What Time Does Epiphany Library New York Close For Novel Readings?

> ️ Warning: This collection is sinfully explicit. Just glancing will make you squirm. If you can’t handle moans, ropes, or hands where they shouldn’t be turn back now. You’ve been warned. They say it’s just fiction... but these stories burn too real. Every page drips with lust, danger, and forbidden desire. There are no love stories here, only raw need, untamed passion, and the kind of encounters that leave your pulse racing and your body aching for more. Inside these pages, you’ll find hotel hookups, forbidden age gaps, dominant bosses, naughty students with teachers, moaning nurses, lesbians, stepfathers who cross the line, and desperate daughters who let them and vice versa. From BDSM dungeons to office desks, from late-night threesomes to risky public play... no fantasy is off-limits. Midnight Pleasures is a no-limits collection of erotic short stories meant to tease, tempt, and utterly satisfy. Quick hits. Slow burns. Rough rides. Dangerous desires. Even the ones you’ve never admitted out loud. Quietly, let's go on a journey full of pleasure. Cloud nine is overrated, there's a next cloud after that. Let's show you.

The heir to the Vitale family gave me thirty thousand dollars a month to be his mistress—all to get back at my mother. I needed the money. And secretly, I’d always loved him. So I let him humiliate me. Later, during a heavy snowfall, he made me kneel at the funeral of my love rival’s mother. That was when I finally let go. Enzo asked, “You think leaving New York will solve all your problems?” I answered, “It won’t solve them, but at least I won’t have to see you.” For that, he trashed the immigration agency that was helping me leave the country.

Everette and Jack know next to nothing about romance novels.... or women. So when they accidentally join a book club full of both, they have no idea what to think. But, as the book and time goes on, the ladies in their book club become more interested in a different plot. The love lives of both men.

Ephemeral -- A Modern Love Story revolves around a woman named Soleil navigating through the annals of life as it coincides with the concept of love that was taught to her by her Uncle: that love can be written on sticky notes, baked into the burned edges of brownies, or found in the triplet progressions in a jazz song. A story in which she will realize that love goes beyond the scattered pieces of a puzzle or the bruised skin of apples.

The three heirs of the Whitman family all claimed to love me. But their way of loving me was to keep me hidden. Alexander said New York's financial reporters were too aggressive and that making our relationship public would only put me in the middle of a media frenzy. Nicholas said people in the investment world were vicious gossips and he was afraid I'd become a target, so he never brought me to his partners' gatherings, private clubs, or holiday receptions. Leon said his music career wasn't established yet. Once he had a stage that was truly his own, he would acknowledge me in front of the whole world. I waited four years. This changed when Lillian Grant walked into their lives. Alexander walked her down the red carpet at the Manhattan Art Foundation gala. The next day, every entertainment outlet ran the same headline: "Eldest Whitman Heir Appears to Go Public with New Romance." Nicholas brought her to an investor reception, where his partners called her "the future Mrs. Whitman" right to my face. Leon was the most direct. He played a song at a twenty-thousand-person concert and told the livestream camera, "For the most important person in my life." The jumbotron cut to Lillian's seat. The day after the livestream. Alexander set a folder on the coffee table. "You're twenty-five now. We think it's time you had a life of your own." Nicholas continued, "This man comes from an ordinary background, but he has a stable job. He's been divorced once and has no children. " Leon slid the photo in front of me, smiling with the same easy warmth as always. "We've already met him for you. He's more than a good match." I didn't argue. I just picked up my phone and called the Whitman family attorney. What they didn't know was that the family trust Grandfather had established before his death made one thing perfectly clear. Whoever I chose would receive that twenty-seven percent block of voting shares and become the true power behind the Whitman family.

Eidolon Avenue: Where the secretly guilty go to die. One building. Five floors. Five doors per floor. Twenty-five nightmares feeding the hunger lurking between the bricks and waiting beneath the boards. The sequel to Eidolon Avenue: The First Feast (“a great read...powerful and jarring” - Cemetery Dance) returns to the voracious Eidolon as it savors The Second Feast. A narcoleptic man in apartment 2A battles a vengeful past determined to rob him of everything as he runs from the barbaric disaster of a delusional love. A woman in 2B, reinventing herself to please a callous boyfriend, discovers the horrors that wait in the shadows of her self-renovation. The man in 2C, a teacher at the nearby Catholic girl’s school, collapses beneath the brutal consequences of his lecherous desires. An older woman in 2D, after decades dedicated to the church, is cornered at last by the grisly carnage beating at the hollow center of her faith. And a college student in 2E, hungry to escape an ignored life of invisible anonymity, finds herself captured between the pages of a ravenous book. All thrown into their own private hell as every cruel choice, every drop of spilled blood, every silent, complicit moment of cowardice is remembered, resurrected and relived to feed the ancient evil that lives on Eidolon Avenue. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing