Peaches

Caily Galileo believes everyone can change, everyone can become an angel. Everyone except Pietro Giacometti. He is a damned monster who will never change. And not his devilishly charming smiles that are only ever directed to her can change her opinion of him. Pietro Giacometti knows what he wants and what belongs to him and Caily Galileo belongs to him. He has been away from her for years but it is now time Caily knows and accepts that she can only ever belong to one man, Pietro Giacometti... MINE PEACHES NOTE: If you have read any of my books in the past, then you'd know my male leads kill and things can get a little bit dark but this particular book might be darker than all my previous books. Pietro Giacometti is an obsessed man who will do anything and everything to be with Caily even if it's the most unhinged thing ever. He is dark and wild. This book, however does not contain non consensual sex or rape in any form. Thank you for choosing to read 'MINE, PEACHES'. Trigger warnings: Stalking, obsession, explicit violence, BDSM.

Kimberly leans on her family and fall prey to their underhand, murderous scheme and counter scheme. Peaches And Bottles takes the reader by hand into all her survival, sex, wealth, beauty and love escapades. This novel is awesome, intriguing, and captivating.

Family is everything. Blood is everything. You only live, die and kill for your family." Born and raised in secret, like a ghost who never existed, Lilliana Moretti was brought up to be used as a secret weapon against one of the most ruthless crime families-the Romanos. And when she walked into the devil's lair willingly-pretending to be in love with the second-in-command of the Romano Empire, Dominic Romano-too many buried secrets were unearthed, leaving her shattered. An uphill battle between two crime families unleashed chaos like never before. While two people were out for each other's blood with bleeding hearts, little did they realize their love was more lethal than their hatred for each other. ************************* E X C E R P T - My fingers tangled in her hair as I forced her downward. “I’m not going to kneel before you like you’re some kind of god,” she snarled. The corner of my mouth curved into a slow, dark smile. “No,” I agreed, voice low and steady. “You’re not going to kneel for me.” I leaned in closer, eyes locked on hers. “You’re going to spread your legs for me, Lilliana—because I’m the monster, baby. The real one.”

I was barely a young girl when I was sent to him to be trained as an assassin. Marco didn't just turn me into a ruthless killer-he made me a woman. I was his protégé. He was my Master - of my mind, body, and soul. But I wanted more. I wanted to be HIS WOMAN. And how long was he going to deny me?

“Part your legs and show me what I own, wife,” Ethan commanded, the phone still connected to his ears. The way he said ‘wife’ sent a sensual thrill chasing down my spine. He said it like it was a personal fantasy of his—the filthiest pleasure he could imagine. And I knew Asher was on the line, listening to this. Listening to US. I obeyed, parting my legs just enough for the cool air to brush against my skin. I felt the power roll off Ethan, the waves of desire as if controlling me, and Asher aroused a different side of his dominance. With my heightened wolf senses, I picked up the faintest grunt and growl from the phone, and my body responded, my core throbbing with need. The misery of wanting a fated mate and chosen mate, both at once, of wanting something so badly even though I knew it was wrong and debauched and compelling. —— When Sage Laurent was sold into the marriage with Alpha Ethan Blackwood, little did she know that she’d found her fated mate. But it was not Ethan Blackwood. It was Asher Knight, Alpha Ethan’s Beta, and soon Sage realised that the Moon Goddess had put her in a very precarious position. What happens when she is drawn to both of them? Sage never imagined that the most perilous thing she would face wasn’t the dangers of the pack—but the risk of falling for them both.

A few weeks before our wedding, Rodney Luther's stepmother, Jessica Flaine, posts a photo on her social media. In the photo, she's wearing the wedding dress I picked out, holding a bouquet of red roses, and shyly leaning toward Rodney, asking for a kiss. The caption reads—"Dreams fulfilled." I don't call Rodney in tears or throw a fit like I used to. I simply like the post and leave a comment. "Screenshot sent to Rodney's father." Not long after, Jessica deletes the post, and Rodney's phone call follows immediately. "Ivana, you're being so petty! The rest of my days belong to you. It's only today that I'm fulfilling a small dream of Jessica's. Hurry up and explain things to my dad! "Come on, be good. I've got a gift for you." A scoff escapes me. "Rodney, do you hear me clearly? Go explain it to your father yourself!"