neatly through the pins onto the red velvety floor of the jewelry box, shone brightly.

This is the only lifeless object in this entire world that I can never buy, and now I want to give it to Sheina, the woman I love the most after my mom. She is the one who deserves my mom’s keepsake.

I came back to the recliner and allowed my memories to flow freely. As I put my ear buds on, relaxing on the recliner, old reminiscences flooded my mind.

It was a usual day for me. Glaring the cursor for an hour or so, I was about to type the first sentence when the penetrating sound of the doorbell hampered the flow of creative juices.

 “Who the heck has come now?” I felt irritated but managed to walk down the stairs to get the door.

A Thai girl in her early twenties was standing on the doorstep. My anger and irritation faded away seeing the pretty face at my door. For a moment, I found myself lost in her distinct Siamese charms. She was smiling vibrantly displaying the spontaneity of her personality.

“Hi! I’m Sheina. I’ve moved next door. Sorry to bother you but my bathroom shower knob has got jammed. I’ve called the community plumber, but I think they’d take some time. I’ve to report to work in an hour and I was wondering if you could help me out?” She maintained eye contact with me.

An expression of nervousness on her cute, typically Asian face and the requesting glint in her slanting eyes compelled me to go with her.

“This way please.” She led me to her flat. There were heavy cartons of goods and packed furniture pieces lying on the tiled flooring of the tiny living room.

We made our way to the shower room. I tried to rotate the shower knob, but it didn’t move.

“Have you got a wrench?” I asked her.

“Oh…I’m afraid I don’t,” she replied.

“Fine, I’ll get mine.” I reached my flat and quickly located the wrench in the tool box.

A slight pressure on the wrench rotated the knob, and it started working. Drizzles of cold water started pouring on my T-shirt, and I stepped aside to avoid the droplets of water.

“Oh! It started working.” She smiled jubilantly.

I came out of the bathroom.

“Thank you so much, Mr…I didn’t ask your name.”

“Mark, Mark Statler,” I replied, walking in between the scattered cartons of packed goods.

“Thanks again Mark, see you in the evening.” Hearing my name in her sensuously soft and soothing voice compelled me to look back, and I gazed at her prettiness wearing a goodbye smile on my face.

After that, she started dropping in every now and again, most of the time in need of something, and I helped her readily, unaware that one day I would succumb to her Thai charms and would yearn for her just like the parched sands of the dessert yearn for rain.

We started spending quality time with each other. I cherished her company, and we struck the chord pretty well talking about our hobbies and interests, during which I got a chance to know more about her.

She had a deep passion for helping the orphans and that was the only reason she moved from SuanPhueng to Bangkok when she got an offer to work as a coordinator at the MalaiDek Orphanage located in the Phaya Thai district.

The charity organization had provided shelter, food, and education to more than thirteen-thousand kids from various districts of Thailand, most of them had lost their parents to the deadly hands of AIDS than to any other cause of death. Sheina was involved with the fund-raising event management program.

 I was pleasantly surprised to find a friend in Sheina, one who shared her passion for helping the poor and needy with me. We were not polls apart, but our characteristics and natures were almost opposite, and I believed that’s what I liked most about her.

Want to read more, download Free sample chapters of Camouflage

Happy Reading!

~MH

Second Chances in Love – My Work In Progress, A Sneak Peak

Do you like reading Second Chances in Love. If yes, my next book is for you.

I have just written the first chapter, and sharing it with you. However, it’s not a complete chapter, but a tiny excerpt.

Hope you like it. The book is yet not titled, so I’m not writing the title here.

Untitled (Work In Progress)

Self-pride washed over me as I stood in front of the Shanbagh Palace. The magnificent building boasted months of hard work and labor me and my team put in renovating the old monument, and now it was ready to host its first wedding.

I bought Shanbagh two months after returning to my hometown of Awadh from Mumbai where I studied and worked in an IT Firm. Scars of failed relationship would have broken me apart had I not known of my pregnancy.

“Momma, we’re getting late for school.” Pari’s thin voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah, I’m coming dear.” I wiped my eyes and descended the porch stairs to reach my baby doll.

Dropping my daughter school and then coming back to Shanbagh to carry out renovation activities had been my routine for the past one year. No ifs and buts. But, that day was different because Shanbagh was going to host its first wedding after facing decades of neglect and abandonment.

