Brilliant Brin

After my hundredth disastrous blind date, my best friend and I made a bold decision: we would have children without husbands. She chose sperm from a brilliant PhD donor. I chose a donor with an eight-nation mixed heritage. Later, the PhD donor from Kingsford University was diagnosed with low sperm motility and decided he wanted to marry my friend, Melissa Shaw. She agreed. Whenever she saw me going to my prenatal checkups alone, Melissa would wrap her arm around her husband and mock me. "You're destined to be alone," she sneered. "You can't even find a man to marry you. My husband just launched a major national research project. His future is limitless." What she did not know was that the father of my child was the Prince of Dubaria. He took me back to his country and made me his princess. The jewels I wore were so heavy they practically weighed me down. However, after she saw the yacht I posted on social media, Melissa suddenly called me in tears. "I don't know what happened," she sobbed. "My husband's project was suddenly suspended. We can barely afford baby formula for our child." She said she wanted to make up and even asked if I would be her child’s godmother. However, the moment I stepped through her door, she raised a chainsaw and hacked me to death. "Why do you get to live a better life than me?" she screamed. "Just because you chose better sperm?!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my best friend and I first decided to have children without husbands.

Victor Gunner, my husband, is a man of his prime - wealthy, attractive and the brilliant CEO of Gunner Holdings, Inc. with stakes in the aviation and maritime industries. People often question why he married me because it was certainly not a love match nor was it a union of convenience. I believe it was because Victor felt ready and I was available. When I accepted his proposal, I naively thought my love was big enough for the two of us until he proved me wrong. Three years and our marriage began to crumble. For one, I can’t give him an heir. Then came Victor’s past love with a child in tow. A child who looks strangely like my husband. For the first time in years, I saw excitement filling Victor’s eyes. He dotes on them, recreating the dream of a perfect family, while I was gradually being cast aside, relegated to watching them enviously on the sidelines. I tried fighting for my place, but how can one fight a battle lost before it has begun? I had no place in his perfect family so when he proposed divorce, I accepted and never looked back. When we met again, I was an emerging heiress divorcee of our time, given countless accolades due to my work with women who underwent trauma in their relationships. It gave me immense satisfaction that for the first time, Victor saw my worth and wanted me back. Unfortunately, he has to fall in line. Three other men want me, too. All are wealthy, attractive and doting not only to me, but to my triplets as well. I watched in amusement how our roles quickly reversed. Now, Victor scrambled to beat all those men. But can he win this fight? Can love bloom beyond goodbye?

Adrian Chen is the golden standard of the marketing world—brilliant, commanding, and emotionally impenetrable. At thirty-two, he's built an empire on control: controlling projects, controlling people, controlling himself. He's never been vulnerable with anyone, and he's never had to be. Eli Reeves is twenty-seven, underestimated, and fighting twice as hard as everyone else to earn respect in an industry that dismissed him the moment he walked in. He's competent, passionate, and invisible to anyone important—until Adrian's firm brings him in as the fresh voice on a multi-million-dollar campaign. Adrian resents him immediately. Eli's creativity clashes with Adrian's rigid strategy. Eli's openness threatens Adrian's carefully constructed emotional distance. And the physical pull Adrian feels toward him is absolutely unacceptable. But forced proximity becomes forced honesty. Arguments become negotiations. Dismissals become defense mechanisms. And when Adrian finally kisses Eli after weeks of suppressed tension, neither of them can pretend anymore. What begins as dangerous attraction becomes something more: Eli's discovery that submitting to Adrian (both in the bedroom and emotionally) is empowering, not diminishing. Adrian's terrifying realization that loving Eli requires surrendering the control he's built his entire identity around. Their secret relationship deepens through escalating intimacy and escalating risk. But when someone in the firm begins sabotaging them—threatening to expose their relationship and destroy Adrian's reputation—they face an impossible choice: separate to protect their careers, or fight together and risk everything they've built. In a relationship where dominance and submission define their passion, Adrian and Eli must learn that true power lies not in control, but in trust. That surrender, when chosen, is the bravest form of strength. And that love worth fighting for is worth burning for.

