Cooked Banana Pudding

"She is not property. She is my mate and you will not mention 'her' like you're talking about a burnt banana peel."   My breath hitched.   No one had ever defended me like that.   Not once.   Kael glanced over his shoulder at me, his expression softer now, protective. "But it’s her choice. Not mine. Not yours." .......................................................... At just eighteen, Meeva Vale thought that she had found her fairytale ending, an Omega chosen as Luna by the Alpha of the Sinhound Pack. But six years later, her marriage to Alpha Jared has left her silenced, sacrificed, and stranded in a life that no longer feels her own.   When the powerful Alpha Kael Edgar of the Brawnstorm Pack storms into her territory to confront Jared over a broken trading treaty, everything changes. With a single glance, the bond between Kael and Meeva ignites. But Meeva is already claimed, married even.   But Kael doesn’t give two fucks.   He lays siege to the pack and takes Meeva with him, officially staking his claim as her mate. Her wolf betrays her heart, surrendering to him long before she does. What begins as a sinful passion quickly transforms into a deeper whirlpool.   With a dark sorcerer on their tail, their story is about to take a very unnerving turn.  

My husband Norman had always hated how his childhood friend Julia clung to him no matter the occasion. He even cut her off for my sake. One morning, I woke up and realized that I had mysteriously swapped bodies with Julia. I wanted to find my husband and figure out what to do, fearing he'd turn me away because of Julia's appearance. I cooked up a hundred explanations in my head until I finally arrived at our home. When Norman opened the door and saw me, he frowned and quickly shut the door, pushing me away. Just as I was about to explain that I wasn't Julia, he suddenly pulled me into his arms. "What are you doing here? Can't stand being apart from me for even two days, huh?"

For three long years, Kiara played the role of a good, quiet wife. She cooked, she waited, and she hoped her billionaire husband, Aryan Singhania, would finally look at her. But he didn't. He hated her. When his first love came back to the city, Aryan didn't waste a single second. He threw the divorce papers right on the dinner table. "I want you out of my house," he told her. He thought Kiara would cry and beg. Instead, she just smiled, signed the papers, and walked out into the night. Aryan thought his boring wife would end up on the streets crying for money. He had no idea who she really was. Kiara is not a poor orphan. She is the hidden boss of the Rathore family—the richest family in the country. Now she is back on her throne. And soon, Aryan will realize he made the biggest mistake of his life. But it's too late for sorry.

Why is the world so cruel?” Nora had spent fifteen years of her life being the perfect daughter, obedient, loyal, and silent. She cooked, cleaned, and sacrificed her dreams to please her father, believing love was something she could earn through pain. But on the day of the will reading, her world shattered. Every property, every piece of her father’s empire, was left to her younger sister. All Nora got was a letter with three empty words: “Forgive me, Nora.” With nowhere to go and nothing to live for, she finds herself entangled with Adrian Cole, the city’s most arrogant billionaire playboy, a man known for breaking hearts, not healing them. He’s everything she swore to avoid: proud, dangerous, and emotionally untouchable. But when their paths collide, secrets unfold, secrets that link their families, their pain, and their pasts in ways neither expected. What starts as a cruel game of seduction soon turns into a storm of emotions neither of them can control. He played her heart... Until he realized she was the only one who could break his.

During a family dinner, I, Ingrid Sutherland, bring up divorce. My husband, Samuel Ziegler, lets out a cold laugh in exasperation. "Are you mad just because I peeled a banana for Whitney two days ago? I can't believe you're still throwing a tantrum over that now! She's my sister-in-law. What's wrong if I show her a little bit more care?" He did the same thing in my past life. Ever since his older brother, Charles Ziegler, got seriously hurt, Samuel always put me last and prioritized taking care of the supposedly weaker Whitney Lovette. Whenever I voiced my dissatisfaction, he would criticize me while standing on an irrefutable moral high ground. He would say, "Why can't you be more understanding and cut Whitney some slack?" When it was Whitney's birthday, she proposed going on a skiing trip. But then, an avalanche hit us. Samuel protected her the whole time and led her down the mountain. However, he left me to die in the avalanche. It was then I realized that Whitney was not just his sister-in-law, but also the one he loved. When I remain silent, Samuel chuckles derisively. "You'd better not regret it." It's like he's sure I'm just throwing a tantrum. In one fluid movement, he glides a pen across the bottom of the page, confident and composed. But this time, I'm really giving up on him for good.

