Bad Dreams Bad Dreams Go Away

I came home a day early from my business trip and hid in the closet to surprise Eric Carter. At seven, he told the housekeeper to cook several dishes. At nine, he told me hoarsely that he had taken a bath and changed the bedsheets in my room. He was sure that I would love it. I did not believe him because I had heard him moaning in bed with Willow Summers for three hours from the closet. Willow Summers was his childhood sweetheart and my sister. I clicked on a webpage from my cell without hesitation. "Miss Summers, your appointment for creating a fake death has been confirmed. Time of Death: One week later Location of Death: The wedding hall on the top floor of the Century Building Cause of Death: Suicide from jumping off a building!"

I am an Omega. One day, Alpha Carl Blanchard found me in the Borderlands and took me in. After we formed the mate bond, he spoiled me senseless, never once caring who was watching. Now, everyone was whispering about the cold, ruthless Alpha who treats me—an Omega who used to be a Rogue—like I'm something sacred. They said it defied everything the Moon Goddess ever intended. I used to think he loved me down to the bone, that he just couldn't help showing the whole world how crazy he was about me. But then, I overhear him talking to his close friend. "I'm the Alpha of the Eastlands. I rule ten packs. If I don't paint Daisy as my weakness and my one obsession, how else am I supposed to keep Fiona off my enemies' radar? Turns out every wound I took for him was a damn joke. If that's how it is, I'm done playing Luna of the Eastlands. On my last day there, I made one call. "I'm in. I'll head to the Borderlands and spend the next ten years in closed research on medicinal herbs." When Carl found me gone, he came after me with bloodshot eyes and his pride in ruins. "Daisy… are you really leaving me?"

The night before our wedding, my fiancée let her so-called "best friend" butcher the gown my late mother had sewn, chopping it into a revealing mini dress. I rushed over with the ruined dress in my arms, ready to demand answers: only to catch their voices through the door: "Imagine him expecting me to wear something a dead woman stitched. What a curse!" Through the narrow gap, I saw my distant, frigid fiancée flushed with color, straddling his lap. "What we did at the bridal shop wasn't enough," she murmured. "Tomorrow, walking down the aisle in this tiny dress you made me, it'll be even more exhilarating." Their lips met. My hand froze against the door, and inside, something broke with a soundless crack. If she longed for thrills, I would grant her some.

Gregor Lionel is a billionaire who had everything-Power, money, and success. There's one thing he didn't have and that is a peaceful and loving relationship. He couldn't seem to cope with his girlfriend's (Flora Benson) personality. She's arrogant and proud, this behavior embarrasses him a lot. One day he decided to end things with her, but she came begging and promised to change; but it was temporary. What happens when Gregor found out she was cheating and completely left her. What happens when Flora found out that Gregor is in love with a new lady named Angel Parkman and tries her best possibly for them not to be together working with Angel's ex boyfriend. Gregor found peace and happiness with Angel and vows to do anything to be with her.

Bradley Oliver Jones was eight years old when he first heard "Phantom of the Opera" in New York.The lights gleaming across the stage, the voices of the performers ringing through the theater in a way that brought tears to the eyes of those listening. A wonderful canvas of brilliance painted bright by the dull colors of the world.The performance brought something wonderful to Bradley Oliver Jones.The theatre brought magic, brought light, brought hope into the mind of a little eight year old kid.A kid now dead set on being on that stage.And suddenly, the world was on fire, and everything was possible.

One year ago, my husband Killian came back home accusing me of poisoning him, with his childhood sweetheart in his arms. It was terrifying. Because what started off allegedly, became my cold reality with that awful text. “Have you gone through with it, Tamara? Our flight is at noon,” This made Killian even more hostile, he treated me with so much contempt, he broke my heart into shreds in his quest for vengeance. Fed up, I asked for a divorce but to Killian it was one big joke. He has every means to keep me in this marriage and I know it. But screw it, and screw him! I had plans, work, make money and get myself out unscathed. But then fate decided to throw me another curved ball… I got pregnant, and Killian was the only possible father. **** Damon Blackwood is in dire need of an heir. A womb to carry his baby to term in exchange for a million dollars. One thrilling encounter and he knew he had found the one. Hazel Simpson, insanely mouthwatering, and ridiculously beautiful, smart mouth and a gorgeous body. But she lacks one thing. Money. Out of sheer desperation, Hazel responds to an ad through a co-worker, a huge sum for a secret surrogate mom. But who says rules are meant to be obeyed? Damon wants more, her womb, her body and her soul. All of her. What happens when Hazel discovers it was all a trap from the onset. **** “Have you forgotten that I'm just a divorcee, a broken woman incapable of love, Seb?” I ask him breathlessly, staring into his eyes. “I'm going to stitch your heart, Melanie. I'm going to make you want me,” Sebastian takes my ear into his mouth and nibbles it gently, sending shivers down my spine.

