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I dated my younger brother’s best friend, Dylan Lane, for three years. More than once, he told me how much he loathed arranged marriages and how he hated being chained by family interests. However, one night, after another bout of indulgence, he wrapped his arms around me and begged me sweetly to design a wedding ring for his fiancée—someone he had never even met. The smile froze on my face, yet he just said indifferently, “Aren’t people like us all destined to marry for our families' benefit?” Seeing the blood drain from my face, he even chuckled. “Vee, don’t you tell me you're still as naïve as a 20-year-old girl, thinking I would ever marry you? At most, we're just… pillow friends." Later, I agreed to the marriage my family had arranged for me. Dylan showed up on my wedding day, disheveled and red-eyed. He fell to his knees and begged me not to leave. I stood beside my new husband, hand in hand, and smiled faintly as I chuckled. “Didn’t you say people like us were born for arranged marriages? I’m simply doing what you always wanted me to do. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

Waking up crushed under a man, I nearly screamed—until I saw who it was. Adrian. My cold, obsessive husband. The man I spent a lifetime escaping from. In my past life, I trusted the wrong people. Betrayed the only man who ever protected me and died alone. One life ruined me. This one? I’ll ruin everyone who tries again. Now, the game is mine and I write the rules. I'll act sweet. Stay mysterious. And pit every snake against each other. And as for my dangerously obsessed husband? I will tame—wait... WAIT! I was just being a little gentle, why is this tyrant acting like a delicate princess? 'Hey, hey, stop clinging to me! What? You want cuddles? Head pats? You—You are not a cat, Adrian!' … “He’s deathly allergic to strawberries? But he devoured one from my hand like it’s a miracle elixir.” “He has sleeping disorders? But he hugged me and passed out like a lazy cat!” “He’s sulking… because I didn’t hold his hand?” When he saw me hugging my female best friend? He lost his mind. Yanked me into his arms and growled, “Mine,” like a deranged villain in love. I finally understood: no one else ever stood a chance. I was his only obsession.

Three years after our breakup, I ran into my ex-girlfriend, and she had her new boyfriend by her side. "Hey, isn't that Henry the expert?" Diego Stanley taunted with a smirk. "Three years post-breakup, and you're slumming it here playing with clay?" I furrowed my brow, ignored them, and carefully moved the Victorian-era porcelain musician figurine onto its preset base in the display case. When I wasn't biting, he reached out to grab the figurine from my arms. "What's this junk you're treating like gold? Let me take a look." Cynthia Wyatt frowned, her voice laced with that familiar arrogance. "Henry, I've given you three years to shape up, and you're still the same loser? Come on, hand over that clay doll to Diego. Don't kill the vibe. If you play nice, I might even reconsider our old engagement." As Diego's hand neared the figurine, I dodged quickly and barked, "Hands off! It's a historical artifact!" Diego got pissed off and shoved me hard. "Some flea market find, and you're acting all high and mighty?" In the ensuing scuffle, I lost my balance, and the figurine slipped from my grasp, crashing to the floor. That sealed their fate. This entitled pair was about to go bankrupt trying to fix it.

I set fire to my painting in front of the entire academy. Thunderous applause erupts from the crowd as everyone thinks it's some kind of performance art. Unlike them, Willow Laurent is distraught. She rushes up and grabs my hand, questioning in a shrill voice, "Cassidy Seymour, have you gone mad? This is your only chance to prove yourself!" I shake her hand off me coldly. My only chance? No… What she means is that it's her chance. In my past life, I created this masterpiece with all my heart and soul. But she stole it from me and submitted it as her entry first. Whether it was the composition, the colors, or even my original dot-stippling technique… She replicated every detail flawlessly. Then, she won the National Young Artists Gold Award, signed with a top gallery, and became a rising star. And what about me? I was condemned as a shameless plagiarist. Insults and curses gradually drowned me. "You shouldn't be an artist!" "Plagiarists are scum! They should just die!" Her fans stormed into my studio, smashed my art supplies, and broke my right hand. As I saw no end to the hell that I was living in, I jumped down from the top floor of my studio. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the very day she first accuses me of plagiarism.

