Is Big Artie: The Autobiography Based On A True Story?

Warning: 18+ only. Featuring hardcore taboo and age-gap mature stories. This is a boxset containing twelve stories of irresistible steam, steam, fun, and naughty stories. If you're not up to eighteen, this book is not for you. Get ready to be intrigued. To feel. To...sin.

Every April Fools’ Day, Wilson Hale and Chloe Mercer turned our anniversary into a joke. A fake proposal. A trick ring. A room full of laughter. And every year, Wilson was sure I loved him too much to leave. This year, cake cream slid down my face, my ring hit the marble floor, and he still smiled like I would forgive him by morning. He forgot one thing. I was not Vivian Gray, the lonely girl with nowhere to go. I was Vivian Vescari, daughter of the most feared mafia family on the East Coast. I had left that world because I wanted to be loved before anyone knew my name. For six years, I thought Wilson was that man. Then I learned even his first confession had been an April Fools’ bet. So I stopped being the joke. I went home.

Bikers and good girls don't mix. Cage was a bad boy biker. Tattoos and muscles he's every girl's dream, including Addie's. Addie was a good girl. Raised to be quiet, don't talk back, never hang with the wrong people. Date only those her parents approved. She was completely bored and just existing. That wasn't the case when she'd see him. The boy in the biker club. She'd see him around town and fantasize about how her life would be different if she was with someone like him. However he didn't even acknowledge her existence, or so she thought. Cage noticed the gorgeous innocent good girl. Her kind could never survive in his world. He was living proof of that. It took a bet from his brothers in the club to get him to meet her. When he did, he knew he was in trouble of falling hard for the good girl. Could she exist in both the world she's known her whole life and his life? Or would she have to choose? Neither knew what this encounter would bring about. Secrets buried for years, second chance love, and all the club drama you can handle. Some betrayals were meant to protect her. How will she handle learning who her real father is? Will she be able to forgive them? Will she find the true her? And if she does, will she give them another chance or walk away? Her whole world falls apart, only to get put back together totally different than she ever imagined. Her real father never got over her mother. Will they get back together or will his current woman destroy any chance they have? Look for upsets, betrayal, rejections, and more. Come hell or high water Addie will get her Happily Ever After!

My husband, Don Lorenzo, ran New York's underworld. And he's the one who put me in prison. All because his childhood flame, Cassandra Viti—the Viti family princess—killed my father. I was the first one on the scene. The Feds caught me standing over the body. He faked the evidence. Made sure I took the fall. I spent three years in hell. His apology? A single sentence and an unlimited black card. "I owe Cassandra three wishes. Once you're out, once I've paid my debt to her, you'll be my Donna again."

My best friend breaks down and accuses me of skimming family shipments, which cost us billions. Without hesitation, my fiance, Don Scarpa Falcone, points a gun at me. The bullet grazes my ear. He sends me to prison himself, then gets engaged to my best friend instead. Before I'm taken away, the family butler begs him, "You raised her yourself. She's your fiancee. You can't just ruin her life like this!" "Break the rules, and pay in blood," he says, polishing his gun. "As for her future, I'll decide that later." Five years later, I walk out of prison. The entire Falcone family is waiting at the gate with him, as if my freedom were a handout. "Looks like you've learned your lesson. It's time to return and get back to work. Don't do anything stupid again," he says. I ignore him and walk straight to the stretch Lincoln behind him. The door opens. Chris Corleone, the king of the Aurelian underworld, raises his glass to me. "Welcome back, partner."

Shortly after we said "I do," the Family sent my husband, Dario, down to the Mexican border. He told me it was a meat grinder down there—cartel territory. where guys were zipped into body bags every day. He said he had to go—to expand the territory, for the glory of the Family. He claimed it was too dangerous and that his enemies would paint a target on my back, so he wouldn't take me with him. I believed him. I stayed behind in his old, rot-infested house in New Jersey, taking care of his bitter, spiteful parents. I spent my days and nights in the Family's moldy laundromat, washing bills stained with blood. He told me he sent every dime he made down there to the widow of a brother who took a bullet for him. He asked me to be understanding. I never complained. Day after day, I pressed expensive suits in that humid laundromat, waiting for him to come home. It wasn't until the eighth year that a mobster came back drunk. When I asked about Dario, he froze, then sneered at me through a haze of alcohol. "Dario? Are you kidding? He’s been a King in Manhattan for years. He’s the youngest Underboss of the Corleone family." I stood frozen, the iron in my hand burning a hole right through a shirt. "And he got married seven years ago. Biggest cathedral in New Jersey. Half the mob was there to toast the groom..." He pulled a crumpled photo from his leather jacket. Snuggled up against my husband was a woman in a high-end couture gown—the very same "poor, widowed sister-in-law" he had told me about. The next day, I contacted a fixer who specialized in fake IDs. On the application for a one-way ticket to Europe—a ticket to vanish off the face of the earth—I filled in the fake name I had prepared long ago. He trapped me for seven years with a sham marriage. From now on, I’d be done with this damn loyalty.