If everything goes by the plan, the old harbor will regain its glory while we can have a dependable source of income.

I didn’t buy Shanbagh just to convert it into a wedding house but because of the connection, I felt with the old harbor. The strength and positivity the massive building reflected had carved an everlasting impression. I used to visit the ancient house of the Nawabs of Awadh during my childhood and teen years. One of my aunts married a Nawab, and they used to live there. They had a large family of brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, nieces, and nephews.

My summers were always full of activities, playing in the green lush lawns of the palace with kids of my age, sons and daughters of my aunt’s extended family.

Years passed. The old ones died. The young ones migrated to big cities. And, the building grew old with no one to take care of the ancient memories. Memories that filled the rustic air of the Shanbagh Palace.

I walked out of my office to reach the green lawns of the building where folks were busy decorating the altar. Several white-clothed golden ribbon chairs graced the front garden, morning sun beaming over the dewy petals of bushes and shrub.

Second Chances in Love: A Sneak Peak of My Work In Progress, www.mariyamhasnain.comEverything’s so green and fresh.

Hey, what’s this? I felt the feathery sensation on my open toe ballerinas only to find a white furry cat purring next to me on the ground.

“Oh! Baby.” I picked up the cute cat and caressed her in my arms.

“Maggie.” A thick voice echoed in the fragrant morning air, and the cat jumped out of my lap and ran down the walkway.

“Hey stop! Stop there! It’s not safe.” The poor cat was going to touch the electric circuit when I grabbed her but lost my balance in saving the cat’s life. A generous splatter of water, and the next moment I was in the water pond.

“Can I help you.” A deep voice again hit my senses bringing me back to present. A strong hand stretched for me. I looked up. The owner of the hand had the same set of light brown eyes.

“How are you?” He asked as he pulled me out of the water.

“How come you are here?” My voice shook. I avoided his stare on my wet clothes clinging to the curves of my body.

“I should be asking this, shouldn’t I?” The teasing sound of his snickers brought a surge of heat. It was like my cold body had been put on fire. I hated his voice, his eyes, his smile because it reminds me of someone who broke my heart who cheated on me.

“What do you want now?”

“Well, It seems I was misinformed about the palace being renovated into a wedding house. I think I should’ve done my homework before dropping in. Anyways, gotta go now.”

“You aren’t misinformed, Mister. Shanbagh Palace is accepting clients for weddings and other family get-togethers.”

“Is it? Can I meet someone who can provide me with the details.”

“Yeah, of course, please go straight and take left. There’s a front office. You can get the details from there.”

“Thanks, Pink.” As he called me Pink, I couldn’t stop myself looking into his eyes. My heart galloped, it pounded against my chest. It felt as if someone had dug out a deep buried desire within me.

“I need to look out for my cat first. Thanks for saving her.”

“It’s okay.” My voice wobbled in my throat as I collected myself together and turned my back to him.

****End of the Excerpt

Do you think it’s hooking. Do you think you can take a chance on reading further? If yes, I would love your words of appreciations. If not, please tell me where I can improve. I’m open to changes to make the beginning more enticing to my readers.

Please leave your reply in the comment section below.

~MH

Romantic Short Stories: Locked Memories

Howdy Friends! It’s Monday and I’m here with yet another love flash from my hidden treasure of romantic short stories.

This week’s flash is about Love and Forgiveness. Hope you like it.

Title: Locked Memories

The alarm went off at four in the morning, and the doorbell rang.

I groped for my mobile phone on the bedside table and swiped the screen to switch off the alarm.

The deafening sound of the doorbell again penetrated my ears.

“Who could it be?”

I rolled over the bed, put my sleepers, and rose to my feet.

The doorbell rang again.

“Who the hell is this?” I muttered. The hall was dimly lit. A thin beam of light strained out through the cream shade of the night lamp. I staggered to my feet and made my way to the front door of the house and peeked into the eye hole.

It was dark in the porch.

“Who’s this?” I asked. My voice wobbled. I struggled to fight the sudden fear creeping around me.

No answer.

Panic pooled into my gut as I debated with my mind whether to open the door or not.

Instead of fully releasing the door, I used the door chain and peeked out. A whiff of wet soil entered my nostrils. Raindrops pattered on the tin roofing of the dimly lit porch.

