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“Why didn’t you tell me you are the mother of my kids, Emma?” His countenance is soft but stern. “It was a contract.” My voice falters. He didn’t choose fatherhood. She didn’t choose him. But destiny and betrayal leave them with no choice at all. Billionaire Alexander Willoughby built his empire on control. Then his grandparents stole his DNA to create the heir he never asked for. Betrayed and furious, Alexander vowed never to be manipulated again. Emma Johnson thought the surrogacy contract was simple: carry a baby, save her mother, keep her sister in school, and walk away. She never planned to meet the children she birthed. She never planned to fall in love with them—or with their father. Now, as the nanny to twins Bernard and Bernice, Emma’s secret has exploded. Alexander feels deceived. Emma feels cornered. And circling them both is Sophia, Alexander’s ex and Emma’s stepsister, who is determined to tear them apart and claim the life she thinks she deserves. Neither planned this bond. Neither wanted these stakes. But the twins they share will tie them together in ways neither can escape. When secrets ignite, pride shatters, and desire grows impossible to resist, walking away may no longer be an option. A story of power, betrayal, sacrifice and a love neither of them saw coming.

The first born son of the Laird to the largest clan on the boarder is one of three identical triplets. But nobody really knows which one was born first! So who will rule? The king will decide. Or will he? To keep peace in the highlands and unite the boarder lands the king feels all three men must have a clan to rule. Since all three are unwed, he chooses brides for them that will result in each of the triplets having a clan to rule and a wife to create heirs with. Assuming the laird named his first son after himself, the king weds Griogair to the second daughter of the clan to the west. He and Eliana would stay on MacInnis land, uniting it through marriage with the MacDonald clan that stretched from their boarder to the west coast. He wed the remaining brothers to clans that had only women as direct heirs. Padraig to the widow Fraiser and Alasdair to the young Isobel whose father owned the land on the east coast. But the men have other ideas. This is a game the men have played since they were small. Padraig tosses a silver coin and his brother's nod, instantly swapping identities as smoothly as taking a step. Will anyone notice they have each chosen their own wife? Just as nobody knows which son was first born, few can tell them apart. Certainly not the emissary or clergy sent by the king! But when the truth comes to light, will it all unravel?

'Gwen pushed him back, trying to create enough space between them. "I do not love you." Alexander smirked. "You do. You just don't know that you do." Gwen moved back. "Do you know the ways of my heart." "Yes, I do. And it tells the truth. You are only too stubborn to acknowledge it." He moved closer, pressing her against the wall. "When you decide to tell yourself the truth, I will be waiting." He kissed her forehead. "But don't make me wait long. I am not as patient as people think." This time he kissed her lips and staked off, leaving Gwen in a complete daze.' Marriage and a family is all life is to Gwen and she would see to it that she is not humiliated before then. A wife, and not a mistress is what she plans to be, but what can be done when the king of her country makes a proposal to put her by his side? Alexander is used to getting what he wants and getting his way, after all, he is King. But when he sets his eyes on the young and beautiful Guinevere who is just as stubborn as he is, will making her stay at the castle earn him her love, or will it be the beginning of his undoing? (Hating Her King is the sequel to Loving Her Duke and is also the second book of the British Blood Trilogy.)

Harlow Vance has spent twenty four years feeling invisible. Her younger brother is the success story, the one her father brags about, the one who can do no wrong. Desperate to feel something, to feel wanted, she decides to lose her virginity. Not to some boy her age who will fumble and forget her by morning, but to a man. A dominant she has been chatting with online for weeks, someone who calls her a brat and makes her pulse race with every message. She agrees to meet him at Radiant, an exclusive BDSM club in Pittsburgh. She uses a fake name. She plans for one night, nothing more. But when the door opens, it is not a stranger staring down at her. It is Kael Hawthorne. Her father's best friend. Her father's business partner. The man she has been secretly aching for since she was old enough to notice the way his gaze lingered on her a moment too long. Kael should push her away. He should call Julian and tell him his daughter is in a place she does not belong. Instead, he pulls her into the room and shuts the door. But secrets have a way of slithering out. And when Julian walks into Radiant and finds his daughter on her knees for his best friend, everything Harlow has built with Kael threatens to shatter. What do you think will happen? Read to find out!

"Ahhhh," I moaned into the pillow, not wanting the neighbors to hear as they would immediately tell Mom about it. "Ahhhh," this time it came out louder as I felt a shockwave of ectasy and satisification go through my body. This was the best feeling ever. Suddenly, a gentle night breeze blew through my open window, My curtains fluttered open, and I looked up to find myself face to face with those breathtaking green eyes, they were like two emeralds glittering from his dark room, it was like they could see right through my soul, Aamon Blackwood!!! My heart skipped a beat as our eyes met across the distance. I felt a wave of panic wash over me. Had he seen everything? I tried to sit up, to cover myself, but it was too late. My bully, step brother had just seen me pleasuring myself! Gosh! * * * Haven is a simple wolf human hybrid girl living her simple life, she likes to publish erotic novel online under a hidden name. She secretly has been crushing on the ice hockey captain Ryder since they were in highschool but she has never gathered the guys to tell him. One day, her annoying stepbrother, Aamon discovers her secret and blackmails her into becoming his "servant". Will they keep their relationship strictly just slave and master? Or will they break all boundaries and fall into temptation?

