6 Minute Podcast

“Tyler Brooke, do you take Miss Becky Smith as your lawfully wedded wife?” “Yes, I do” I replied so firmly with a smile on my face. “And do you, Miss Becky Smith, do you take Tyler Brooke, as your lawfully wedded husband?” One minute, two, and some more minutes passed as she looked around. I wasn’t worried because i knew she had no choice, this wedding had to happen or she would lose everything. Becky's father asked her to get married to their gardener — a gardener she hired by herself to tend to the garden in her father's mansion. Of course, you wouldn't expect a classy woman like her, who has eyes for wealthy men, to accept a classless gardener as her husband, especially when she already has a fiancé. But what happens when her father uses her love for money against her by taking all her assets, putting her in a tight spot and leaving her with only one choice — to marry the poor gardener. What happens when she realizes that this poor gardener had a secret that could either make or destroy her marriage to him? She hates him, but he isn't ready to let her go. Will they be able to stand the test of time, or will they be overwhelmed by the dangers that lurked at every turn they took?

My best friend's boyfriend was cheating, so I tagged along to bust him at a hotel. Fifteen hours until go time. Felicity Cook booked a room right next to Jake's, jaw tight. "They'll be here tonight. When the time comes, we'll catch them red-handed." Inside, I could barely keep my eyes open. She'd been a wreck since last night, and I hadn't slept a minute trying to keep her sane. Figured I had time, so I set an alarm and crashed. When I opened my eyes, a guy was lying next to me. Felicity kicked the door in and pointed at me. "Lydia Lloyd! I can't believe you betrayed me! You're my best friend! Why would you sneak around and steal my boyfriend?" I just stared, mind blank, trying to get words out. She snapped, yanked out a kitchen knife, and in front of everyone, drove it into me again and again. I hit the floor, drowning in my own blood, eyes stuck open like my body refused to let me go. I came here to catch a cheater—how did I end up the side chick? Then I blinked... and I was right back at the moment I first walked into that hotel with Felicity.

In order to give my boyfriend, Alaric Lovell, a surprise on our anniversary, I manage to finish my work in three days on my business trip that's originally set to be five days. But as soon as I reach the front door after a whole night's travel, I hear laughter coming from within. Just one minute ago, Alaric has texted me, saying that he misses me greatly because he's home alone. The next thing I know, the sounds of people egging on someone grow even louder. "It's your turn now, Alaric. Truth or dare? Remember, we want the juiciest details!" "Damn, you guys really are nosy, huh? Fine, I'll spill the tea. Not a single word to Elena, alright?" "Just spill already! Don't you trust us with your secrets?" "I've given my virginity to Tracy," Alaric reveals. Everyone starts going "ooh" knowingly. Meanwhile, the revelation has me stunned. Tracy? As in Tracy Sanderson, Alaric's female friend who acts like a guy around him? Before I can register what's going on, Tracy adds smilingly, "Oh, he did more than give me his virginity. He's even impregnated me in the past." That's when I fling the door open and step into the house. As I stare at the shameless couple, I smile at them. "Is that so? Where's your baby, then?"

After the SAT results came out, Ethan Blake—the poorest student in our class—had scored just over 660. And yet, he somehow managed to convince my two childhood friends to apply with him to the worst community college in the state. Under his influence, they both happily agreed to go to the same school as him. I tried to talk some sense into them over and over, but they accused me of having bad intentions—of just being jealous of Ethan. When that didn't work, I reached out to their parents. At the very last minute before the application deadline, I managed to get their choices changed, securing them spots at a good university. Ethan had no choice but to enroll in the community college alone. Less than six months later, news broke that he had jumped from a campus building. After Jessica Miller and Megan Flores went to the school to claim his body, they came back and dragged me up to the rooftop. "If you hadn't stopped us from applying to the same school as Ethan," they said, "he never would've been bullied into jumping to his death. Now you can die with him!" Without hesitating, they pushed me off the roof. I hit the ground and shattered into pieces. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the exact moment they decided to follow Ethan to that community college. This time, I'll just stand back and watch them throw their lives away.

The contractions were ripping me in two. My vision was going dark. My husband, Don Vittorio, the man who ruled Chicago, squeezed my hand. His dark eyes burned with love. "Just a little longer, mia cara. You'll meet our baby soon." Sweat poured down my face. I still found the strength to smile for him. Then a nurse walked in. She held a syringe. I thought it was to stop the pain. But Vittorio’s hand fell away. He took a single step back. The needle sank into my arm. I heard Vittorio’s voice. It was cold steel. "Dose her carefully. She holds on until midnight. Not a minute sooner. Not until after Ornella delivers." And then I knew. He thought I married him for the money. He was stopping my labor. All for a sick Falcone family rule: the first son born is the next heir. Pain tore through me. I reached for him. Tears streamed down my face. I begged him to stop. He bit his lip. His voice was pure ice. "My brother is dead. Ornella carries his only heir. You will do as you are told. You and your child will not steal his birthright." The drug hit my veins. The violent squeeze in my belly, like some invisible hand, just… stopped.