On the fourth day after my son's death, I decided to secretly dissolve my military marriage with my husband. Before that, I had three days to settle everything for my son. On the first day, I tricked my husband into signing the cremation papers. On the second day, I went to the school and collected the textbooks my son would never get to use. On the third day, I cooked a table full of dishes and begged my husband to celebrate our son's last birthday. He agreed, but soon after claimed he had a mission. Instead, he spent the entire night setting off fireworks with his childhood sweetheart. That night, I cooked. Then, I sat alone before my son's photo and ate all my son's favorite foods. The next day, my husband returned, guilt flickering in his eyes as he handed me a brand-new backpack. He said it was a gift for our child's first day of school. But he didn't know—our child would never have a first day of school.

I'm the Whitefang Pack Alpha's daughter. Thanks to Samzor—Alpha of Nightfang and my so-called betrothed—I got shoved into a mate bond with a limp rogue. He sold out three generations of Nightfang war honors just to make it happen. Dad lost it. He went straight to Nightfang territory, demanding answers. Samzor? He laughed. "Alpha Connor, come on. Nyara's your heir. You'd never let her actually mate a cripple. "I've loved her for seven years. I'd never mistreat her. I just need her to compromise—let Catherine stay with me. "Don't stress. Catherine's obedient. Polite. She'll make a good servant for Nyara." Catherine. A fox-wolf halfblood he dragged in from a border patrol. Scared I'd kick her out the second our bond was sealed, he cooked up this garbage plan to trap me. Only problem? The Alpha King's decree doesn't do take-backs. Mom handled the dowry. I'd go through with the ceremony. Bond to that rogue. After that? Samzor was dead to me.

Georgia Brooks, the notorious, troublesome tomboy is the caretaker of Clark Brown, the mysterious, cold man who is an undercover billionaire. Georgia's motive is to uncover him and just make him happy. But what when secrets are revealed and the badass tomboy is close to tears? Join them on this rocky road of adventures which includes their occasional fights and revenge, stolen kisses, trip to a circus, journey to England, landing in jail and much more! Excerpt from a chapter : His lips curled in disdain and just when he was about to unwrap the towel, I quickly turned around showing my back to him. What the fucking hell? What if I saw his thing? "Don't you care? Like honestly, couldn't you just order like your usual self to get the hell out of your bedroom or just . . . turn around for you to change? You could have at least warned me that you were freeing your willy, I would have closed my eyes!" I rambled and felt myself feeling all jittery again. He didn't reply and I could mentally picture him scoffing or rolling his pretty eyes. A part of me which never saw a grown man's buddy down there was curious as to how it looked. Was it really long and monstrous like a huge sausage they describe in erotic scenes? Was it soft like a banana or hard like a radish? Was is it like spring that when you poke it, it would go wagging like a dog's tail? A teeny little peek would do no harm . . .

Misty I looked at the faces of my pups on the screen, being away from them was so hard but I had to make it better. I had to provide for them. Give them the best chance I could as a single uneducated Mother. They'd had such a crap start to life, mostly my own fault because if I hadnt stayed when he continued to allow the alcohol to become him, they wouldnt have been through the hell, but then if I hadnt stayed they all wouldnt exist and i dont regret any of them, No matter how they were conceived. My Life, My Legacy, My loves. I listened to them tell me about all their adventures and the feasts they ate from banana leaves. Id put out an ad searching for somebody to take care of them while I worked, somebody to love them and assure them i wasnt abandoning them just trying to make things better. Id found those angels, theyd accepted accomodation food and utilities in exchange for making sure my pups were fed, clean and cared for. I thanked the driver for the ride and entered the roadhouse, passed all the food that made my stomach rumble from its 48 hour emptiness, made use of the amenities and headed out back to try and get another ride north that would hopefully take me all the way back to my pups. I took a seat at an empty table, aware of the fact i hadnt showered in 3 days, I kept my eyes down and avoided contact listening for conversation that would point me to a driver heading north. That was the beginning of the rest of my life.

On the night of our eighth anniversary, I cooked everything Ethan loved. He didn't come home. I sat alone at the table until the food went cold. Then I did what I always did. I opened Selene's profile on the pack network. New post. One hour ago. A photo of Ethan, shirtless, building a fire in her den. Her hand on his shoulder. Her face turned toward the camera with a smile that showed too many teeth. The caption read: Grateful for old friends who drop everything when you need them. Even their marking anniversaries. I stared at it until my eyes burned. Then I liked it. Filed the bond-dissolution request. And started packing the trunk I'd kept ready for months. Ethan didn't believe it when he found out. "She's throwing a fit," I heard he told his packmates. "Give her three days." "I'll crook my finger and she'll come running back." "She always does." What he didn't understand was why I always came back. It was because I loved him. That was gone now.