Barely Working

Eleanor Heather enjoys her ordinary life, working as an accountant, repaying student loans, and living in an apartment with her best friend, Lana. However, one night, a strange man attacked and bit her, leaving her traumatized and afraid to go out alone. Little did she know, this incident was just the beginning of a life-altering journey. When she crossed paths with Nicholas Shaw, a lawyer and owner of the firm she audited, her life took a drastic turn. Despite dark secrets surrounding Nicholas, Eleanor couldn't help but be drawn to him, and Nicholas Shaw was determined not to let her go.

Leah Culverton – Shannon Rivers’ roommate and fiercely loyal best friend. A stubbornly independent and free-spirited soul, Leah takes orders from no one, least of all a bossy FBI man…no matter how attractive she finds him… Larry Fuller – The FBI agent working to bring down a huge money laundering operation. With Shannon Rivers in harm’s way, it’s his job to make sure she’s safely hidden until the bad guys can be caught. But he has his hands (and his heart) full when he meets her feisty roommate, Leah.

According to legend, she has a duty to perform, and to do so, she must live in the human world, but on her own terms! Her name is Megan Trainor, a werewolf. A status that was transmitted to her through a simple bite. Haunted by hundreds of humans, but never to be caught. And slowly, she will infect them, while the police do nothing. Zain Adolphus on the other hand was a born werewolf. He's a billionaire working at Ocean Academy, a gymnasium academy. He is destined to help Megan fulfill her duty in the human world. How will they work together to conquer the human world when both do not see eye to eye?

My neighbor abandoned her cat, so I took it in. It never warmed up to me, but never stopped meowing at my husband. I grew suspicious. One night, my husband claimed to be working late. I knocked on the neighbor’s door. She stroked her slightly rounded belly. “Ms. Hill, what brings you here so late?” Her eyes gleamed with defiance and smugness. Something clicked. I understood everything. When my husband crept home at dawn, he found both sets of parents waiting. A divorce agreement lay on the coffee table.

Mitzy Damon is 17 and still doesn’t have the ability to shift to her werewolf form. Being a part of the most powerful pack in the world does not make her life any easier. She does not fit in and hardly has any friend, expect for her adoptive brother, Toby. Expecting to end up working a 9 to 5 job along with the humans after her high school graduation, she has fully accepted her unfortunate fate. But then suddenly Alpha Flynn walked into her life. With his dominance and charm, he turns the life of the wolfless girl upside down.

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.

"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.

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."

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."

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."