Everyone knew Elio Carbone, Don of the Carbone family, was a cold-hearted womanizer. He had one rule: never sleep with the same woman twice. But for me, he broke it. The first day after our breakup, he stood outside the old Bianchi estate for a day and a night, his entire security detail in tow, just to win me back. The second day, he flew to Sicily and bought the deed to my family's ancestral estate at auction for triple its value, and had it delivered to me. The third day, he tattooed my favorite flower, the lily, over his heart. The tattoo artist said he refused any anesthetic and didn't make a sound. Later, at a banquet for the Five Families, in front of all the other Dons, he sliced his palm and made a blood oath. He swore loyalty only to Eleonora Bianchi for the rest of his life; if he broke his vow, he would pay with his life. After a year of his relentless pursuit, his devotion finally wore me down, and I agreed to take him back. I truly believed him then. That Elio truly loved me. Until one night. He took me to an underground racetrack to broker a deal with an ally. But in the roaring crowd, I saw a girl, trembling and crying, her clothes in tatters. Ava was shoved to the starting line. She was the wager for the death race. One look was all it took for Elio's face to darken. The next second, he dropped his hand from my waist and, without a word, walked toward the track entrance. I stood frozen, watching his back as he disappeared into the driver's seat of a modified sports car. I used to wake up crying, terrified he would lose his life in one of these reckless races. He had smashed his trophies, burned his marker for the illegal track, and sworn to God he would never again enter such a life-or-death gamble. My hand drifted to my stomach, covering the secret I hadn't yet had the chance to share. His blood oath was broken. And so was I.

My wife's soul mate had Rh negative blood just like me. In order to make my wife happy, he donated his bone marrow to me then committed suicide. I was put on the blame for his death. Everyone blamed me for killing him. My wife who received his suicide note went crazy. She started to draw blood from my body. She was extremely cruel. "You owe that to me. He would not have died if not because of you. I am only returning to him something that did not belong to you." When the soul mate reappeared, my wife started looking for me like crazy. She did not know that I had died for losing too much blood.

In the VIP lounge of an underground casino, Maeve, the Falcone family's princess, had been plied with too much hard liquor. Fueled by alcohol, someone goaded her into revealing the most shameless thing she'd ever done to win over the Don. She swirled her glass, pointed at me dealing cards behind the table, and threw her head back with a laugh. "Seven years ago, when Declan was in a coma after a shootout, I took his private phone. And I deleted the distress message that bitch sent him. Every last trace of it. Then I replied in his name: You're a burden. Go die." "You'll never guess what happened next. That idiot stood outside the safe house all night in a downpour, like a stray dog. I almost died laughing…" The room erupted in crude laughter. Only the man enthroned at the head of the table remained silent. The crystal whiskey glass in his hand shattered with a sharp crack. Blood mixed with the amber liquor, trickling over the veins on the back of his hand before dripping onto the carpet. His murderous, bloodshot eyes were locked on me. I calmly dealt the last hole card in front of him and offered a clean, white silk handkerchief. "Don Declan, you should wipe your hand. Blood on the felt is bad luck." After all, some stains never wash out.

She was A reject, An Omega. In a pack where she was neglected and never wanted. Audrey thought her pains were over when she realized her Mate was an Alpha of the largest Pack, But Hercules have a much more plan than she thought. To him, How could a great Alpha like him be mated to such a Lowlife servant? An Omega! Surely the moon goddess must have hated him. Alpha Hercules wasn't going to reject her anytime soon, but he'll make her go through pains every single day of her existence until the moon goddess presents him with something better. Book 2 > Hold Me Tight, Alpha