Has Peter Baker Received Any Literary Awards Or Honors?

Ivan is a lost soul. He longs for each month's fight to the death in the Cage to be his last day on earth. Except when Cherish's terrified clear blue eyes meet his in a post-fight haze, he feels compelled to get involved. If he doesn't claim her body as his victory prize one of the other embittered fighters will. While Cherish despises Ivan for his notorious brutality in the Cage, she soon realises she cannot afford for him to lose the next fight. Not just for her own safety, but for her softening heart as he defies her expectations about shifters. Both have secrets, but when trapped together under the watchful eye of the Axelon gang, fellow fighters and desperate gamblers, is their love enough to achieve the impossible, and escape? Fate has kept Ivan alive this long, is Cherish the reason? Or is there to be a final cruel twist from the Moon Goddess… White Forest Pack Series (Can all be read as standalone) *Book 1 - A Banished Alpha *Book 2 - The Luna's Rejected Assassin *Book 3 - The Beta's Prize Shadowlands Series (Can all be read standalone) *Book 1 - A Damaged Alpha *Book 2 - The Luna Who Wants Everything (2023)

-Attention Mature Content 18+ Only- Did Someone Say Taboo? is a collection of erotic short stories that are sure to get you all hot and stuff! Each story will take you through one of many different forbidden, taboo fantasies! These stories will awaken your own dark desires! Once you start, you won't want to stop! Check it out now!

Sophia struggles to cater for her sick mother and her little brother after her dad abandoned them at the age of 17. Sick and frustrated with bills and not being able to enjoy her youth, she decides to get drunk and enjoy just one night without worrying about her debts, she ends up in bed with a handsome stranger, runs away and tries to forget about the night that felt special to her . Unknowingly to her the handsome stranger gets what he always wants in this case ,her . She experiences series of events that complicates her everyday lifestyle all these for her to be owned by him but she believes nothing comes free in this world and the temporary nature of love, she seems suspicious of him in his pursuit of her but ends up being pregnant for him . Now she's stuck between forfeiting her independence for the sake of the child or forfeiting the child. Can Sophia trust him? Which is worth it? Find out more in the book…

Six years ago, Catherine Bell signed a contract she barely understood. Fifty-fifty, he called it. Fair. Equal. Clean. What it really meant was simple. Everything would be divided. The bills. The responsibilities. The children. Even her suffering. For six years, she carried the weight of a marriage built on numbers while her husband measured love like a business transaction. She gave up promotions, endured lonely pregnancies, raised their twins almost alone, and kept their home together—believing that if she gave enough, one day he'd finally see her. He never did. Until the day she stopped giving. Now, Catherine places a neatly compiled ledger in front of Mason Blake—six years of invisible labor, sacrifices, and broken promises, calculated down to the last cent. Debts he never knew existed. Debts money can never truly repay. Then she does something he never imagined. She starts living by his rules. Fifty-fifty. As the life he'd taken for granted slowly falls apart around him, Mason discovers that money can replace labor... But it can never replace love. And by the time he finally understands what she was worth, Catherine has already learned the one lesson that changes everything. She never needed him. Now the man who built his marriage on equality is drowning in the very numbers he once worshipped. Because some things were never meant to be split in half. Especially a heart.

Today was my younger son, Luke's, eighteenth birthday. My ex-husband, Major General Arthur Ashford, let himself into my house without knocking. He headed straight for the liquor cabinet like he still owned the place. He poured himself a glass of whiskey and looked at me with open contempt. "Allison, how have you enjoyed the last eight years? Stuck here in Briarwood because of a family court order. "All because I broke a couple of glasses and put my hands on you a few times, you just had to file for divorce." "And what did that get you? The judge stopped you from taking the kids out of the city and made sure I got regular visitation." He swirled the whiskey in his glass, spilling a little onto the carpet. It was the same cocky look he wore the night he came home drunk and beat me with his belt. "You really thought you could get away from me? As long as I say no, you'll spend the rest of your life under my control. "After Luke cuts his cake, I am filing for emergency guardianship. You will never take my son away from me." I looked at his smug face, gripping the edge of my sleeve, and said nothing. Then he lifted his glass, ready to start barking orders at everyone. My daughter, Kate, rose from her chair and set a thick stack of papers onto the table in front of him. "General Ashford, you should read these. "As of midnight, Luke is legally an adult. Every travel restriction the family court placed on Mom is gone. "And this is the filing receipt for the name change petition for the two of us, which I filed with the Supreme Court." Arthur gave the papers a dismissive glance. Then his smile disappeared. Printed across the top in bold letters were the words: Petitions of Kate Ashford and Luke Ashford to Change Their Surname to Pierce.

At the Halloween Carnival, my younger brother and I got separated. Not long after, the headless body of a teenage boy was found in an alley. My father was consumed with rage—he blamed me entirely. He locked me in the chapel and forced me to chant prayers and light candles for my brother's soul for eighty-one days and nights. After that, he had me sold to a brothel in the city's red-light district, so I could spend the rest of my life atoning for my brother. He instructed the brothel manager there to give me only the most depraved clients—and to make sure I was left barely breathing. The brothel manager, paid to follow orders, assigned me to women with twisted tastes. Night after night, I was tormented. When I came down with consumption, I was denied any care. The hands I'd once used to turn pages—the hands of a scholar—were deliberately broken, crushing whatever hope I had left for the future. Eventually, one client went too far, and I died on the bed. The brothel manager had my body rolled up in a straw mat and dumped in a mass grave outside town. A year later, on New Year's Eve, my brother came back.