Romantic Short Stories: Locked Memories, www.mariyamhasnain.comNothing was visible in the dim light that came from the street lamp except a shadow. A man stood at the entrance, a cowboy hat on his head. He wore an overcoat.

“Who’s this?” I mustered the courage to ask again though couldn’t control the shakiness of my voice.

“It’s me.” A deep husky voice broke the stillness of the rainy morning.

It sounded familiar. I perhaps heard it somewhere, some place. I didn’t know. I couldn’t recall.

Irritation drank all my fear and anxiety. My voice hardened. Angrily, I asked, “Me who? Do you have a name?”

And the shadow walked in front of me. He stood across from me, behind the safety chain.

A bright white light enveloped the darkness as he lit the torch and pointed it towards his face.

“Shawn? Is it you?” Anger, apprehension, hatred all together cluttered my brain seizing my thinking power. My tongue couldn’t form a single word. I went mute, lifeless, a frozen mess of bone and flesh.

“Can you let me in?” His words hit my ears bringing me back to my senses.

“How could you? It’s been ten years.”

“I want you, Diana. I want my life back. I’ve repented a lot on my mistake.”

He kindled the feelings I once had for him. My hand roamed over the lock disengaging the safety chain and pushing the door wider for him.

Did you like what you read? If you did, don’t forget to share.

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~MH

Romantic Short Stories: A Smile To Remember

Another Monday, another love short from my immense pool of short romantic stories.

This week’s short story is inspired from Nicholas Sparks’ famous novel which was also adapted into a movie – A Walk To Remember. Hope you like it.

Title: A Smile To Remember

Her love was like a rose—fragrant and soft.

She was a geek. No fashion sense, no girlie stuff. I sometimes hated her lack of social skills. Even though we studied together since kindergarten, I never cared for her. She tried to talk, but I never got involved even in the small talks she started during our bus rides to school.

It was during the Spring Festival when we came close. We were preparing for the festival, and me and Zoobie were in the same team. I had to visit her house often to prepare for the skit we had to do during the spring fest.

Together, we practiced for the drama. She always wore a green-colored cardigan, to school, at home, and  wherever she went. I and my friends often ridiculed her dressing sense.

As days gone by, I realized I was spending my time more on things that didn’t make any sense. Like making fun of nerdy students whenever they walked past us, doing crazy stuff like betting who could ride the bike with hands up, all kinds of adventure stuff you know.

As I slowly got along with Zoobie, I found out she was the one I always wanted to be with. Calm and composed. She had a positive outlook towards everything.
According to her, everything was possible. Be it getting good grades in
the exams or getting selected in a medical school.

We hung out together, and; I fell in love with her. I still remember the way she blushed when I expressed my love to her. Her  cheeks flushed red with the most vibrant color of pink when she said she loved me too.

We finished school, and I went abroad to study Medicine, leaving Zoobie alone. I never wanted to leave her but couldn’t  gather the courage to say no to my dad—who had Hitler’s genes in his DNA. Just kidding 🙂

I and Zoobie exchanged letters for one year, and  then her letters stopped coming. I called her, and she told me she wanted to go with the wind. She wanted to be free. Free from a long-distanced relationship. Free from me. She wanted to call it quits.

I couldn’t bear the pain of heartbreak and failed my final semester exams. As a result, my Dad summoned me an ultimatum that if I ever wanted to return home, I should have my medical degree with me. I pictured my mom’s helplessness, her dewy eyes when she wished me a goodbye on the airport. I devoted myself to studies.

Though I lost all charms of life after Zoobie dumped me, I loved my mother. I completed the program and returned home after five years with a degree. A piece of paper my father could show to his filthily rich friends.

***

Romantic Short Stories: A Smile To Remember, www.mariyamhasnain.comAs soon as I reached my town, old reminiscences flooded my mind.
Everything reminded me of her. The narrow trails, the vast fields, the
rain, the rainbow sneaking behind the sun.

I reached home. My mom was happy and so was I, but at some corner of my heart, I missed Zoobie.  I missed her fragrant smile, her touch, her lips. I just missed everything about her.

“How’s Zoobie Mom. Is she still here? I mean, has she married.” I stammered as I acted casual on the dinner table.

I saw tears forming in my mom’s eyes. My dad left the table, his food untouched. I couldn’t understand.

“What’s wrong with you guys? Is everything fine.” Apprehension, panic, anxiousness cluttered my brain.