After I dropped out of school, my parents didn't pressure me to do anything. But Nicole Hicks kept calling nonstop. She was my boyfriend's childhood friend who had established a reputation as a genius. I was too busy helping out in the fields, growing vegetables, and splashing around in the creek, living my best carefree life. Writing code wasn't even on my mind. In my past life, she had turned in a project just one day before I did. Her codes were exactly the same as mine. Everyone called me a fraud and said I had stolen it. I tried to explain, but no one believed me. Later, she even did a livestream, accusing me online of being a school bully. People went wild. They didn't just come for me—they went after my whole family. Some obsessed troll chased my parents in a car, and they died in a crash. I couldn't take it anymore. I jumped off a high-rise, my eyes still wide open, refusing to accept the way it all ended. Even in my last moment, I couldn't figure it out. That code was mine. My hard work. So how did she manage to post it before me? When I opened my eyes again, I was back, right before everything fell apart.

My husband's ex, Sarah Miller, once ditched him to chase a rich guy. When she came back, she was crippled, dragging along two scrawny kids. The day I found out I was pregnant, Jake Carter demanded a divorce. "Sarah is too weak to manage alone, and her kids need someone. I've got to step up," he said. I nodded calmly and went straight to the hospital for an abortion. In my past life, I fought to keep the baby and refused the divorce, even exposing Sarah's dirty secrets to the world. Her reputation was ruined. She became a pariah, and eventually, she took her kids and ended it all. In her blood-soaked suicide note, she blamed me for driving her to despair. Thus, Jake hated me to the core. He hired thugs to assault me, posted the video online, and spread lies that I was a cheater. In the end, he threw me and our child into the sea. As I died, he snarled, "This is what you get for killing Sarah!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day he demanded a divorce. This time, I agreed on the spot. Jake was thrilled, dreaming of winning Sarah back. What he didn't know was that, in my past life, I uncovered why Sarah was dumped. Her private life was a mess, and she caught AIDS.

My wife, Charlene Everett, and I used to work in the same hospital. I was known for being a kind doctor as well as a passionate teacher, while she was known for being a smart, fiery, and protective professional. All was well for the both of us until Charlene started caring about a clumsy trainee doctor called Zachary Wordsworth. I underestimated their relationship until the day he made a grave medical error, and she threw me to the wolves to protect him from his own mistakes. Indeed, Zachary cut a patient's womb out of her body mistakenly. The patient committed suicide not long after finding out. To avoid him being disciplined by the hospital, Charlene had the nurse in charge modify the records to have me as the surgery’s lead doctor. The patient’s family thought I was the one at fault and sued me. Everyone cursed me for being an unqualified doctor. Netizens made a huge ruckus online and started pressuring the hospital director to fire me. Helpless and in pain, I confronted Charlene, but she casually said, “Zach can’t handle the responsibility of failing the surgery. You’re more experienced, so you’ll be able to weather this storm.” When I later stumbled upon Charlene tangled up with Zachary, I could only let out a bitter laugh. I thus decided it was time for me to stop being kind.

From the time I could count coins, my parents hammered one lesson home—if a boy did not start saving young, he would never have enough to win himself a wife. They opened a bank account in my name, vowing that money would only ever flow in, never out. And so, every birthday bill and crumpled allowance found a home in that card. I kept funneling every hard-earned paycheck into that same old account even after I moved to the city to chase my own future. At that point, that habit was done more out of reflex than reason. However, I was blindsided by acute kidney failure after years of working myself to the bone. Suddenly, that money was not just savings—it was my lifeline. My dad's voice trembled on the phone. He claimed he had forgotten the password and urged me to just take out an online loan for now. I hauled myself to the bank, my feet still shaky from my dialysis treatment. I clutched my ID, determined to file a loss report and reset the password myself. The teller's words froze me in place. "Sir, this account was emptied six months ago." Panic surged through me. I demanded a full printout of every transaction. The statement of the most recent transfer glared up at me from the paper, stating, "Wedding fund for our precious daughter, Natalia Callahan, plus the down payment for her luxury car."

Liam Dunlap, my girlfriend's junior apprentice, bragged that he could defuse a bomb with one hand. Then he slipped. The timer began to race. Terrified, he dropped his tools and ran. I stepped in at great risk and saved the hostage. For that, I was commended. Liam, on the other hand, was condemned across the internet and faced severe disciplinary action. My girlfriend tried to speak up for him, but I stopped her. "If you defend him now, not only will your promotion be revoked—people online will come after you too." Later, unable to bear the pressure, Liam jumped to his death. Every line of his suicide note blamed my girlfriend for not standing by him. She said nothing. She simply burned the letter in silence. After that, she rose step by step from a frontline officer to a model figure in the police force. On the day I was kidnapped by criminals, she came in person to defuse the bomb strapped to me—using only one hand. She looked coldly at the device on my chest and said, "See? It can be done with one hand. Why did you all have to drive Liam to his death back then? If I had protected him at the time, the one in my position today… should have been him." The bomb detonated. I died on the spot. After I opened my eyes again, I saw her running around desperately for Liam. She didn't know—the hostage was the mayor's son.