All These Time

The day before the spacecraft launch, I am anonymously reported for concealing a mental illness and lose my qualification to board. After being confined in a psychiatric hospital for three years, my husband, Simon Bergman, who is now a decorated figure in the aerospace field, personally brings me home. "I had no choice but to send you there. I even applied to be demoted just to bring you back. Let's just live our lives well from now on," Simon says. Burdened by guilt for affecting his career, I spend the rest of my life carefully taking care of him and busying myself in the kitchen as a dutiful wife. But before I die, my daughter finds the letter accusing me of having a mental condition—it is written in my husband's own hand. She also discovers decades of correspondence between him and a deceased war buddy's widow named Charmaine Marlowe. In those letters, he writes that to fulfill his buddy's dying wish to take care of Charmaine, he fabricates a false mental illness record and inserts it into my astronaut application. As a result, I was sent to the psychiatric hospital, and my position was taken by her. The glass shatters, and the sharp fragments pierce me, like they are stabbing into my heart. I was supposed to be the one to go to space. But my husband sacrificed my chance so that another woman could have it! I die in despair. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day of the astronaut selection for the manned spacecraft launch. This time, when Simon offers to help submit my application, I refuse to let him.

All because of Leo Cullen’s words, I gave up a place at a top-tier university in Ceres and stayed behind to retake the entrance exams with him—three times. By the fourth year, a girl arrived at our cram school, and Leo forgot the promise we made. He started skipping class, picking fights, smoking—doing everything but studying. One day, I stood at the school gate, blocking his path with a textbook in hand as he tried to ditch class. He smirked, unimpressed, and blew a bubble with his gum, letting it stick to the ends of my hair. “Naomi…,” he began, “who still cares about studying these days?” So I stopped caring and avoided him entirely. When he fooled around in the classroom, I went to the library. When he played basketball, I sat in a quiet corner with my books. Even when I craved noodles from my favorite shop, I’d scan the room first to make sure he wasn’t there. “Are you avoiding me, Naomi?” he asked later, his face in a frown. I shook my head. “Why would you think that?”

"Does my son fuck you this good? No? Then take this dick like the good girl you are." My father-in-law had me bent over the kitchen counter, hand clamped over my mouth to muffle my moans, while his son—my husband—called my name from upstairs... *** You think you know what you're getting into? You don't have a fucking clue. This isn't some tasteful romance where the camera pans away. This is the raw, uncut, NC-17 version of your filthiest 3 AM fantasies—the ones you'd never admit to anyone, not even yourself. We're talking Daddies who don't ask permission because you already gave it with those desperate eyes. Men old enough to be completely off-limits but experienced enough to make you forget your own name. They'll bend you over their desk, fuck you silent at family dinner, and make you call them Daddy while reminding you how young, and tight you are. Trigger warnings? Everything here is designed to trigger you. Age gaps that'll get you disowned. Rough hands leaving fingerprint bruises on your hips. Choking that blurs your vision while he calls you his perfect little slut. Public sex in places you'll never see the same way. Getting passed around because one man isn't enough. These men don't make love—they fuck, claim, own. They'll use every hole like it belongs to them because it does. Degrade and worship you in the same breath. Call you their dirty girl while balls deep making you scream. Now be a good girl, turn the fucking page, and let Daddy show you what you've been missing.

They were my brother’s best friends—the HawkThorne brothers. Wealthy, ruthless, and filthy enough to make the whole city drop to its knees. I was the good girl once. The perfect wife. Until my husband had sex with half my office and shoved me into an open marriage I never asked for. One night at a bar was supposed to be my rebellion—a dirty little secret to make me forget. I never expected to run into them. Six years had made them look harder, darker, and so much hotter. I shouldn’t have let them touch me. Shouldn’t have let them ruin me against a bathroom sink with their filthy mouths and rough hands. Three men. One night. No promises. But the eldest HawkThorne pressed a card into my palm before I could slip away. I thought I could handle them. Thought I could survive their obsession. Now I’m learning there’s no such thing as just sex with the HawkThorne brothers. They don’t share. They claim. They corrupt. And they’re coming for every last filthy piece of me.