EXCERPT: John freed himself from the security lashes in order to gain more access to Tom. He gripped his friend's waist, squeezing to emphasize how much he was willing to give up for this man. "I can touch you. We can touch. Touch me." Tom searched John's face with his eyes, the flush on his cheeks darkening and capturing John's attention once more. He could feel Tom's uncertainty as if it were a weighted net falling over them both to pin them in place. Summoning his courage, he stripped his tunic from his upper body and seized Tom's hand in his own. "Touch me. Please." John thought Tom was going to refuse until he used his free hand to reach out. SYNOPSIS: Refugees of a dead planet, the Zen are grateful the people of Earth are willing to offer them a new home. Executive Orders from the White House declare America a safe-haven for any of the shapeshifting aliens as long as they follow three basic rules: 1. Zen must take a human appearance. 2. Zen must register with human names at Social Services. 3. Zen must find paid work or volunteer to help their country. Two friends declare themselves "married" during their registration without realizing they are now legally bound to one another as a couple. Will New Americans John and Tom see their friendship turn into a romance or will they reject being accidentally married aliens?

"You want to know why all this is happening so Let me tell you but remember that I don't like any kind of rudeness and disrespect. You're here because I want something from you that you'll give me." Hearing his puzzled words, she looked at him and she asked him desperately wiping her tears "What???" "My baby that you will carry for me" "Are you mad??? What the hell are you saying ??" she scoffed at him harshly and turned around to leave this place. He fisted her hairs in his grip from behind and pulled her painfully towards him making her scream in pain. she placed her hand to remove his hand from her hair but he didn't lose his grip. "Leave me you monster. You are disgusting." She shouted on him. "don't you dare to use this tone with me. I don't like people when they disrespect me. This is my first and last warning to you that don't do this again or else you can't even imagine what I will do to you and now listen to me carefully that you will give me my child. I am not asking you but I am telling you that it would be better for you to do what you are here for." He hissed at her dangerously while fisting her hair more painfully making her hiss in pain.

Anita," her angelic voice calls to me. Thunder rumbles in the distance. Her soft, delicate hands caressing my face, sparkling green eyes grounding me from the dark past I wish I could forget. "You're safe, it's okay." I bring my hand up, running my finger over the mound of scar tissue. The constant reminder of that night. The raised bump covers the bullet fragment embedded in my sternum. She takes my hands as more thunder rumbles and tears roll down my cheeks. "Breathe Anita," she says in a soothing whisper. My lungs were burning with the need for air and it was then that I realized I'd been holding it. I take in a gasping breath and recall the first time my eyes met her green eyes. My sister had been lifted off me and my eyes opening had startled her. The first time she touched me gave me strength to hold on. I held her hand tight, trying to tell her what happened, but couldn't get enough breath to form words. Sitting in the present going through the same as I had five years ago. "They were all found, Anita. They can't hurt you anymore. It's just a storm. All the doors and windows are locked, the alarm is set. It's just you and me." "Will you keep the light on tonight, please?"

"Touch me until I cum so hard that I forget my own name," I gasped, my lips brushing his, trembling beneath the weight of his stare. "You will forget more than that, wife," he rasped, gripping my throat with one hand and sliding the other down my body, "I will make you cum until you forget how to fight your feelings for me." * Elena Thrown into a marriage with the city’s most dangerous mafia king, I had one mission, to seduce him, overwhelm him and make him end it. So, I moaned louder, touched deeper, played the part of a woman consumed by lust, all in hopes he would be repulsed. But Dominic Moretti doesn’t fall for games. He plays them better. Colder, rougher and unrelenting. Every fake moan becomes real. Every forced kiss turns savage. And every time I think that I have the upper hand, he flips me over and makes me forget I ever wanted to get out of this marriage. He doesn’t believe in love. I don’t believe in staying. But when lust ignites war and pleasure starts to hurt in all the right ways, it’s no longer about breaking the marriage, it’s about surviving it. One of us will break. One of us will beg. But we will be both drenched in each other's lust before it’s all over.

Patricia could not ask for anything more in her life but to fulfill her dream of becoming a doctor. She has beauty, intelligence and perseverance but when their company got buried in debt, she has to save it by getting married to the son of a well-known business tycoon in the country, Callum Teo Velasquez. Callum Teo Velasquez on the other hand was almost perfect in the eyes of women, with his handsome face, good fashion, and richness, many are obsessed with him. Are they able to get the freedom they want or will things become more complicated for them? Or will the blaze be the way for the two of them to land on good terms?

Imagine a world where werewolves are out in the open, where they have their own kingdom. Mates are a given blessing from the Moon Goddess that most stay true to. There are some that go against her blessing and reject their mates for another. Alexia has saved herself for her mate in every way possible, even to the point that she has never held a male hand other than her father. She believes that she is going to be blessed for her pureness, but will she? Her eighteenth birthday is the same day as the royal ball. Will she meet her mate, and will he accept her.