I did everything against my beliefs in marriage. The day our worlds collided, I hated his guts. If you think a man who is striking—so damn good-looking, shallow, narcissistic, and extremely rich like Mykel Creed will ask the love of his life to marry him? You’re wrong. It was me who asked—a complete stranger, a hardworking independent woman who took a different path from the family business. Yet, right now, I’m marrying him for my inheritance. I blame myself for my self-defeating action. It doesn’t take long for me to realize my biggest mistake is marrying the right man for the wrong reason until my actions speak the loudest, and my heart starts to get a mind of its own. *** Not so long ago, my only priority was making billions with a little bit of fun along the way. Yet it only took Adley Kross a minute to make me agree to marry her—the woman who called me names. If you think I will laugh in her face, call her nuts, and show her the way out? You’re wrong. Well, I owed her, and now she comes to collect it, but that’s not the point—she had me at the first sway of her ass. I blame myself for being drawn to those sterling eyes and her gorgeous curves. But being with her seems to matter more than my money and being bound to her stupid terms.

"You certainly do smell nice for a doxy,” He groaned, burying his face in my neck. "You should be mine." I chuckled, sliding my long nails over his neck, right atop his jugular. Hayden froze. “The fuck? Is that-“ “Wolfsbane?” I purred. “Yes it is.” He held his breath for a minute, before gritting out in a low gravelly voice. “Who the fuck are you?” I pulled away, still seated on his lap, grinning wolfishly. My tongue flicked out to lick my fangs before I replied. “Nova. Nova Frost.” ***** At the annual Howl Gathering, eighteen year old Nova Frost finds out that she is mated to the Alpha Hayden of the Storm clan. An Alpha said to rule over the mountain regions with an iron fist. He rejects her without a second thought. That same night, her father is killed along with several other Alphas, one of the few who made it out alive was Hayden. Those who made it out alive are called The Nine. Nova knows Hayden and the nine killed her father and spends seven years sharpening her sword for revenge. Seven years later she attends the howl gathering festival in disguise, out to seduce Alpha Hayden, find out why he and the nine had killed her father and then have her revenge all in the Seven days of the Howl Festival. What could possibly go wrong? Everything.

After so many years of searching for a job, I finally got one, but it came with a lot of twists and unexpected desires—I ended up falling for my broken CEO. ******** "My heart is no longer capable of love, Jessy; you are wasting your time by preaching that to me." He snapped, making me take a sharp intake of breath. "Sir, just because your ex left you broken and shattered doesn't mean all love is meant to be like that," I said with confidence. "Sir, true love is a beautiful thing; it's a thing that recognizes no barriers; the best love is one that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, "I add, smiling dreamingly as I pictured him in my mind. "Miss Jessy, are you indirectly professing your love to your boss?" I snapped back to my senses, meeting his confused glance at me; I gasped, realizing how stupid I was. "Hmm... Sorry... sorry sir, I will go work on the document." I rushed to pack the piece of document, aiming quickly for the door; I was just too embarrassed to spend even a single minute here. "Miss Jessy, do you have feelings for me in any way?" I was about to exit the door when he caught me by the arm, his question making me root on the spot. "What should I do? geez!"

“What do you want, Aria?” I swallow hard, my palms sweaty. “I need to talk to you. About... us.” His look doesn’t alter, and for a second, I worry if he’s just going to walk away again. But he doesn’t. Instead, he straightens up, his gaze never leaving mine. “There is no ‘us,’ Aria,” he replies, his voice flat and cold. I feel a knot building in my throat, but I go forward. “You felt it, didn’t you? The tie between us. You can’t refute it.” He approaches closer, and for a minute, I think I see something flicker in his eyes, something that nearly seems like sorrow. But it’s gone as swiftly as it appeared. “You’re not my mate, Aria,” he replies, his voice tightening. “Don’t fool yourself.” The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I take a step back, my vision fading as the weight of his rejection slams over me. My heart feels like it’s being pulled apart, piece by piece. How can he say that? How can he deny what’s so painfully clear to me? “Damian, I...” I whispered, but he cut me off, his voice colder than ever. “I don’t want you, Aria. You mean nothing to me.” And with that, he turns and goes away, leaving me standing there, crushed.

Seven years ago, I ignored my girlfriend's heart-wrenching pleas and ruthlessly severed our relationship. Now, after seven long years, she had risen to the top—and she was back, ready for her wedding. She didn't come home for mere celebration, though. She came for revenge. She obliterated the company my father had spent his entire life building and did not stop until she shattered his leg, forcing him to endure unimaginable pain. It was all so I'd be forced to go to her wedding and beg for forgiveness. But that wasn't enough. She wanted more. She hissed, brandishing a blade, "If Matthew's not here in ten minutes, I'll slice off a finger for every minute he's late." My autistic brother's fingers, the only way he could create art, became a bargaining chip in her sadistic game. Dad's anguished cries filled the air as he pleaded for mercy, but she was not done. She wanted to tear my family apart piece by piece. My mom, fragile and trapped in the haze of Alzheimer's, was next. Her mind, already slipping, crumbled under the relentless torment. She cracked, completely lost to the madness. With tears streaming down his face, Dad said, "My son died the day you left for abroad."