Duck Anatomy

Jasmine became a human-robot dead to emotions, the night her parents were murdered in cold blood right in front of her. She was a killer, the type that tempts a man with her body, entices him with her siren-like voice, and then drives a blade into his chest sending him to his Creator. When her uncle and the only family she had is killed by the Governor she sought out to get him in the only way she knows how to, but her plan falls through as she discovered he wasn't in the least interested in her body. In between being his assistant, sharing a floor with him, and wondering why he had such a cold blank look that made her shiver, he slowly was beginning to work his way into a piece of her anatomy she could swear she had tossed into a dumpster - Her heart. Now Jasmine must choose between revenging her uncle's death or try figuring out if there was more to the hardcore desire she felt for a man she was supposed to hate with her being.

Maxine A. K. A Max John's is a senior at St John's. She doesn't believe in love nor in mysteries or fate. Her spiritual being feels threatened. For some reason she sometimes dreams about a mystical girl she has never met. She is abused at home, she fights for survival and dignity, but is oblivious of who she really is and where she comes from, or what she'll become. Her existence was declined eon years ago. What if she has a bigger purpose....what if her past caught up with her long ago but never realized it? Until….. Maya is a known kindergarten teacher, she has to start teaching at St Johns. She is a princess in a land oblivious to mankind. Her people are escapees of descendants of a world one can wish to be part of. A city where no man lives. She was chosen to lead her people but doesn't want to. She runs away to live amongst humans. She always wanted to be free and choose her own life, and lover. She dreams about a young girl. She never questioned why? Until...... All calls they return to their homes, humanity is at stake, and they are the only ones to fight who was coming, what had been going on eons ago? What will they do? Duck, or dive?

“You are nothing but a fat ugly duck! and I would never accept you as my mate!” ★★★ What Yeren didn't expect on the day of prom was her dear mate/ boyfriend rejecting her brutally. Claiming she meant absolutely nothing to him and mocking her body size in front of the entire school. She was humiliated and mocked by fellow students and she battled to leave the crowd, thinking her misery had come to an end not until she pumped into the Trio brothers and broke an artistic pearl worth millons that belonged to them. Things take a swift turn when they ask her to pay for it or have to serve time as their maid for the rest of her life. "You belong to us now! consider it a bondage contract.”

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.