LOGINA Note from Ivy WaltersTo everyone who picked up "All Shades of Passion" and stayed until the very last page of the last book — thank you 🙏💞😍.Thank you for trusting me with your time, your imagination, and your emotions. You followed Maya into danger and desire, walked with Monalisa through a world she never imagined, cheered for Steven as he finally chose himself, held your breath alongside Sheila as she wrestled with feelings she couldn't name, and rooted for Bailey and Mark even when the odds were stacked against them.Five stories. Five worlds. Five hearts laid bare.That was never just writing for me. That was me pouring something real onto the page and hoping it would find the right readers. And it did. It found you.This collection may have reached its final chapter, but the characters live on as long as you remember them. Share their stories. Recommend them to a friend who loves a little heat, a little heart, and a whole lot of complicated feelings. That is how stories su
Bailey POVThree years later.The Olympic Stadium in Paris was nothing like anything I had ever seen.Eighty thousand seats rising into the sky like a cathedral built for speed. Flags from every nation hanging from the upper decks, snapping in the warm summer breeze. The track was blue, bright and clean, glowing under the afternoon sun like a stage waiting for its performers.And in lane four, my husband was stretching behind the blocks.Mark Kingsley. Twenty-two years old. College graduate. Professional athlete. Olympic finalist.My husband.The word still made my chest flutter, even after a whole year of marriage. The diamond on my finger caught the sunlight every time I moved my hand, throwing tiny rainbows across my skin. Big. Ridiculous. The kind of ring a man buys when he wants the whole world to know you're taken.That was Mark.Always making sure the whole world knew.I pressed my hand against my belly. Six months. The bump was round and firm under my sundress, and the baby
Bailey POVThe morning of the USATF National Championships, I woke up at four.No alarms. No wrist watch timer. My eyes just flew open.Somehow, my body knew how important today was. The same way it always knew on a race day, even when the race wasn't mine anymore.We had flown into Eugene, Oregon two days earlier. The nationals were being held at Hayward Field, the most legendary track and field venue in America. Mark qualified through the regional results in Atlanta, and his 20.98 had placed him among the top eight sprinters in the country for the men's two hundred meter.Top eight.In the entire country.I sat on the edge of my hotel bed and let that sink in for a moment.The boy who had blackmailed me into coaching him was now lining up against the fastest men in America.And I helped put him there.I got dressed, tied my hair back, and headed to Mark's room. Knocked twice.He opened the door already dressed. Training shorts. Compression top. His spikes hanging from his bag by th
Bailey POVThe morning of the USATF National Championships, I woke up at four.No alarms. No wrist watch timer. My eyes just flew open.Somehow, my body knew how important today was. The same way it always knew on a race day, even when the race wasn't mine anymore.We had flown into Eugene, Oregon two days earlier. The nationals were being held at Hayward Field, the most legendary track and field venue in America. Mark qualified through the regional results in Atlanta, and his 20.98 had placed him among the top eight sprinters in the country for the men's two hundred meter.Top eight.In the entire country.I sat on the edge of my hotel bed and let that sink in for a moment.The boy who had blackmailed me into coaching him was now lining up against the fastest men in America.And I helped put him there.I got dressed, tied my hair back, and headed to Mark's room. Knocked twice.He opened the door already dressed. Training shorts. Compression top. His spikes hanging from his bag by th
Bailey POV First. He came first. I grabbed the railing to keep from falling, my stopwatch dangling from my wrist, tears pouring down my face faster than I could wipe them. Mark Kingsley. Nineteen years old. National champion. The crowd was on their feet. The noise was deafening. A wall of sound crashing from every direction, shaking the air, shaking the ground, shaking something deep inside my chest that I thought had gone quiet years ago. Mark stood past the finish line, chest heaving, hands on his knees. He stayed there for a moment, catching his breath, letting the moment settle over him. Then he straightened up. And looked for me. His eyes scanned the coaches' area. Moving fast. Searching. Until they found mine. And the grin that broke across his face was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. He didn't walk toward me. He ran. Jumped over the barrier separating the track from the coaches' section like it wasn't there and landed in front of me, sweaty, breathless, vi
Bailey POVThe morning of the USATF National Championships, I woke up at four.No alarms. No wrist watch timer. My eyes just flew open.Somehow, my body knew how important today was. The same way it always knew on a race day, even when the race wasn't mine anymore.We had flown into Eugene, Oregon two days earlier. The nationals were being held at Hayward Field, the most legendary track and field venue in America. Mark qualified through the regional results in Atlanta, and his 20.98 had placed him among the top eight sprinters in the country for the men's two hundred meter.Top eight.In the entire country.I sat on the edge of my hotel bed and let that sink in for a moment.The boy who had blackmailed me into coaching him was now lining up against the fastest men in America.And I helped put him there.I got dressed, tied my hair back, and headed to Mark's room. Knocked twice.He opened the door already dressed. Training shorts. Compression top. His spikes hanging from his bag by th
Monalisa POV. 3 days later. At 7:40 a.m. on Thursday, Steven and I were driving to school from his house. Living with him was way easier than I'd thought. We were smoothly bonding and had easily settled into a routine. I followed him to school every day in his car as long as I was up and ready
Monalisa POV. The joke was on me. I wasn't enjoying him. While his touch had felt good, his fingers, very skillful during the massage session, I just couldn't get into sex with him. He had my legs planted on his shoulders, and his dick was almost as big as Greg's. So it wasn't about size.
Monalisa POV.He followed my eyes to look down at himself, and a sly smile parted his lips. "You don't know how much I've thought about you over the past couple of days."The air thickened around us, that sexual attraction flaring between us.He looked down at me, and I gazed up at him, our eyes lo
Monalisa POV. I blinked twice, staring hard at the huge dick in front of me. Oh my gosh, he was so big. Would it even fit? My eyes were glued to the pink cock which was about eight inches long, or more. The broad head was swollen and the slit was glistening with a fluid. Fine veins ran acr







