Eat Like A Fish

Jaden Baker has had only one love in his life, Delilah. She was actually more than that, she was his routine, his ritual, his sanity frankly his bane of existence. He is resigned to a life of solitude and the occasional hook ups. That is until his father gives him a month to get married. He is still thinking of a loop hole to avoid marriage all together when he sees her. From that distance, at that angle she looks like his Delilah. He can't let her walk away. But as innocent as she seems this look alike has secrets that might end up being his downfall or his salvation.

Love can hit you when you least expect it. It could be a soft easy wind that caresses you and gets stronger over time till it absorbs into your body and heart. Other times it can hit you like a gale-force wind and take every breath you will ever have. Laken stole my breath. She was my gale-force wind, and I will gladly give her every breath I have just to keep her safe, alive, and mine. If I have to live without her then I don’t want my breath. I don’t want anything but her. I will go to hell and back to get her from the grips of death.

I jolt awake to splash of ice cold water making contact with my warm skin and ripping me from my dreams. Looking up I see my perpetrator and best friend Bailey giggling, and holding a now half-emptied bucket. “Wake up loser! Last day on the beach and you choose to sleep?” I roll my eyes in annoyance at her bubbly enthusiasm. “Alright I’ll get in for a bit but I’m not going to stay long,” I state with a huff. We each grab a floatie and make our way waist deep before hopping on and linking arms to keep from drifting apart. “Are you excited to be heading back tomorrow? I know I am!” Bailey quipped. Honestly I’d been avoiding that thought the whole trip. Returning to our pack was the last thing I wanted to think about. This week at the beach had been the calm environment I desperately needed after senior year. Returning would mean I would have to finally confront the drama that has become my life the last three months. All through high school I kept my head down, focusing on my team and training. Despite keeping to myself there was always one person stirring sh*t up, my ex, Austin. His father, the Alpha to our pack, gave his life in one of the pack battles last year. Leaving his Luna to raise Austin and his sister on her own. Austin would now be eligible for the Alpha title which worried me. Up until we left he had shown blatant disrespect to my father, Beta to our pack. Not to mention he still had his eyes and ears on me. Returning was the last thing I had on my mind, knowing sh*t is about to hit the fan.

Archer has always wanted what he can’t have—Quinn Dawson. Since the moment he saw her, he’s been denying his feelings for her, ignoring the void in his heart he knows only she can fill. Everything about them was wrong, the kind of wrong that felt so right. But none of it mattered. Not the terrible timing. And definitely not the mess it would create if Archer made a move on his best friend’s baby sister. It was supposed to be one night, but one night is all it takes to make everything more complicated, and they only have nine short months to sort it all out. No, none of it mattered. Until it did.

Aryn's journey begins with the gift of strange and life-altering book. Aptly titled 'Rules of Death' it doesn't stop with the exposure of her own identity. The book holds knowledge and power Aryn can only begin to understand.

Sava, A girl who can remember past of someone was destined to visit the drion masion along with her brat friends. Drion mansion is the house where the quint and old piano was hiden, with a full mystery. But they were happened to trap there.

The doctor said I only had three days left to live. Acute liver failure. My only hope was an experimental clinical trial. It was extremely risky, but had the faintest sliver of a chance to survive. But my husband, David, gave the last available spot... to my adopted sister, Emma, also my daughter’s godmother. Her condition was still in its early stages. He said it was the "right decision," because she “deserved to live more.” I signed the papers to forgo treatment and took the high-dose painkillers prescribed by the doctor. The cost? My organs would shut down, and I would die. When I handed over the jewelry company I’d poured my heart into, along with all my designs, to Emma, my parents praised me, saying, “Now that’s what a good big sister should do.” When I agreed to divorce David so he could marry Emma, he said, “You’ve finally learned to be understanding.” When I told my daughter to call Emma ‘Mom,’ she clapped her hands and said, “Emma is such a gentle and kind mother!” When I gave all my assets to Emma, everyone in the family thought it was only natural. No one noticed anything was wrong with me. I’m just curious. Will they still be able to smile when they find out I'm dead?

I May Love You... but I Hate You More Rena thought she could move on. Yoké thought he could forget her. But when fate throws them back into each other’s lives, old feelings ignite into something far more dangerous. Jealousy becomes their language. Revenge becomes their game. And every misunderstanding pushes them deeper into a cycle of passion and hate they can’t escape. They say love conquers all… but what if love is the very reason they destroy each other? ★Sequel to Till Worlds Do Us Part

On the third day after my death, Eliza Sutton received the call to claim my body. She was resting in another man's arms. She said nonchalantly, "He's dead, huh? Just cremate it and call me afterward." My body was fed to the flames and reduced to ashes. When the staff were done, they contacted Eliza again. Irritation flashed in her eyes as she snapped, "I heard you. I'm on my way."

I used to be the most promising composer of my generation. But while I was working on my latest piece, my husband Charles Lambert's childhood friend destroyed everything I had. She slashed my face, stole my compositions, and set fire to my house—leaving me to burn alive alongside the kitten I'd just adopted. Then, as if my death were just a spark for her success, she posted my compositions online, claiming I'd plagiarized her. And people believed her. Everyone did. Strangers on the internet sneered and spat my name, and my own husband, Charles, chose to believe her over me. Even the International Musical Society rescinded my award and handed it to her without a second thought. My students, who once followed me loyally, were now fawning over her. I became the laughingstock of the entire internet—mocked, discredited, erased. It wasn't until a week later, when someone stumbled upon the charred remains of my lakeside studio, that they found what was left of me.