Barely Survived

Aria Douglas, always liberal and explosive, finally found the fit of her shoes. She never believed that she could trust a man again until she realized that she was falling in love with that man. The one she met in a bar, the one with blonde hair that looked dyed-cropped, intense blue eyes, a hooked nose, and lips created by a bloody sex god. Samme got into her skin. And between her legs. She, who did not want to be with anyone, suddenly wanted to be with that man she barely knew. What had she seen in him? There were things she didn't understand about him and she wasn't sure she wanted to answer them either. The only thing that was absolutely clear to her was that she fell in love with a man who was a mystery and an enigma to her.

At Ryder Quinn’s kindergarten parent-child sports day, I expected my husband, Michael Quinn, to be away on a business trip. Instead, I found Michael on stage, dressed in a ballet tutu, dancing as one of the "little swans" in the fathers’ performance. I had barely taken a step forward when a little girl in a floral dress darted into his arms, calling out to him in the sweetest voice, "Daddy!" There they stood: Michael, his assistant, Janine Carter, and her daughter—all in matching family outfits. The moment our eyes met, Michael quickly pulled away from her, fumbling for an excuse. "Janine’s a single mom. It isn’t easy for her. I was just helping out." I smiled, cold and steady, and handed him the divorce papers. "Then, do me a favor too, Michael. Stop wasting my youth."

"Didn't you ask me to marry you? I permit you to wed me," said the raven-haired woman with a straight, blank face. "...Pardon?" "Let's get married." "...Weren't you the one who repeatedly rejected my proposal last night?" "Can't a woman play hard to get?" The man's face twitched. He could barely keep up with her, "Look, once you—" "So, you won't marry me?" A strange glint passed through the man's amber orbs which disappeared quickly just as it came by. "Who's to say I won't?" — In which a commander of a special unit under the PSIA found himself in a contractual marriage with his strange and mysterious neighbor. Little did he know that she's one heck of a little assassin.

Two years after her sister vanished without a trace, Sera Duvall is barely surviving emotionally and financially. But when a chance encounter leads her into the arms of Lucien Calder, the tech billionaire who was the last known person to see her sister, she makes a dangerous choice: infiltrate his world and expose the truth from within. Lucien is controlled, powerful, and hiding something behind every careful word. He offers her a deal: stay with him for one week, and he’ll give her what she wants. But the closer Sera gets to uncovering what happened, the more tangled she becomes in a web of secrets, emotional manipulation, and a slow-burning desire she didn’t see coming. And in a world where love is leverage and lies are currency, the truth may destroy them both.

Colter Giordano, my fiancé of six years, heir to the Giordano family, took a bullet for a dancer named Mia. He didn't take one for me. A bullet tore through my shoulder. Blood bloomed across my dress, hot and sticky. But my heart hurt worse. He asked if I was okay. Just once. Then he rushed Mia to the hospital, leaving me bleeding on the floor. The next day, Mia's picture popped up on my Instagram feed. There she was, in a luxury hospital suite. Colter was fussing over a scratch on her arm that was barely there. The caption was just two words: "My Hero." I liked the post. Then I made an encrypted call. "The Falcone family's offer," I said. "I'm taking it. Get me on a plane to Sicily. Three days."

On the eve of my wedding, my wife, Sharon Moonstone, drugged me and knocked me unconscious. She let her first love, Aaron Miller, take my place as the groom, standing beside her as they held the wedding that was supposed to belong to both of us. By the time I finally found them, they had already gone into the bridal suite and consummated their marriage. When I demanded answers, Sharon did not show a trace of guilt. "You live off me. You'd better behave. Make a scene, and we'll divorce." My heart went cold. I handed her the divorce papers, but she barely looked at them. "Looks like you've improved," she said lightly. "At least you know a performance should be convincing from start to finish."