He pulled his hand from my grip, "What is your problem?" "What is my problem? My problem is the way you were flirting with that guy.” "What I do have nothing to do with you Carlson, you are my boss yes but I'm allowed to hangout around other people and Peter was just being nice." "Nice? You even know his name, why are you so cheap?..." It happened so fast I didn't see it coming all I felt was the stink on my cheeks and the tears in Enzo's eyes. …………….. Carlson Coleman never planned on working for his father's company, but a deal is a deal—he gets everything he wants, or he walks. What he didn’t expect was for “everything” to include Enzo Grey, the quiet, brilliant boy he spent years bullying through high school and college… who also happens to be his new personal assistant. Carlson’s always been drawn to Enzo in ways he couldn’t understand—or admit. Back then, bullying him was the only way Carlson knew to keep him close, to assert control over the chaos Enzo made him feel. But now, years later, the tables have turned. Carlson is the CEO of Coleman Group Ltd., and Enzo is all grown up, confident, and devastatingly off-limits. But some obsessions don’t die. Carlson will do whatever it takes to keep Enzo by his side—this time without the cruelty, without the masks. Only problem? Enzo remembers everything. And forgiveness doesn’t come easy when your past is paved with torment. Now, in the high-rise world of business, boardrooms, and broken trust, Carlson must confront not only his deepest desires but also the man he used to be. Because this time, if he wants Enzo, he’ll have to earn him.

When American engineer Evan Hart arrives in Rome, he expects worn stones, ancient architecture, and a chance to quietly rethink his failing marriage. He doesn’t expect Livia Moretti—the enigmatic archivist whose fragile intensity pulls him into a slow-burning, dangerous affair he never meant to start. Livia is brilliant, secretive, and a little broken… and Evan can’t stay away. But when he finally tells his wife Leah he wants a separation, she collapses, claiming she’s been diagnosed with a devastating neurological disease. Overnight, Evan’s guilt becomes a trap. Then Livia disappears without a trace. Anonymous photographs of him and Livia arrive in the mail. A stranger begins watching his apartment. And Leah—sweet, steady Leah—starts behaving in ways he can’t explain. When Evan finds hidden documents and photographs connecting the two women in his life, he follows a clue to a remote coastal village, where he learns Livia once lived under a different name… and may have been running from something far darker than heartbreak. As Evan digs deeper, he uncovers the edge of a conspiracy built on identity, memory, and manipulation—one determined to keep its secrets buried. Someone is pulling strings. Someone is rewriting the truth. And someone wants Evan to stop asking questions. Caught between a wife he no longer understands and a lover who may not be who she claimed to be, Evan is forced to confront the one question he never thought to ask: If the women in his life are wearing borrowed identities… then who has been shaping his? In a story of seduction, deception, and emotional obsession, All the Names She Wore explores the dangerous terrain between love and control—and what happens when the truth becomes the most terrifying lie of all.

My sister, Bella, had a baby in a back-alley shithole. Then she disappeared. A midwife tracked me down using an address Bella left behind. She shoved the newborn at me like a sack of garbage. My parents fell to their knees. Crying. Begging me to take her bastard. Just like that, my future as a promising artist was gone. The neighbors, the priest, my landlord… they all called me a whore. A sinner who had disgraced God. They ran me out of the neighborhood . My life was over. Eighteen years later, Bella waltzed back into my life. A cheap thug with a fake Rolex dangled from her arm. She held my son, crocodile tears streaming down her face. She called me jealous. Accused me of stealing her flesh and blood. Of keeping a mother from her child. And my son? The one I bled myself dry for? The son I poured every last cent into, turning him into a brilliant painter? The son I starved for, so much that I ended up in a hospital bed? The moment he saw his "real" mother, he cast me aside without a second thought. "You pathetic, broke bitch!" he spat. "You stole everything from us! All the happiness that was supposed to be ours!" My parents threw me out like a dog. Bella's thug husband had his men corner me in the red-light district. They pinned me against a wall, their threats vile and clear: Never come back. I had no way out. I threw myself off the Brooklyn Bridge. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back. Eighteen years in the past. Then came the knock. Hell had found my door. I wasn’t going to be the fool who gave everything and got nothing. This time, I took control.

Zara Storme was the ghost in the machine at Sterling Global. For three years, she wasn’t just Mark Sterling’s fiancée she was The Architect. The unseen force who patched his weaknesses, outplayed his rivals, and quietly engineered a billion-dollar empire while he collected the applause. Then, over an elegant dinner, Mark slid a severance check across the table instead of a ring. To him, Zara was indispensable but temporary. Brilliant, yes. Loyal, certainly. But she lacked the pedigree required for his permanent throne. So he chose optics over love, trading her for a strategic merger and a well-bred socialite. Mark expected tears. Begging. A woman unraveling. What he didn’t know was that abandonment had trained Zara long before him. Her father had taught her the art of leaving without looking back. Fueled by a quiet rage, Zara committed one final act of treason which was leaking Mark’s most valuable upcoming deals to his greatest rival, Asher Vane. It was meant to be her clean exit. Then fate intervened. She was pregnant. Five years later, Zara returns to the city reborn as the formidable CEO of Lucent Capital. No longer the woman behind the throne, she is the throne. A venture-capital titan whose influence eclipses every man who once dismissed her. At her side is Luca her five-year-old masterpiece. Disciplined. Brilliant. And unmistakably the son of the man who walked away. When Mark Sterling’s empire begins to collapse under the weight of its own lies, desperation drives him to seek salvation from a firm powerful enough to save him. He comes to the boardroom expecting mercy. Instead, he finds Zara Storme seated at the head of the table untouchable, and finally holding his fate in her hands. This time, she’s here to watch it burn.