I looked at my mom.

“What’s the matter, mom?”

“She left us.”

“Left us?”

“I’m sorry. We couldn’t tell you about this.”

“About what?”I ran out of my plush residence and sprinted in the direction of Zoobie’s house.

Her house looked the same as before, but there was an emptiness in the
surrounding. The vibrancy, the warmth I used to feel when I visited her house before was missing.

I knocked the door and impatiently waited for the response.

Her father opened the door.

“Oh, Mr. Ahmari. How can I help you?”

“Is Zoobie home?” I asked.

The same expression of grief on his face, but the dew of Mr. Shersi’s eyes was even more prominent than what I saw in my mom’s eyes. He left the door open, turned his back to me, and trudged inside the house.

I entered the house. My eyes darted around. I wanted to see her. See her
smiling at me. The smile that used to be my strength, smile I missed the
most during my stay in London.

“I’m really sorry Sir, but I really want to meet her. Is she there?” I impatiently requested him.

“I understand, but this isn’t her home any longer.”

“Oh. She’s got married. Can I get her number or address? I want to congratulate her. It’s quite a time.”

“Yeah, quite a time. Four years since she left us for her heavenly abode.”

“What?” Someone sucked all blood out of me. “How? I mean what happened to her?”

“She  died of cancer, a peculiar type that didn’t cause any symptoms only mild fevers on and off. I got to know about the disease when the blood investigations came positive for leukemia.”

My feet froze to the ground. Within a fraction of a second, my whole body wilted. I couldn’t stand and drop down on the foray chair.

“That’s why she broke my heart. Oh, God. I couldn’t understand her love.”

****

Did you like what your read? If you did, don’t forget to share.

Want to download some free romantic short stories – Click Here.

~MH

Romantic Short Stories, Week #6, The Road to Salvation

A big Hi! to all my awesome readers. I hope you had a blast over the weekend, and here comes another Monday. Jump start the week with this beautiful love story of lost mates from my immense pool of romantic short stories.

There’s a subtle touch of paranormal in this love short.

Remember Twilight?

This is the first time I’ve written something that’s beyond this world. I hope you like reading this as much as I liked writing.

Week #6

Title: The Road to Salvation

The forest reeked of wet grass and vegetation. Trees swayed in the gusty wind. Norma ran through the woods. She didn’t understand what made her run. All she could remember that she was asleep in her room. And then all of a sudden, someone carried her on his shoulder and laid her on the wet grass.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself gazing at the moonlit sky. She felt frail, each bone of her body asking refuge, pestering her to lie down. The coldness of the dewy grass made her shiver. The wind blew hard. She felt like as if her body was slowly transforming into rock ice, her feet freezing. She pushed herself to a sitting position. Her eyes darted around, early morning sun rays seeping in through the dense foliage.

She stood up and ran until she noticed a lake. The stream glistened under the golden sun. On the edge, there was a boy, with his back to her, teetering on the rough edge of the river like a pendulum swinging freely from a fixed point.

“Hey! Careful lest you’d fall.” A barely audible whisper escaped Norma’s throat.

The boy turned around. A frail smile swam on his dry lips. As Norma neared him, she noticed the boy’s pale skin sparkle with thousands of stars.

“Aren’t you afraid of falling into the freezing water and dying or that was your idea of having water fun?”

“Living without you is like death.”

“What?”

“You don’t remember anything, do you?”

“Who are you?”

“I’m not apart from you. We’re bound together.”

“Don’t trick me. I know there are bullies, on loose, tricking girls to fall prey, but I’m not going to give you a chance.”

She turned around and what’s that – the boy was standing in front of her. She turned around to face the river and again saw the same form.

She couldn’t work out whether it was a mere delusion or reality.

Vague images floated around her head. Voices, she often heard in her dreams, echoed in her ears. Her head ached with the most traumatic kind of pain. She felt herself transitioning back into the past.

Romantic Short Stories, Week #6, The Road to Salvation, www.mariyamhasnain.com“No matter how many bodies your soul inhabits, it will yearn for its mate. You’ll keep on reincarnating until you’re united with me. The path to salvation goes through several cycles of birth and rebirth until the soul achieves its pure self. You’ll never be free from the sufferings neither do I until our souls achieve their goals.”

