Edit Menu Choice Crossword Clue Novels & Stories

Angela spends all her life adhering to all her father's wishes for her, even when it went against hers. She was forced to marry Leo, the mayor's son in order to save the life of the one she loves. Seeing that her marriage was hell, she decided to reunite with the love of her life, putting their both lives at risk.

ღ꧁ღ╭⊱ꕥ Maria Isabel Monedero fantasized about being like Shakespeare. She devoted her all life to writing romance tragedy stories. She joined many writing competitions but never won. She almost gives up her spirit, but her bubbly personality doesn’t. Until the day she graduated college. Then, Maria Isabel Monedero, known as Mimo as her pseudo name, joined Story & Life publishing incorporation to work as a creative novelist. She got admitted, and many editors demanded that she be in their lineup. Unfortunately, before she gets to designate a team, she must undergo provision training within six months. Then, finally, the publisher assigns her a personal editor named Jaime Tejedor, who claims to be a hopeless romantic. He dislikes tragedy romance stories, which is Mimo’s best field in writing. He rejected Mimo’s works twice, and she only has the last chance to stick around. If she ever gets rejected again, it’s the edge of her career. For her to evade that… She plots to seduce her editor to approve her work. Will she succeed? Or fall entirely to his charm? ꕥ⊱╮ღ꧂ღ

Revenge is the sweetest dish served cold, especially when the mastermind is none other but a Demon. Could there be more to a seemingly weak Alpha of the Moonstone Pack that no one knew? Could the reigning darkness completely consume a vengeful damned soul?

**This is unedited version, pls read new EDITED VERSION that named Chasing Feyre: Cold Alpha's Beta Mate, pls moved to a new link, reading Chasing Feyre: Cold Alpha's Beta Mate** “Not everyone is desperate for your attention, alpha.” I say the title with a mocking lilt, knowing it would set him off. It did. “Reject me if you don’t want me, I don’t care.” “I, Alpha Zade of the Darkmoon pack, reject you as my mate.” ****** Feyre has been trying to solve the mystery of her parents death. As the beta of the Midnight pack, she rarely has time. When she finds her mate, the insufferable alpha that is too arrogant, over confident and worst of all, refuses to acknowledge her. She plans to leave the pack and forget she has ever met him after she dares him to reject her and he does. What will she do when his father comes with a tempting offer? He’ll give her the one thing she has ever wanted, in exchange for her to stay with his son for a month and give him an heir. It is a battle of pride, arrogance and ego. Love is put to the test when they are both determined and too stubborn to let something like love change their minds.

To encourage overall development, the kindergarten had asked each student to create a hand-drawn poster. My daughter Holly refused my help and insisted on doing it all on her own. Little did I know, most of the other children had their parents do the artwork for them. In comparison, Holly's delicate strokes were quickly dismissed. Not only was her work discarded into the trash, but her teacher also called her out in the parent group, criticizing her for being careless with the assignment. As I racked my brain trying to figure out how to help Holly regain her confidence in drawing, I was surprised to see Holly's artwork among the winning entries in the state-level children's art competition. But the signature wasn't hers—it belonged to another student from her class.

Children beware, and please give care of things that go bump in the night. It all seems like fun when you provoke mayhem and run through the graveyard to give one a fright. Please heed our warning from dusk until morning giving caution to the naive. Goblins and Ghouls wait on the foolishly brave to pull beyond the hallow grave.

In the dark of night, they come to life. Whispers through haunted tombs. Cackles beneath a dreaded moon. Malevolent spirits from the twisted mind. Be mindful of whose door you knock on. A reaper may greet you. For those that care of Halloween scare, abandon intent and take the dare.

The air in the Parisian haute couture salon smelled like money and fear. I’d waited six months for my wedding dress. Now, it was draped over the shoulders of Sofia Ross—the trending influencer, and my mafia fiancé Vincent Cassio’s god-sister. The salon manager was sweating bullets, his eyes darting between me and the man lounging on the velvet sofa. Vincent Cassio stood up. He adjusted a fold of the diamond-encrusted train on Sofia with a casual flick of his wrist. “Her premiere next week needs a statement piece. She’s borrowing it. Pick something off the rack and stop making a scene.” His tone was flat, final. Under the crystal chandeliers, Sofia admired herself in the full-length mirror, a triumphant smile on her lips. I looked at my reflection in the same mirror, wearing jeans and a soaked trench coat. I looked like a lost tourist. Suddenly, the entire past year of planning felt like a sick joke. I didn’t yell. I just felt cold. Numb. I slipped the five-carat engagement ring off my finger. It hit the glass coffee table with a sharp, final click. “You’re right, Vincent. I don’t need this wedding dress. This wedding… I don’t need it either.”

Warning: This collection contains explicit adult content, including intense power dynamics, dominance/submission, dubious consent themes in fantasy context, BDSM elements, age-gap scenarios, breeding kink, group play undertones, and graphic sexual situations. Strictly for readers 18+. All stories feature consenting adults in fictional scenarios. In this scorching anthology, eight ruthless, ultra-wealthy billionaires each claim total ownership over the woman who enters their world—whether through debt, auction, obsession, or sheer predatory desire. Every novella stands alone, delivering a different flavor of erotic heat while threading the addictive "owned by the billionaire" fantasy throughout. Dive into whichever kink calls to you... or devour them all.

Our seventh wedding anniversary. I sat at the dining table—alone. My phone buzzed, lighting up with two messages. First, from Tom: [Working late at the office tonight.] Second, anonymous: [Tom is incredible. Can you even keep up?] Attached was a picture of him, lips locked with a woman I didn't recognize. I blew out the candles on the anniversary cake. Eyes shut, I typed back: [Let's divorce.]