How Does By A Nose End?

Billionaire CEO Damien Voss hasn’t slept peacefully in three years — not since the car accident that broke him. When his assistant drapes a forgotten lavender-and-strawberry scented blanket over him, Damien finally finds rest… until the precious scent is washed away forever. Desperate and unraveling, he turns to the blanket’s owner: Liora Kane, his assistant’s younger sister. With a single threat her brother’s job or her compliance Damien forces Liora into a contract: eight hours per night in his bed, nothing more. Her days remain her own. Six months only. He tells himself he is being reasonable. He only needs her scent to sleep. Nothing else. But Damien Voss was once the city’s most sought-after bachelor tall, devastatingly handsome, and powerfully built. Even after the accident, his striking looks and commanding presence remain. And though he has never been with a woman, he quickly learns how to use every inch of his body to seduce the innocent woman lying beside him. Night after night, Liora lies stiff beside the domineering CEO as he buries his face in her neck, inhaling her like a drug. What begins as clinical necessity slowly turns carnal. His touches grow bolder. His hips start to rock against her in the dark. He rubs himself against her thigh or stomach until he shudders and spills in his boxers, whispering filthy praises against her skin while she fights the unwanted heat building inside her. The contract promised safety. It promised only eight hours and nothing sexual unless she consents. Yet Damien’s obsession deepens with every shared breath. Jealousy ignites. Possession takes hold. And Liora finds herself dangerously seduced by the broken, beautiful man who needs her more than air a man willing to break every rule to make her crave him.

My adopted younger sister, Marissa Payton, loves pulling pranks on others. But I'm the only one who gets hurt in her pranks. Last year, she and our older brother, James Payton, locked me up in a cold storage room. Because of that, I'm afflicted with a case of severe asthma. James apologizes to me before telling me that he'll take me cave diving just to make it up to me. Marissa tags along with us on the trip. She keeps casting me malicious glances every now and then. Feeling rather uneasy, I quickly get into the water just so I can get away from Marissa. But when I'm 65 feet deep, I feel a wave of suffocation hitting me all of a sudden. It turns out that Marissa has secretly shut off the oxygen supply. I can hear Marissa's smug laughter ringing out from the underwater communicator. "Look, Jamie! I told you that Nat would fall for it again!" James' voice is filled with affection. "Leave it to you to be smart enough to think of such a prank to play on your sister, you little imp." My face has gone blue from the suffocation. I struggle with all my might in an attempt to turn on the bailout cylinder, only to feel my hands getting slapped away from them thanks to Marissa, who has swum over to me. She then whines into the communicator, "Look at how dramatic Nat is being, Jamie! She can't stand the suffocation at all even though it's only been a few seconds!" I hear James' icy and aloof voice reverberating in my earpiece. "Just hold on a little longer. Look at how delicate you are! It hasn't been all that long, yet you already can't stand it. How humiliating. You're not even in the same league as Mari!" This time, I can only stare at James in despair as my complexion slowly goes purple. Has he forgotten what happened to me? Thanks to their prank, my lungs have already sustained irreversible damage. It's getting more and more difficult for me to breathe. Finally, my vision goes black, and I collapse in the dark bottom of the sea. This prank isn't funny at all, James. This time, I'm going to die for real.

I had worked for Customs and Border Protection for five years, but my unusually sensitive sense of smell was classified, so my husband always believed I was an ordinary office assistant. On our third wedding anniversary, I saw the husband who claimed he had to work late standing in the airport arrivals hall. He was gently brushing the hair away from his ex-girlfriend Celeste Vaughn's face, smiling at her tenderly. When he noticed me, he lowered his hand as though nothing had happened and instinctively stepped in front of her. "Nora, did you follow me? It's only a stupid anniversary. Is missing it going to kill you? "Go on, then. What do you want this time? A purse? Shoes? Jewelry?" The surrounding travelers looked me up and down with contempt. It felt like being slapped in public. I pushed the ultrasound image deeper into my pocket and pinched my trembling fingertips. "I didn't follow you." "Damien, thank you for meeting my flight, but your wife is more important. Be good and spend today with her. "And don't speak to a woman so harshly. Apologize." Damien Cole stiffly muttered, "Sorry." My eyes widened. I couldn't believe the proud, untouchable Damien had obeyed her so readily. My heart sank. Celeste patted Damien's shoulder, took the suitcase from his hand, nodded politely to me, and turned toward the exit checkpoint. Then a strange odor reached me. I stepped in front of her. "I'm sorry, but open your suitcase. Customs needs to inspect it."

After five years of marrying into the Loween City in place of my sister, the Gambling King finally passed away. My son and my ex-husband—at long last—gave me permission to fake my death and return to them. But they laid down three conditions. First: kneel before Vivian Gray, apologize for framing her all those years ago, and surrender my place as Mrs. Hartwell. Second: work as a live-in maid for my own son for five years, and never show up at his school in my former identity as the reigning queen of the nightlife scene—lest I embarrass him. Third: drink an abortifacient to destroy my fertility forever, as recompense for the infertility I once caused Vivian. "My lady, you've endured five whole years just to earn your freedom—how dare they humiliate you like this?" My maid's eyes were red, burning with indignation on my behalf. But I just tipped my head back and swallowed the death-faking pill, letting the servants toss my "corpse" into the overgrown brambles beyond the city limits. Then, from the mud and weeds, I crawled back to the Hartwell mansion—one knee at a time. Day one, I knelt as ordered and signed over custody of my son without a fight. Day three, I locked myself in the storage closet and stopped showing up at school to pick my son up like I used to. I also stopped pestering him to call me "Mom." Even when Vivian—knowing full well I'm terrified of the dark—deliberately trapped me in the basement, I bore it in silence. By the time my ex-husband Nathan Hartwell saw me again, I was barely hanging on. For the first time, a flicker of panic crossed his face as he carried me out of that basement. But my son just sneered. "It's just another stunt to win our sympathy." When he caught the tears welling in Vivian's eyes, Nathan coldly dropped me to the ground. "Always scheming against Vivian with your dirty tricks—aren't you tired of it?" Right then, the system chimed in my ear: [Please proceed to the "disposable ex-wife death node" to complete the story line and return to your original world.] I let out a quiet laugh. "Not tired at all." And with that, I turned and dove straight into the swimming pool beside me.

My wife’s childhood friend, Peter White, needed surgery. He requested that I perform the operation as the lead surgeon. I followed every medical protocol exactly and did my best to save him. However, after being discharged, he accused me of practicing medicine illegally. He claimed I had made him permanently disabled. I asked my wife to back me up. But instead, she said to me, “I told you not to act recklessly, but you wouldn’t listen. Now look at what has happened!” The hospital security footage even showed that I did not follow the standard surgical procedure. I had no way to defend myself. In the end, I was stabbed to death by Peter’s wife, Janet White, who had been financially supporting him. Even during my dying moments, I could not understand why the surveillance showed that I was not following the medical protocol! When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Peter came in for his initial examination.

It's not what you think. Two social worlds collide with words, feelings, behaviours and ideas most unexpected to bring an even more unpredictable end. Lacey Atkins leaves school for a tear and comes back wanting nothing more than to be left alone. Alone in a classroom, Tom Wade sees Lacey and soon comes to want nothing more than to be with her. Her weird and unusual ways all make him the more curious and drawn in.