Dilophosaurus Sound

Luke moved then. Fast. Too fast. One second he was across the room, the next he was in front of her, towering over her like a wall of heat and fury. His hands came up, gripping her arms not gently, not cruelly, but with a force that said he was one second from shattering. “You think I don’t fight for you every damn day?” His voice was low, dangerous, vibrating with something raw. “You think I don’t take bullets for you behind the scenes? Every single move I make is to keep you breathing, Abigail. So don’t you dare stand there and act like I’m doing nothing.” Her breath hitched, but the anger didn’t stop burning. “Then say it to her. Say it to their faces instead of hiding behind silence like a coward!” Something snapped in his eyes then something sharp and blazing. And before Abigail could blink, his mouth was on hers. The kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was a collision hard, punishing, desperate. All the rage, the fear, the need that had been coiling between them exploded like fire. Abigail gasped against him, her hands going up to his chest, meaning to push him away except she didn’t. Just couldn’t. Because the second his tongue slid against hers, the second his body pressed flush against hers, every bone in her body melted. Luke growled low in his throat, a sound that made heat curl deep in her belly. He spun her, slamming her gently but firmly against the wall, his hands framing her face as he devoured her mouth like he’d been starving for years.

" "You will bear my child, whether you like it or not. And if you refuse, I will make sure you suffer in ways you can't even imagine." In a blink of an eye, he had his hand around my neck. "Your silly little words won't stop me from punishing you," he sneered. "In fact, you've just given me another idea on what to do to you." He released his hold on me, and I coughed loudly, gasping for breath. "You should have just killed me, you devil." I managed to say. "You've tested my patience enough!" Seth barked. "I won't be needing this whip anymore, I guess." He threw the whip away, and the sound of it hitting the ground echoed in the room. “I know I said I will give you time to think about my proposal, but I think it's high time we get you to carry my child,” he said, his voice cold and devoid of compassion. ******************* In a world where humanity is on the brink of extinction, Lotus is a human slave who has given up hope. Sold to the ruthless and feared vampire king, Seth, Lotus believes her fate is sealed. But when she discovers that Seth only wants one thing - a child - she realizes that her life might not be as hopeless as she thought. Forced to bear his offspring, Lotus finds herself torn between survival and rebellion. As their relationship grows and passion ignites between them, they must navigate the treacherous waters of a world where danger lurks around every corner. With challenges and threats at every turn, Lotus and Seth must fight for their love and their future, against all odds. This is a story of forbidden love, resilience, and the unbreakable human spirit in a world on the brink of destruction.

BOOK #1 MARINOS' MAYHEM SERIES "I said 'act like my boyfriend' for just five minutes, not 'act like my fucking husband' for the rest of your life!" Adrian Price half-yelled, his fingers curled into a tight fist as he glared at the terrifying, yet super gorgeous man in front of him. Giovanni Marino blinked slowly, taking his time to register every detail of Adrian's figure into his memory, not minding that he was disturbing his work at all. "I don't see a big difference between the two." "Oh, for fuck sake! You're a thug, but surely you're not dumb, are you? Do you not know when to stop?" Adrian scoffed, his anger growing thicker. "Sadly, I don't seem to know what 'stop' means. You made the idea of being someone's boyfriend sound so great now I don't think I wanna stop." Adrian Price knew asking a mobster to fake being his boyfriend would get a lot of unnecessary attention from lustful eyes off him, but what he never knew was that the man he had just picked was no different from the unwanted pests that lingered around him, wanting to have a taste of him. Giovanni Marino enjoyed clubbing as much as he enjoyed killing; however, despite this, he was extremely lonely. Now, the big bad man had found a toy he could play with, and he was having the best fun of his life. Would he ever stop and return to his lonely life? That, he wasn't sure he could do that. Not even when he realized Adrian was his enemy's son. He needed Adrian, either to break him or to make him.

The air in the room was thick as the electric heat of a mistake was in progress. "Yeah, right there... Ah," I gasped, the words catching in my throat. Every sensation was surreal, the sounds of skin slapping. Jayden moved with a raw, desperate energy, his tattooed hands gripping me. He leaned down, his breath hot against my ear, a dark, playful smirk tugging at his lips as sweat shimmered down our bodies "You like that huh?" he murmured, his voice low with a teasing vibration that sent a fresh shiver racing down my spine. "Hmm," I could only moan in response, my eyes fluttering shut as I let the waves of ecstasy pull me under. "What the fuck Is it going on here?" The voice didn't just break the silence; it shattered the room. It was a guttural roar that turned my blood to ice. Jayden scrambled backward, the bed sulking under his sudden movement. "Shit... " he hissed, his face draining of color as he fumbled for his jeans. I felt coldness piercing through my nakedness. My hands shook violently as I reached for my dress, the silk feeling like lead in my fingers. I couldn't lookup. In the doorway stood Richard. He wasn’t shouting anymore, the silence was unbearable. His eyes, usually filled with a composed warmth, were now dark with a devastating betrayal. He looked at Jayden, then his gaze drifted to me half-clothed on his son’s bed. "Lena..." His voice broke. "How could you?" He didn't wait for an answer. There was no explanation needed. Richard bowed his head, his shoulders slumped under the weight of a heartbreak he hadn't seen coming, and turned his back on us. The sound of his retreating footsteps echoed through the hallway.