My fated mate, Sebastian Grant, was the most brilliant healer on the continent. Specializing in treating wolfsbane, he had saved countless of our kind. To everyone else, he was a miracle walking among us. But he had a childhood friend and fellow apprentice, Sabrina Jordan. If Sebastian was famous for curing poison, then Sabrina was infamous for creating it. For years, she studied toxins while he developed antidotes. They worked so closely together that the pack slowly stopped distinguishing danger from jokes. That was until the day she tested a new kind of wolfsbane on me and I almost died. When I woke up, Sebastian was sitting beside my bed, writing a prescription for me. "Christina, don't blame Sabrina. My mentor and I have spoiled her. She knew I'd be able to cure you, so she was just messing around. She never meant to hurt you." He said it so casually, as if I had caught a cold. Not as if my organs had been failing and I had been a breath away from death. Before I could respond, someone burst into the room shouting that Sabrina had poisoned herself. Sebastian stood up and rushed out at once, his steps hurried and almost frantic. He never noticed that my prescription was missing a key herb. Just like that, the antidote that was supposed to save me became a poison that quietly sped up my death. That was when the Moon Goddess spoke inside my mind. [You can only return to the human world if you die at the hands of your fated mate. But are you sure you want this?] I lowered my gaze to the prescription in my hand, the ink still fresh. Sebastian himself had written it. The same hands that saved countless lives had just written the final prescription that would end mine. "I'm sure," I whispered.

Cracking His Code is a dark MM romance for readers who like their love stories dangerous, their heat explicit, and their anti-heroes completely, catastrophically gone for each other. Oliver Blaese has two rules. Never get caught, and never let anyone have the upper hand. He broke the first one the second he hacked a corrupt senator’s private server and downloaded a ledger tying him to a global human trafficking ring. Now half the billionaires in the world are trying to put him in a body bag. He needed a shield. So he hired Kirill Nikolaev. That was his second mistake. Kir is a Russian assassin who kills people for a living. He also possesses a calm that feels less like patience and more like a loaded weapon pointed directly at Oliver's self-control. While bouncing between European safe houses, systematically assassinating the syndicate's architects before they can find them, Oliver realizes Kir is the first person who's ever looked at him like he knows exactly what he needs. And what Oliver needs, it turns out, is someone who doesn't ask. Someone who takes. What starts as forced proximity becomes something neither of them immediately understand. Something that lives in the space between command and surrender. Between a punishment deferred and a promise kept. Oliver hates how much he wants to kneel. He hates, even more, that Kir already knows it. This is a story about two men finding, in each other, exactly what they didn't know they were missing. One a natural dominant who's never wanted anything this badly, the other a brilliant, defiant brat who's never trusted anyone enough to let go. Until now.

She hides behind ugly suits and fake names. He's done trusting women. When they meet in a masked sex club, neither realizes they've been fighting each other across boardroom tables for eighteen months. At Taylor Industries, she's Joy Smith—the frumpy CFO who drowns her curves in shapeless polyester and wearing a wig. At home, she's the forgotten wife of a cheating lawyer who hasn't touched her in so long she's starting to wonder if she's broken. When she finds hot pink lace panties stuffed in her couch cushions...definitely not hers, it's not heartbreak she feels. It's freedom. Grayson Taylor doesn't do relationships anymore. Not after walking in on his actress fiancée with another woman. Now he channels everything into hostile takeovers and board meetings, especially the ones where his overcautious CFO fights him on every goddamn acquisition. Joy Smith is brilliant, infuriating, and funny when he pushes all her buttons. But Honey is tired of being invisible. Tired of never having felt real pleasure. So, when her best friend gives her the details of The Velvet Room—Manhattan's most exclusive masked club—she promises herself just one night. One night to find out if her husband's right, if she really is frigid, or if she's just never been touched by the right hands. She doesn't expect the masked stranger who claims her the second she walks in. Doesn't expect the chemistry that ignites between them, the way he makes her body sing, or the orgasms that leave her shaking. Doesn't expect him to hand her an email address with one command: "Only me. No one else touches you."