The Rack

On New Year’s Eve, my fiancee, Delilah Carrington, left me to freeze to death in subzero snow. As my body went numb, she was wrapped in the military coat I had found for her, curled up in Everett Kingsley’s arms while eating the holiday groceries I had paid for. When I opened my eyes again, I was back before everything fell apart. So when she called—cold, demanding, rattling off a shopping list like I owed her—I hung up, blocked her number, and made my move. I sealed off Blackridge Logistics Hub, the largest logistics hub in the country. Stockpiling supplies? Pointless. Because my coworkers and I had more packages than we could ever open: seafood delicacies, premium cigars, top-shelf liquor, and industrial generators. Hundreds of millions of shipments meant for the holidays were now all mine. Inside a warehouse kept at a steady 26°C, I ate wagyu steak and watched the world collapse through surveillance feeds. I witnessed Delilah’s entire family tear each other apart over half a moldy pack of crackers. I thought I could live like this forever. I was wrong. In the apocalypse, the most dangerous thing isn’t what’s waiting outside. It’s the people who refuse to stop playing the hero.

"Why are you here, Aaron?" The question was charged with the need to really uncover the truth. "Because," he said, his breath hot against my skin, "there's justice in redemption, and you, Roanne, seek for justice in the wrong place." Before I could process the weight of his words, his mouth was on mine, a kiss that stole the air from my lungs and branded me with a hunger I'd fought to forget. It was possession, it was power—it was a battle I wasn't sure I wanted to win. - Roanne is a sophomore who is seduced into a secret campus revenge society by new "friends" promising justice against elite misdeeds, but becomes entangled in an intricate web of romantic obsession, family empires, high society deceit and dangerous underground power plays. The most dangerous game she plays is to seduce her ex’s best friend, but what happens when he becomes the hunter and not the prey? The Revenge Club is created by Amelie Bergen, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

Run for the money. It’s part of the show. If he catches up, he won’t let go. Anya I’m in trouble—the kind that comes from a mobster and my irresponsible father. He killed himself and left me—and my underage sisters—holding the bag. Dmitri Ivanov wants half a million within two weeks, or he’s going to force us into the sex trade and keep my sweet little sister for himself. I’m desperate, so when I see the twisted reality TV show, “The Island,” I decide to compete. It’s only one weekend, and if the hunters don’t catch me, I get a million dollars. If they do, I still get paid—and extra for being a virgin. I just have to avoid getting trapped. But when I meet Spencer, maybe I don’t mind him catching and claiming me… Spencer My brother tricks me into coming with him for a weekend of hunting. I’m not into the outdoors and have never hunted an animal before. When I find out we’re supposed to hunt women instead, I’m ready to walk out. Until Anya walks in. One look at her, and I know she’s mine. I can’t fight the primal, possessive need to catch and claim her. There’s just one problem. If I have her for the weekend, how will I ever let her go? This is a contemporary romance with suspense and dark themes. While consensual, certain fantasy elements acted out between Spencer and Anya can be triggering to sensitive readers.

On the way to the hospital in my daughter's car, my legs felt cramped, so I adjusted the angle of the passenger seat. A second later, I heard a soft snap from beneath the seat. A toothpick had broken. I jumped in fright as my daughter, Marissa Langford, slammed on the brakes, her face turning pale. "Why would you touch that? Tyler set that seat to a specific position on purpose. He uses it to check whether another man has been sitting in the passenger seat. How am I supposed to explain this now?" Realizing I'd caused trouble for her marriage, I immediately sent Tyler Ashford, my son-in-law, an apology. Hours passed without a reply. Eventually, all I received was a cold laughing emoji. Thinking Tyler was upset, I bought two expensive bottles of wine and personally went over to smooth things over. However, when Marissa opened the car door, I finally saw what was covering the passenger seat. It was a custom seat cover. Embroidered across it in glaring letters were the words: "Tyler's Exclusive Seat. No Old Bastards or Dogs Allowed". My vision went black with rage. Seeing me standing there without moving, Marissa frowned impatiently. "Tyler's just immature. Are you really going to be this petty and hold it against him?" I laughed. "You're right. I am petty. That's why the $20,000 I give you every month ends today. From now on, you're on your own."

When Rachel gets drunk at a bar, hurt letting herself fall in love with her boss, even after knowing it would hurt her the most in the end. She doesn’t like alcohol because it takes her emotions out of control. But on that day, she’d rather be drunk than remember the one she loves. She knows Jayce wants nothing but the occasional sex they have from time to time, and that her feelings will only make matters worse. Rachel doesn’t want the same fate as her mother, but she can’t stop following in her footsteps, falling in love with somebody who can never love her. But the thought of losing Jayce makes her forget all her troubling past. Later, when Rachel was all drunk and lost, Jayce came to her rescue. That led Rachel to confess her feelings for him, making Jayce realize that falling in love wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. Later, he takes her to his home, promising to confess her feelings to her in the morning when she is sane. But in the morning, Rachel remembered her silly confession. In her mind, she thought that this could be the end of their relationship and left Jayce asleep, with the commitment of never seeing Jayce again. But on waking up, when Jayce can’t find Rachel. He came to know that she was gone, leaving him alone with no sign of her whereabouts. But he can’t leave her, not now, when she’s the only hope of happiness in her life. He wants Rachel back in his life, in his arms, where she really belongs.

Lena Marchetti, twenty-eight, operates on fumes. Her father Marco's cancer treatments have swallowed her savings and the final credits of her degree. She interns at Croft Industries, a glass tower engineered to diminish. She is invisible, sweat gluing her blouse to her spine, until she drops Julian Croft's Montblanc pen. The crack on marble halts breath. She scrabbles on cold stone. When she lifts her chin, Julian crouches beside her. He doesn't retrieve the pen. He waits. His gray eyes hold hers, and heat floods her neck, damp and unwelcome. "You break it, you buy it," he says. "And you can't afford it." He leaves her kneeling. At 3:17 AM, her phone blares: Croft. Office. One hour. She goes. His office smells of leather and ozone. He slides a contract across the desk. Six months. Exclusivity. Her compliance. In exchange, her father's debt dissolves. Her signature slants, barely legible. After her best friend Dani labels Julian a sociopath, Lena sobs in the service elevator. He finds her. "Come with me." He escorts her to a 24-hour diner. He orders cherry pie, slides it across formica. She is wrecked—blotched skin, swollen lids. He studies her as if memorizing the topography of her distress. He teaches her to fence. She lunges, jabs his ribs. He laughs in that rusted, startled way that travels up her calves. She registers: I manufactured that sound. Elara Vance, Julian's former mentor who sold his first deal for a board seat, resurfaces. She invites Lena to lunch, offers employment. "He'll never perceive you as an equal. Work for me. Become a threat." The words burrow. Lena's palms dampen at his touch. While Julian travels, she picks the lock of a hidden room. A library.