“How long has this been going on?” Fatima’s voice is steady, almost too steady. Her husband of six years stands there without a hint of shame. “Does it matter, Fatima? Yes, Leslie is pregnant with my child, but nothing is going to change,” he says, annoyed that she dares question him. Her calmness makes him shift, though he refuses to show it. “How. Long?” She repeats slowly, keeping her voice low so she won’t wake their sleeping children. “Three years.” Fatima blinks. “You’ve been cheating on me for half our marriage… with your business partner?” “Lower your voice. Don’t make it sound bad. I’m a man – these things happen.” He even chuckles. “Leslie will be taken care of. You’ll stay the wife, and Leslie and I–” “Will get married,” she cuts in. He stares, thrown off, until she adds, “Top drawer in your office. Divorce papers. Sign them first thing tomorrow.” No tears. No raised voice. No trembling. Just calm finality, and that unsettles him more than anger ever could. “I’m not letting that happen. You’re my wife.” “Ex-wife,” she corrects softly. Before he can react, Fatima pushes her chair back and stands. She doesn’t storm off or slam anything. She simply picks up a magazine from the table and walks out with quiet, controlled steps, far too composed for a woman ending a six-year marriage. And that hits him harder than any shouting would have. No tears. No pleading. No hesitation. Nothing. It wounds his pride. He deserves tears. “Hold on,” he snaps, rising quickly from his seat.

“Maybe I'll come back later. I'm sorry,” I said, tension strangling my voice. “No, please. Stay!” He said in a calm tone. I looked at him hysterically, and, like he had just recognised his own nudity, he smiled confidently. “I'll just put on something if you're uncomfortable.” “Uncomfortable?” I scoffed, trying to sound assuring. “No, I'm not uncomfortable. I've seen a lot of naked boys.” He shot a glance at me, sending a thrill running down my chest. “Boys?” He asked, closing the distance between us. He grabbed my left hand and placed it on his hard breast, his heart beating steady, a stark contrast to mine, which raced like an antelope running from a predator in a jungle. “Well… I've seen a lot of naked boys, but not a naked man…” I whispered softly, gazing and feeling lost in his starry eyes. ******************* Reina Grayson, the wolf-less Alpha's daughter, harbours a dangerous secret: she possesses a silver wolf. If her Pack discovers, she’ll be killed. When Alpha Van Killian, whom she was forced to marry, rejects her for her step-sister, Reina is poisoned and dies. Gifted a second chance by the Moon Goddess, she is reborn as Narah Smith. On her eighteenth birthday, she uncovers her true identity, but she had lost her wolf. She returns to her hometown, now living among her enemies as a common maid. As she navigates her past, she forms a bond with Alpha Van, who believes she’s his second chance mate despite being married to her step-sister. But with a vengeful heart and a determination to uncover the mysteries of her death, Narah must choose: embrace her fated mate or accept Alpha Zander’s proposal? Can she seek revenge on those who wronged her, or will she remain forever in the shadows?

****Excerpt**** “You see yourself as ordinary,” he said softly. “But entire worlds have crumbled and come apart for far less than a woman of your beauty.” He pushed his horn further again, filling her another inch. Her flame flared white-hot behind her ribs. Begging, pleading, clawing. “That’s it, my little whore. You like that, don’t you?” he preened against the corner of her mouth. His voice hit her harder than the horn. Dirty, cruel, worshipful. The word whore sent heat spiralling down her spine, making her clench around the invasion. She hated the word. She loved how he said it. “Please…” She started. He squeezed her throat, cutting off the rest of her words. Her breath hitched violently at the pressure, but she surrendered to the feeling. “Unless you are about to beg me to fuck your ass harder with this horn, I don’t want to hear how you can’t take any more.” He growled, low and threatening. A wave of want crashed into her so hard she whimpered. Adelaide should have been scared. In a way, she was. It wasn’t fear that made her heart pound, it was the terrifying realisation that she wanted exactly what he demanded. She wanted to feel the thickness of his horn deep inside her, wanted the stretch, the pain, the pleasure. She wanted all of what she knew he could give her. She leaned her head back to run her tongue over the seam of his lips. “Fuck me harder.” She said softly, the words barely a whisper. They carried the desperation, surrender, hunger, devotion, need. Her voice trembled with the weight of what she was giving him. Of what she was asking him to do to her. He growled. The sound vibrated through her, deep and possessive.

