If only Romaine could convert the sex moans she released earlier into cash, she would probably be richer that the Mullin family or even to the other billionaires worldwide.            Her pussy was swelling. Well, it had always been every time she made fondue with Dorrien. She was never wrong in choosing this man as her partner-in-crime, as her lover, and as her best friend. Visenna had been a good best friend to her. But, the only thing that distinguishes her and him is the fact that Dorrien had a long, fierce, fat dick.            She gave Dorrien one final glance. The lad is peacefully snoring now in his own apartment room, with just enough space and necessities he needed for everyday life.            She lay down again and slowly closed her eyes as her

           Romaine’s face could not be painted. That black-clothed person just snatched her stepdaughter from her sight. Now, Rozelyn’s already lying on the cemented floor outside the building of the art gallery.            Romaine Eastwood-Zadzisai can no longer count how many times Rozelyn fainted this month—the month of October.            Samhain was fast approaching, and the incidents that happened to their family was fast increasing; perhaps even more. Without wasting another minute, she grabbed her phone from her clutch bag and phoned the only male in their family—Cyrill Emerson Clarke.***                    She could hear the noise of two people having a tango in the other lin

First, it was Cyrill who was framed for a murder. Then Rozelyn.            ‘What’s going on in this world? Why do people keep blaming other people for the heinous crime of their own?!’            These were the words she thought as she was being escorted towards outside the police station by Milah. Milah is Ezra’s wife and an Irish detective who graduated at the University of Dublin. Truly, when you have a family member who’s proficient in dealing with the law and taking legal actions, you can achieve justice and make yourself innocent—whether you’re truly innocent or just pretending to be one.            “Are you okay, dear?” Milah asked her as she looked quivering even from a distance.      &

Leonardo had vowed to know if Nyra’s new pet was his Rosette or not. But he didn’t manage to know the answer for years, decades, or perhaps centuries—he didn’t know as he lost track of time. Leonardo tried to search for his Rosette, letting the oceans of time and seas of sorrow just pass by. If only he could pour all his power so that he may locate his Rosette in a snap of a finger, he shall do it.            But his sister, the Heathen Queen Rhella, forbade him and wouldn’t teach him that secret magic.            So, he manually and physically looked for his Rosette everytime the sun rose and the moon awoke.            “Let’s have our supper at Ezra’s Diner, Leo!” The voice of his mortal friend who was driving the cab was the one who drifted h

Eku Mazari Zadzisai always knew that the Blood Rose myth is true.            Gone are the nights he kept on wishing under the starry sky. Gone are the days he kept on praying to whatever god, goddess, spirit, or supernatural force that exists in this realm with a match of a Palo Santo incense or sage whatsoever.            Myths do have a basis of reality, or at least inspired from one.            He glanced at his bedridden wife, Visenna, who was pregnant with their child and is due a few months’ time.            Yet, according to the doctors, only one of them will be able to see the sunlight for the next ten years or so.            But Eku loved both of his girls&md