Diary Of An Oxygen Thief Author

Part OneFirefighter Kristi Gregory was just enjoying an evening off in everyone’s favorite hangout, sipping her beer, when hot cop Patrick Hayes walked in. They’d just worked a disaster together that very day, and he was not only professional but one very hot cop. Patrick had eyes on Kristi but was still trying to prove himself at his new precinct. But when danger brings a sexy firefighter and a hot cop together, it’s incendiary.Part TwoMisa turned hot and bothered when sexy firefighter Sam Braddock moved into the house next door. she could hardly get him out of her mind. Who wouldn’t want to do everything with a six-foot-four blond hunk with sculpted muscles that didn’t come from any gym, and a smile that made her panties wet? He was the stuff any woman’s dreams were made of. And she had a problem. And she wanted to have hot, sweaty, off-the-wall sex with her neighbor, king of the alphas. When he agreed to be interviewed for hew newspaper, neither of them expected the hot inferno that would explode between them.Incendiary is created by Desiree Holt, an EGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

"You do know what your scent does to me?" Stefanos whispered, his voice brushing against Xenia’s skin like a dark promise. "W-what?" she stammered, heart pounding as the towering wolf closed in. "It drives me wild." —★— A cursed Alpha. A runaway Omega. A fate bound by an impossible bloom. Cast out by his own family, Alpha Stefanos dwells in a lonely tower, his only companion a fearsome dragon. To soothe his solitude, he cultivates a garden of rare flowers—until a bold little thief dares to steal them. Furious, Stefanos vows to punish the culprit. But when he discovers the thief is a fragile Omega with secrets of her own, something within him stirs. Her presence thaws the ice in his heart, awakening desires long buried. Yet destiny has bound them to an impossible task—to make a cursed flower bloom. Can he bloom a flower that can't be bloomed, in a dream that can't come true? ----- Inspired from the BTS song, The Truth Untold.

“Call me Daddy.” I froze at that, my throat drying instantly. My dick jumped, hardening as that word settled in. “What? You don't want to?” He frowned. “Don't you want to be my baby boy? To be taken care of? Don't you want Daddy to show you how good with his hand he is?” “I…” I swallowed. “I want it.” So fucking bad. “Then say it. Tell me what you want Daddy to do for you, and he will.” I bit my lower lip, thinking of it before I whispered, “Stroke my cock, Daddy.” …. Will the truth make or mar their union? Asher knew it was against his work ethic to fall for his younger employee, but he couldn't help it. Each interaction with Guel leaves him panting, wanking to the thoughts and gripped by a forbidden desire, one he was scared to act on. What he didn't know was that beneath the exterior calmness Guel showed, was a devil out to drag his pet back to the pits of hell where they belong...

My daughter unplugs my oxygen tube before throwing herself into her nanny's arms. "The old hag is finally dying, Mom. I don't need to call a thief my mother anymore!" It turns out the nanny switched my child for hers when they were born. I've spent the last two decades doting on the nanny's daughter. I die of an aneurysm after recalling my birth daughter's horrible death. When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the day my daughter was born.

At ten years old, I watched my mom jump to her death in a rainstorm. That same night, my dad brought home a glamorous woman and her nine-year-old daughter. I had feared and hated rainy days since then. My husband once helped me face that childhood trauma, staying by my side through every storm and promising, "Don't worry, Lena, you'll never face your fears alone." But when I refused to pick up his new assistant, he abandoned me on a highway in pouring rain, saying, "Marie is your sister, and you left her out there? Walk home!" That night, the rain never stopped, and I walked thirteen hours along a dark, endless road. That was when I decided I was done with him.

On New Year's Eve, I prepare a feast. The clock strikes twelve, but my husband, Vincent Porter, still isn't home. My daughter, Lorelei Porter, tugs at my sleeve and holds up my phone. "Look Mommy, Daddy is at this lady's house!" Vincent has posted an update on Twitter. He is with Christine Snow, his childhood sweetheart. They are smiling at the camera, with a boy who looks about ten standing between them. In front of them sits a swan-shaped cake. The caption reads, "The most special day for the most special you." My heart sinks into my stomach. A marriage that came later in life can never compete with a pair of childhood sweethearts. I accept defeat.

There was a ten-year gap between me and my sister-in-law, but we got along surprisingly well, especially given that we were both in an absurdly rich family. Then, one day, she came to me, bawling and clutching a photo in her hand. "Your brother is cheating on me! He has a family somewhere else! For more than ten years! I'm getting a divorce!" Crying, I showed her a message I got from my husband's mistress. "That bastard Christopher has a mistress! I'm leaving this home!"

At the company's celebration dinner, the new HR guy slapped a bill on the table—$860 for A/C and venue costs from our last all-nighter. I shot a look at Sherry—my girlfriend, my boss—thinking she'd have my back. Nope. She latched onto HR's arm and said, "Quentin, this isn't your daddy's company. Quit freeloading." And just like that, nine years of busting my ass for this company, and turns out—I was the discount item on the menu.

My boyfriend, Harvey Seinfeld, got diagnosed with cancer and needed a liver transplant. When I found out I was a match, I didn't think twice. Two-thirds of my liver—gone. The pain was brutal. As soon as I came to, I dragged myself to his room. Right before I walked in, I heard him laughing with his friends. "Harvey, you're a genius for coming up with such an epic revenge plan." He snorted. "If I didn't have to keep it low-key, I would've taken a kidney just for fun. "It's her fault Vivi bombed her art exam and had to study abroad. Vivi's coming back next month. That's when I'll be done with her for good."

I had always shared a perfect relationship with my mother-in-law, Betsy Dutton. We were the model pair of a wealthy family. She and my father-in-law, Rourke Dutton had been childhood sweethearts, their bond seemingly unbreakable. But one day, she told me something that changed my entire perception of them.  She clutched my hand and tears were streaming down her face. “Naomi,” she sobbed, “your father-in-law… he’s been keeping a mistress. They even have a child together! “For over ten years, I’ve been in the dark, made into a laughingstock!” My throat tightened, and I couldn’t hold back my own confession.  “Mom, actually… Julius is no better. He bought a whole apartment building for his mistress!” We wept in each other’s arms, our heartbreak spilling out in waves.  After what felt like an eternity, she sniffled and straightened herself. “Men are utterly unreliable creatures!” “I’m done with that old man, Naomi!” I gripped her hand tightly. “Mom, wherever you go, I’ll follow. I’m done with Julius, too!”