Norma’s headache subsided. Faint memories flooded her mind, memories of her previous life.

“I can’t bear this pain anymore.” Her eyes glistened as she recalled the traumatic end of their relationship. They had to pay the price of being in love within the same clan. A sin, regarded as incest by the community.

The lightning struck the couple as they united. The whirlwind carried the twin souls to their ultimate abode, leading to the state of being free.

*****End*****

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~MH

Romantic Short Stories, Week #5, It’s Never Too Late

A big Hi to all romance lovers out there. It’s Monday again folks but keep the blues away. Feel romantic, feel inspired with yet another flash from a pool of short romantic stories.

Today’s flash is all about love, loss, and hope.

Week #5

Title: It’s Never Too Late

She would sit on the bench at the bus stop. The same stop from where I used to catch my bus to my workplace, a computer hardware repair shop.

Gracefully dressed in a flowery dress with her burgundy-dyed hair tied in a neat bun, an umbrella in one hand and a book in other, she was waiting for the bus?

No. I could say that because I’d observed her one whole day.

It was Sunday evening. I visited the bus stop out of curiosity to see if she was there or not. And, she was there.

People came and went but she didn’t go anywhere, just kept on sitting there.

The sun played hide and seek with the clouds, and a few moments later it started raining heavily. I couldn’t see her umbrella. Perhaps, she forgot to bring it that day, but, luckily, I had mine.

Crossing the road, I reached the bench. She smiled at me.

“Hello, Miss.” I sat next to her, covering both of us under my umbrella.

“Radha. You can call me by my name.”

I hesitated to call her by name.

“Oh. Don’t mind. This is the problem with this young generation. I have a niece of your age, and she calls me by my name.”

“Oh Okay, Radha. So, How are you?”

“I’m fine young boy. Can’t you see- healthy like a horse.” A toothless grin wrinkled the corners of her eyes.

“Where do you live?” I asked looking at her while she drifted her stare from my face to the rain-swept road. Water droplets played pitter patter on the flimsy tin roofing of the bus stop as the evening crowd thinned and people ran to shelters.

“Just a couple of blocks away, down the road.” She gestured towards the left side.

short romantic stories, www.mariyamhasnain.com“Great. I see you here every day. Aren’t you planning to go somewhere, are you? I probably can help you. I have a bus timetable handy, on my mobile phone. Do you mind sharing me where you want to go, and I can tell you which number bus goes to which place.”

“Oh son, I’m waiting for someone.”

“Waiting for someone? Who and How long you’re going to wait?” I asked looking at the almost deserted road.

“Till the sun down. He promised me he’ll come with the moon.”

“Come with the moon?” I couldn’t understand and shot another question. “Do you wait here every day?”

“Yeah.”

The comforting tone of her voice piqued up my curiosity.

“For how long you’ve been waiting?”

“For the past forty years.” She cleared her throat.

I couldn’t ask anything else. We sat there for a while in silence, gazing at the wet road.

The rain subsided. I requested the old woman to keep my umbrella and promised her that I’ll take it back the next day.

On my way home, inconspicuous thoughts about the old woman and the person she was waiting for clustered my mind.

“Excuse me.”

I heard a male voice, footsteps approaching. I turned around and noticed an old man walking in my direction. He stopped at a hand’s distance from me.

Head covered in a leather flat cap, wearing a raincoat, he smiled looking at me.

“Hello! Young man. Can I walk with you a couple of steps?”

“Oh yeah. Sure, of course.”

For a moment, I hesitated but then started walking along with him.

After talking about inconsequential things like where I live, what I do, he asked, “So, What did Radha told you?”

“You know her?” A thousand volts of electric current hit me like a thunderbolt.

“Yeah. I used to love her. In fact, I still love her.”

“Oh, so she was waiting for you?”

“No.”

“Then?”

“She was waiting for my brother whom she loved, but he cheated on her, married another woman, rich and spoiled, who later cheated on him. They divorced after a few years of their marriage. He regretted cheating on Radha and couldn’t muster the courage to face her. He couldn’t face the reality of life and killed himself by overdosing on his antidepressants a couple of years after his divorce. Coward he.”

“And you? I asked smugly.

“A coward too. I could never express my feelings to her just kept on seeing her from afar.”

“Cowards never confide their weaknesses. Perhaps, you waited for the right time. Perhaps, now is the time.”

