Where Can I Read Bewitching Hour Online For Free?

My mom is a famous perfumer who's well-known in town. But her perfumes are charged per session. One session costs 200 thousand dollars. She only takes in ten customers per month, too. Those who have used the perfumes my mom has concocted will be enveloped by the perfumes' unique fragrance that leaves an unforgettable impression on those who have smelled it. In fact, the fragrance is capable of covering up the customers' body odor, no matter how strong it is. One session will leave the customers with enough fragrance that lasts for a month. Countless celebrities and rich women specifically travel to this town just to frequent my mom's business. Everyone sings praises about my mom, claiming that she's the mistress of all fragrances who's here to bless humanity with her gift. But I know that my mom isn't as amazing as everyone thinks she is. The only reason why her business is booming like this is all thanks to the "thing" that she keeps locked up in that room…

Sequel of 'Set Me Free', hope everyone enjoys reading this book as much as they liked the previous one. “What is your name?” A deep voice of a man echoes throughout the poorly lit room. Daniel, who is cuffed to a white medical bed, can barely see anything. Small beads of sweat are pooling on his forehead due to the humidity and hot temperature of the room. His blurry vision keeps on roaming around the trying to find the one he has been looking for forever. Isabelle, the only reason he is holding on, all this pain he is enduring just so that he could see her once he gets out of this place. “What is your name?!” The man now loses his patience and brings up the electrodes his temples and gives him a shock. Daniel screams and throws his legs around and pulls on his wrists hard but it doesn’t work. The man keeps on holding the electrodes to his temples to make him suffer more and more importantly to damage his memories of her. But little did he know the only thing that is keeping Daniel alive is the hope of meeting Isabelle one day. “Do you know her?” The man holds up a photo of Isabelle in front of his face and stops the shocks. “Yes, she is my Isabelle.” A small smile appears on his lips while his eyes close shut.

I ordered an incubus online, but when the package arrived, there were two of them. One was gentle and obedient, the other was hot-tempered and unpredictable. I immediately messaged customer service to ask if they'd sent the wrong one—I had only ordered the gentle kind. The reply came cheerfully. "Congratulations, you've unlocked the hidden variant! This model is a bit special—buy one, get one free!" Wait… what? I remembered hearing people say that raising an incubus is like raising a puppy, only better—they keep you warm at night and don't shed. Well, if that's true, whether I had one or two made no difference. So I ended up paying the price of one and getting two—what a steal! Or so I thought… until I went to feed them. That's when I realized I was the cookie in the middle of a sandwich. Apparently, "keeping me warm at night" was a strenuous activity.

“ I didn’t do it” “ I didn’t kill her.” “ Believe me I’m your mate!“ She cried and she begged but no one heard a single plea that escaped her lips. Not even her mate who stared at her like she was a criminal. “Logan, please..please..” “ Levy Harlow, under the charges of betraying your pack and leaving your future Luna unattended, I punish you with seven years of imprisonment!” Her mate didn’t listen to her pleas and nor did her family. With just a few words she was trapped in hell for seven years where she was played by the wardens as if she was their toy. In seven years, Levy not only lost an eye but she lost something more, her heart and soul. And just when she thought that she will be free off everything, he came looking for her. Her mate, her tormentor but this time she was ready to fight back. No longer as weak as once she was, she will retaliate against everything that once condemned her to hell, and she will find her happiness even without her mate. But what will Levy do if her mate came asking for forgiveness, asking her to let him in her and their unborn child’s life?

Lily Maxwell, a young, bright, beautiful, French girl. She has nothing but works hard to have enough. She won a scholarship to study in the best University in Los Angeles. Thomas Anderson, the only surviving son of a multi-billionaire family in Los Angeles who only has his emotionless but independent mom who wants him to marry a daughter of another multi billionaire family in L.A Fate brought Tommy and Lily together. They fell in love and in the third year, Lily got pregnant which threatened the academic life of both Tommy and Lily. "I'm sure you know me so I'll just go straight to the point. You have just two options" the woman In black said in a limousine with a face showing zero emotion. "You take that money" pointed to the briefcase beside Lily, abort the pregnancy and have it in mind that as of now my son doesn't exist to you or you do what you want and risk your life and that of everyone that has ever come close to you" Mrs. Anderson threatened. "I believe this is Tommy's life. And we both have the right to decide what we want without interference from anyone" Lily defended with confidence. "This is what Tommy wants. Trust me. But if you want proof, you shall have it" Mrs Anderson dialed Tommy's number and.. "She took the money didn't she?...Hope you didn't forget to tell her to abort the Baby to avoid future connection" Tommy said over the phone And that was it. Lily lost it all to love and the Andersons. Her social, love and academic life, all gone. She vowed to come back for the Andersons' downfall when it is VENGEANCE HOUR.

I stood at the edge of Ironwood territory, boots sinking into mud as cold seeped through my coat. I hated being this close to their land. It smelled like wet dog, testosterone, and trouble. “You’re late, witch.” The voice hit low and deep, vibrating through the ground before it reached my ears. I didn’t flinch. I refused to give him that. I turned slowly, amethyst eyes narrowing as I found him at the tree line. Guilermo Santander. He stepped into the gray light, rain sliding off his broad frame. Six-foot-five of pure menace. Dark hair plastered to his forehead, silver streaks catching the gloom, and those amber eyes—burning straight through me. “I’m not late,” I said calmly, though my pulse spiked. “You wolves just don’t understand patience.” He stopped three feet away. My skin prickled as the runes along my ribs flared hot, reacting to the dense magic rolling off him. Suffocating. Intoxicating. “And you witches don’t understand territory,” Guilermo said. He didn’t sound feral. He sounded tired—like a man carrying a century of weight on deceptively young shoulders. He leaned in and sniffed near my neck. I stiffened. “You smell like sage and burnt sugar,” he murmured, voice dropping, darker now. “It’s giving me a headache.” “Then stop breathing,” I snapped. One corner of his mouth lifted, a flash of sharp canine. “Make me.” The air between us snapped tight. My magic stirred, violet haze curling from my fingertips without permission, brushing the leather of his jacket. He didn’t pull away. He leaned closer. And standing there in the freezing rain with a man who could tear my throat out, I realized two things: Elder Sibal was wrong—Guilermo wasn’t a monster to be chained. And I was in serious trouble.