ANMELDENA Note from Ivy Walters
To 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 survive long after the last word is written. And if you're not ready to leave this world behind just yet, Good news🔥☺️. There's more where this came from. Continue the journey with my other books: My Lord Alpha — For those who love power, dominance, and a love that defies every rule of the Lore. MoonChild; The Rise of the Lycans — For those who crave a world where darkness runs wild and destiny cannot be outrun. Kiss Me Before the Sky Falls — For those who believe that the most intense love stories are the ones racing against time. Each one carries that same signature blend of passion, tension, and storytelling that brought you here in the first place. Your next obsession is already waiting. Until the next page, Ivy Walters 💋A 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.She writhed on his tongue, her waist moving over his mouth.Pleasure was clearly visible on her face as she began fucking his tongue, while he held onto her clit with his teeth, wrenching out her orgasm."Too sweet, too sweet," she thrashed her head, from side to side, "My God, Greg.
Monalisa POV.I had never been in a plane before.Neither had I flown in a chopper.A week ago, I didn't know Greg's family owned a yacht, nor did I know Greg had a helipad on the roof of his house where choppers came to pick him up.But here I was, looking out the window of this "Ride", as he had
Monalisa POV. Everyone chanted with jubilation as Myles rained his urine down on Kayla. I wasn't excited, but I watched anyway. After a few minutes, the show was over. A steward appeared with a black bag that was full of cash. Myles dipped his hand into it and brought out a bundle, without counti
Monalisa POV. Tears blurred my vision and I stood watching, hearing Greg groan with pleasure as Natasha ministered to him. Unable to watch anymore, I turned around and started to walk away. Every step I took felt heavy, as my body laboured to move. I managed to come out of the cabin corridor and