I was never supposed to be his bride, I was the mistake he couldn’t erase. Killian hated me for breathing and for simply existing. His eyes burned with anger every time they landed on me. There was so much hate and heat between us, I could barely breathe. Then there was Nolan, his brother. Quiet, but dangerous. He didn’t look at me like I was broken. He looked at me like he wanted to take everything I had—body and soul. I didn’t mean for this to happen. But guilt tastes a lot like desire when you’re starving for something real. And now I’m caught between two brothers…one who wants to hurt me, and one who already has. This isn’t just a love triangle. It’s a war. And I’m the weapon.

In that moment, our lips were only a breath's distance apart. Antonio's eyes held an unspeakable yearning. His gaze dropped to my lips, his intentions evident. My own desire mirrored his, creating a powerful magnetism. Just as he closed the distance, I placed my free hand on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. "Antonio," I murmured, my voice trembling, "We can't..." He froze in place, his warm breath caressing my lips. His eyes held my reflection in them, fluttered shut for a moment as he absorbed my words. I saw a flicker of pain, quickly masked by a stoic calm. He nodded slightly. "I understand," he replied, quietly. His voice was steady, betraying none of the emotions I knew must have been roiling beneath his suave facade. "You aren't going to ask me why?" I asked him, my voice barely a whisper. Antonio smiled, a sad, understanding smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I'm not," he said slowly, "because I understand that you have a valid reason for your actions." "Antonio," I swallowed hard, my voice unsteady, "I...I am getting married tomorrow, to Alpha Boris." His eyes widened slightly, the shock of my revelation clear. "You are the future Luna…" he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. His fingers clenched into fists at his sides. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Wilhelmina Growler is a force to be reckoned with, a fierce and dominant female werewolf. Her unyielding determination to become the alpha of her pack, the Gravemaw Hounds. However, her aspirations are cut short when shortly after becoming the Beta, Alpha Boris Gravemaw demotes her and forces her as his Luna. The night of the highly anticipated Moon Goddess' Ball, Wilhelmina's world is turned upside down when she discovers that Antonio Lothian, the Lycan Prince, is her destined mate.

Kate Jones was a beautiful and strong girl. Her father beat her a lot because he blamed the death of Kate's mother on the poor girl, but she survived it. She didn't know it was not her biological father until she was 18, and her real father was killed when her mother was pregnant with her. She was devastated. But what her stepfather told her was only a tip of the iceberg. Her real identity was a werewolf! She didn't know that until she met her mate, Caesar Edwards, the Alpha of Silvermoon Crest. Kate feared wolf because she witnessed her mother being killed by a wolf when she was a kid. Kate didn't believe that she was actually one of them. But Caesar's love moved her. She finally decided to accept the truth and embrace her werewolf identity. She thought she would shift into the wolf shape on her birthday successfully. But weeks before Kate's birthday, she was threatened by her rival's mother and had to leave Caesar. Then her nightmare began... What happened to Kate later after she left Caesar? Would Kate welcome the she-wolf successfully on her birthday? And when would Kate find that she had the strongest and purest bloodline of werewolf? Would Kate and Caesar live happily after?

As the youngest daughter of the powerful mafia family, the Blythes, I was spoiled the moment I was born. I had three older brothers who adored me. When I turned eighteen, our father was killed in a turf fight. The shock sent our mother into a rapid decline, and she passed away less than a week later. To avenge our father, my three brothers waged war against our enemies for three days. Though they emerged victorious, all three were critically wounded. My eldest brother, Damon Blythe, suffered a ruptured liver and was on the brink of death. Matt Blythe, my second brother, had severe kidney damage. Chris Blythe had lost too much blood and went into heart failure. I spent a fortune hiring the world’s top surgeons. They transplanted half of my liver to Damon, a kidney to Matt, and even gave my heart to Chris, replacing mine with a mechanical one. Thanks to the doctors’ skill, all three survived and went on to take over the Blythes’ empire. Five years later, they became infatuated with Sophia Foster, a poor but strong-willed intern. They even forced me to give up my last kidney to her. It was only after I had died on the operating table that they regretted what they had done.