“Yes, you’re right. It’s never too late.”

And with that, he turned back and exited the street. I stood there, smiling, hearing his thumping steps of triumph.

*****

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~MH

Romantic Short Stories, Week #4: Time Drain

Happy Monday Fam! Here comes one more flash from a pool of short romantic stories.

Do you often get late to work? Are traffic jams your worst enemy? Read on to know how traffic jam inspired June to do something creative.

Hope you like it.

Week# 4

Title: Time Drain

“Oh, shit, I’m late again.” June curved her lips looking at her golden wristwatch. She desperately slammed the stairs one after another with the pointed four-inch heels of her sandals as she entered the small yet elegant twelfth-floor office of BB Advertising.

“God, please, save me the one last time. I can’t afford to lose this job.” She pushed open the door of Robert’s room, muttering under her breath.

“What a pleasant surprise Ms. Pinto. You broke the record. You’re only forty-five minutes late today,” Robert said drifting his stare from the documents lying in front of him to June’s sorry face, a mock sternness in his eyes.

“Actually, it’s the traffic jam. The city is getting overpopulated. With so many people giving birth to so many kids, the traffic is going to increase a hundred folds in the coming years, and you have to definitely think about the option of allowing your employees to work from home.”

“Well, thank you so much for your suggestions, and I really appreciate your logic behind the traffic jams. Anyways, we’re all set for the next meeting. Hope you’re ready with the presentation and the explainer videos about the product.” He sauntered across the room and approached the door.

short romantic stories, www.mariyamhasnain.com“Oh, Yeah, I’m. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.” June stammered as she caught her lost breath, thinking whether she put the pen-drive back in her purse after completing the work or just forgot it home.

“Great! Hope it’s not your last day with me. Perhaps, the approval can save your life.” His face turned stiff as he pulled open the door. And, the next moment, he was gone.

“Shit. The PD is not here.” June mumbled as she checked her laptop bag and purse for the final time.

I need this job. I have to do something.

Think June. Think!

Yes…I know how to do that. I hope Robert won’t find it offensive.

Perhaps, he will. Perhaps, not, if the client gets impressed.

I don’t know.

***

When she reached the conference room, she noticed Robert busy discussing the project details with the clients.

“Please Ms. Pinto. I think you take the charge from here. The stage is all yours.”

And, with that, the bright blue LED screen welcomed her on the stage.

Reflecting confidence, June defied her mental turbulence and walked across the room to reach the place where the LED panel was mounted. The cold air of the central air conditioning gave her chills in the sweltering heat of August. Her eyes darted onto the TV screen and then to the sea of faces. All eyes on her as if she was not human but an alien descended from an obscure planet, not even Mars. At least, humans knew about Mars.

“A very good morning to all of you. I hope you all enjoyed your travel from your home or office or wherever you live to Big Bang Advertising. I really appreciate you all reach here on time conquering the traffic jams. I think you guys must be listening to Radio Mirchi Traffic updates and wisely chose your routes.”

“Ms. Pinto…Come to the point. Put on the presentation.” Robert mumbled, his lips pursed and his broad jaw became even broader as anger and stress crept on his face and creased his forehead.

“Oh! Yeah…I totally forgot why we are here. So, ladies and gentleman, I’m going to show you something you’ve never seen before. Any guesses?”

Utter silence in the room.

“Here comes a rescuer to all women’s hair problems – Silk and Shine hair tonic. No matter who you are – a college girl, a working woman, a housewife, or a latecomer like me, Silk and Shine keeps you on time even when you don’t have time.

Apply it on your wet hair, dry hair, or morning hair and be the charm of everyone’s eyes – use Silk and Shine and Be on Time.”

The blue screen of the LED still shone behind June’s back with the AC sending cold waves to her body.

“We’re expecting the video and the presentation, not a live act. But, it was good. We liked it. I think we can work on this.” A middle-aged short-haired lady from the client’s panel smiled before clapping and nodding her approval.

***

“Good, you did it well.”

“Thanks, Robert. I hope it’s not my last day in the office.”

“I want to see you on time.”

“Oh yeah. Definitely.”

“In the evening. Six. Sharp. At Lamps”

“What?”

“Be on time, Ms. Pinto. Be on time,” He chuckled before entering his room.

******

Did you like what you read? If you did, don’t forget to share.

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~MH