เพราะไม่มีใครหนีความรักได้พ้น แซม ซู และริค จึงต้องเผชิญกับความรักที่คล้ายจะหาบทสรุปที่ลงตัวไม่ได้ กลายเป็นความหวานชื่นอันขื่นขม แต่ก็เป็นความระทมอันสุดจะหฤหรรษ์ เมื่อไม่มีทางออกใด พวกเขาจึงเลือก "ปล่อยให้มันเป็นไป" ใน I'm all yours

After given a scholarship to attend a school for rich kids, sixteen years old Ivory Casper finds herself in trouble when all the kids she manages to befriend ends up in "unfortunate accidents"

"They say the first son's Duke is cursed." Refusing to marriage was the last thing Rosé could do when facing her parent's and sister's request. Rose, an energetic young lady learned of her older sister's fondness of a man. In happiness, the young girl supported her sister's love and hope for a happy marriage until one day, their aunt came with an offer their family could never refuse where she would be wedded to son of the Duke, Dominic who was known to be bound with a curse. Perhaps what others know about Dominic is not what the truth is?

A soul lost in time. A suspended love story filled with yearning and longing. Such is the tale of The lord of the Underworld and his only Beloved. There is a myth about a town every 100 years on Halloween night; demons from the very pits of hell come up to the earth and roam the streets, blending into the disguised populous searching for the perfect bride for their Prince—the Prince of Darkness himself. Although believed to be merely a myth, this tale, though not entirely true, hold some truth. Will the Prince eventually find what he seeks? Will his thirst be quenched and his search over? One can only be that truth within the pages of this unfolding tale.

Eliza Ward does not fall through time. Time bends toward her. Pulled from the present into Revolutionary America, Eliza becomes trapped in a landscape where history repeats unevenly, battles restart with variations, and memory functions as both anchor and weapon. She is not a chosen heroine, but a constant: a woman whose awareness destabilizes the moment itself. She meets Mercy Hale, a midwife and witch who understands time as a negotiation rather than a force to command. Mercy aids Eliza’s survival while refusing the role of savior, having already learned the cost of standing too close to history’s center. During a looping battle, Eliza saves Thomas Reed, a Continental soldier who does not shift when time does. Thomas is an anchor: steady, observant, unchanged across iterations. Their bond deepens in an almost-normal village where time briefly behaves. Eliza’s intervention triggers time’s response. Rather than immediate destruction, time collects interest. Mercy bargains to spare Eliza and Thomas, sacrificing her own future to stabilize the present. Time extracts payment from Eliza as well, stripping away her voice, the very tool she uses to name and hold moments in place. Silenced and unmoored, Eliza is violently displaced back into the original battle. Unable to anchor the moment, she watches Thomas die in the version of history that was always waiting beneath her defiance. Told in rotating perspectives between Eliza, Thomas, and Mercy, The Hours That Refused to Behave is a lyrical time-travel novel about revolution, restraint, and consequence, asking not whether history can be changed, but who pays when it is.

There was only one week left until my marking ceremony with Alpha Mason Wright. And this time, he was asking to postpone it yet again, all because his puphood sweetheart, Eira Padmore, the she-wolf who once saved his life, had another episode. She was in tears, begging to go to Bhador to see the snow, just like every time before, claiming she wouldn't be able to breathe otherwise. The ceremony had already been pushed back three times. All the wolves of the north had been waiting for us to complete it. But I was done waiting, and so was the pup growing inside me. If Mason refused to mark me, then I'd walk away and build my own future. But what I couldn't understand was... Why was it that the moment I left, Mason went mad searching for me, and suddenly insisted on marking me after all?