I knock on the door, heart pounding like it always does when I’m about to see him. “Come in,” Justin’s voice calls—cool, smooth, and frustratingly calm. I take a deep breath and walk in, holding the folder tightly. “Here’s the report you requested, sir.” He doesn’t even glance at me. Just keeps typing, his expression unreadable. “You’re late,” he says without missing a beat. I clench my jaw. “There was a delay at the printer—” “No excuses, Joanna. Just do better next time.” Ouch. Professional and cold. As always. I nod, ignoring the sting in my chest. “Yes, sir.” I turn to leave, gripping the doorknob—just one more second and I’ll be out of this weird tension-filled office— “Wait.” I freeze. I turn around slowly. “Yes?” Justin stands now, walking toward me. In his hand, a familiar brown paper bag. He holds it out. “You didn’t have lunch.” I blink. “I’m fine.” “You skipped breakfast too. Eat.” I hesitate. “What is it?” “Chicken pesto. No onions.” My breath catches. He still remembers? “Why are you doing this?” I ask quietly. He shrugs, not meeting my eyes. “I just… remember things.” My fingers brush his as I take the bag. Warmth. Stupid warmth that shouldn’t still feel this familiar. Then, he looks at me—really looks at me. “You shouldn’t skip meals… wife.” Silence. My chest tightens. “Don’t call me that.” But my voice is too soft to sound convincing. I walk out before I say something I’ll regret. His words echo in my mind like a dangerous lullaby. Cold one second. Kilig the next. God… he’s still him. And that’s exactly the problem.

She woke up to any empty bed , "panicking" she called 911 . She tried to sound freaked out but before she could say much about the matter at hand, her husband walked in . She was gravely disappointed but quickly masked it with relief . Reluctantly ,she cut the call and hugged her husband ,only for him to tense up. " who was on the phone?" He asked pulling back from the hug . She kept quiet knowing what would come next if she had said 911 . When she didn't reply ,he took her silence for an answer. He knew she was messed up but calling 911 all the time had been extreme. Annoyed he went farther away from her facing anywhere but at her . " you got to stop doing that" He clenched his jaw,really upset . " stop doing what?" ' stop wishing me dead ' he thought "Calling freaking 911 everytime I'm not around you " Silence followed. She thought he meant that as in I can't breathe without Lucas beside me kinda vibe but no... He knew. "I'm not asking you to go climb Mount Everest or jump off a cliff .I'm just asking you to grow up,Jen .You're a 22 year old act like it " He made his annoyance evident .He made no attempt to hide how pissed he was . His voice was harsh , cold and very very distant. It was always like that ,one had to get used to it She wanted to cry so bad that she had been caught but she knew he had known for a very long time now . 'Crying now would only prove him right' she thought. Finding her presence irksome, he left the room. Maybe getting married to Lucas was just crazy . Lucas was handsome ,rich ,independent. He was everything any girl wanted . everything that her father wanted for her .

I despised Dante Moretti long before he slid that ring onto my finger. Arrogant. Controlling. The kind of boss who could ruin my day with a single clipped order. I hated the way he spoke to me. I hated the way he watched me more. But walking into my hometown with his ring and watching my ex-husband’s face drain of color felt wickedly perfect. The elders wanted to see real love before selling their land. So Dante and I lied. We played the sweet couple. Except Dante didn’t touch me like a man pretending. At the Christmas market, his hand slid down my spine and stopped right where it shouldn’t. At dinner, he whispered against my ear, “If he’s watching, spread your legs a little. Let him see who owns you now.” I should have slapped him. Instead, my body answered him before I could breathe. He kissed my temple too slow and held my waist too tight. When the lights dimmed, he murmured, “Open for me.” “Keep your eyes on me.” “I want you shaking for me, not for him.” Somewhere between hating him and wanting him to wreck me, everything blurred. Because the man who barked orders in boardrooms had me whispering his name in the dark, Christmas lights flickering over his bare shoulders while he swallowed every sound I made. My ex wanted me broken. Dante wanted me ruined, but only beneath him. And the worst part was how easily I let him. Santa didn’t bring me a miracle. He gave me a sin in a three piece suit and I tore the wrapping off with trembling hands. As book one ends, book two: ON YOUR KNEES MR. BILLIONAIRE starts immediately