Eight Novel Novels & Stories

One morning, Piper Smith woke up to find herself naked with clothes scattered on the floor and kiss marks on several parts of her body. She had no memory and no idea with whom she had spent a passionate night. The incident led to her being evicted from her grandma’s mansion. Eight months later, she gave birth and became a single parent to her son. Until one day, an offer to become a private tutor for a girl from a wealthy family came to her. Piper, who was struggling financially, did not hesitate to accept the job offer. And from there, Piper finally discovered a shocking fact that had been hidden from her all this time. What was the shocking fact? Who was the man she had spent the night with? Will Piper and her son be happy? Note: Book cover from Kiss.

This book is not your usual romance novel, it's a steamy dark romance novel which contains Mature contents, strictly R18+ Ivana Davies was transferred to NYC two weeks after getting her dream job of becoming the private secretary to the second son of the richest and most influential family in Russia. "The Gilbert group of company" a multi-billion dollar financial and software empire, after catching her boss exchanging body heat with his receptionist. Much to her disbelief, Ivana was asked to work as the permanent secretary to The Gilbert first son, Davin Gilbert who wanted nothing to do with his father or the family business. When those pairs of dark eyes landed on her, on the first day working for Davin Gilbert, will Ivana and Davin be able to resist the sparks and longing they have for each other as they both work closely in his company?

A thirty-year-old office lady, who got into an accident and is now trapped inside a novel series she loves. She was reincarnated into one of the side character extras of the story and meets in person the tyrant magician, the playboy prince, and the clueless female lead of the story.

Billionaire CEO Damien Voss hasn’t slept peacefully in three years — not since the car accident that broke him. When his assistant drapes a forgotten lavender-and-strawberry scented blanket over him, Damien finally finds rest… until the precious scent is washed away forever. Desperate and unraveling, he turns to the blanket’s owner: Liora Kane, his assistant’s younger sister. With a single threat her brother’s job or her compliance Damien forces Liora into a contract: eight hours per night in his bed, nothing more. Her days remain her own. Six months only. He tells himself he is being reasonable. He only needs her scent to sleep. Nothing else. But Damien Voss was once the city’s most sought-after bachelor tall, devastatingly handsome, and powerfully built. Even after the accident, his striking looks and commanding presence remain. And though he has never been with a woman, he quickly learns how to use every inch of his body to seduce the innocent woman lying beside him. Night after night, Liora lies stiff beside the domineering CEO as he buries his face in her neck, inhaling her like a drug. What begins as clinical necessity slowly turns carnal. His touches grow bolder. His hips start to rock against her in the dark. He rubs himself against her thigh or stomach until he shudders and spills in his boxers, whispering filthy praises against her skin while she fights the unwanted heat building inside her. The contract promised safety. It promised only eight hours and nothing sexual unless she consents. Yet Damien’s obsession deepens with every shared breath. Jealousy ignites. Possession takes hold. And Liora finds herself dangerously seduced by the broken, beautiful man who needs her more than air a man willing to break every rule to make her crave him.

In the eighth year of helping Keith Hunter pay off his debts, I was diagnosed with stomach cancer. I tested the waters and asked him, half joking, "If I got cancer, would you save me?" He laughed, saying I was overthinking it. Then he added firmly, "If it ever came to that, I would sell my blood to pay for your treatment." I lay awake all night, tossing and turning, still feeling like I couldn't drag him down with me. Before taking a sleeping pill, a notification popped up on my phone about a social media post. [How do I dump an older woman who paid off my debts for eight years without too much drama?] The profile picture looked eerily like Keith's silhouette from behind. He wrote, [Eight years ago, my family went bankrupt. She stuck with me, living off dry toast and squeezing into a rented apartment. She helped me pay back over 600 thousand dollars in debt. [Back then, I thought she was innocent and cute. Now, I feel like she's just a materialistic woman putting on an act. [Last month, she even asked whether I would save her if she got cancer. How does someone even ask that? [Obviously, she was trying to get money out of me. Good thing I didn't tell her that my family recovered three years ago. [Now, my family has arranged a fiancée for me. She's the daughter of a publicly listed company. [I want to cut things off with my girlfriend, but I'm afraid she'll cling to me. After all, she wasted a lot of her youth on me.] By the time I finished reading, I had crushed the stomach cancer diagnosis in my hand into a wrinkled mess.

To help my husband, Henry Carter, pay off a million-dollar debt, I clean windows and scrub toilets in an office building on Valentine's Day just for the triple pay. After I'm done with the windows, I am about to transfer the last 50 thousand dollars of the debt when a post suddenly pops up on my phone. The title of the post is, "What is something you see in real life that makes you feel sorry for someone, even if they are your enemy?" One of the top comments says, "The person I hate the most is my boyfriend's wife. My boyfriend pretends to be poor to spend money on me and cheats his wife out of over a million. That woman works day and night at a cleaning company just to make money for me! "This has gone on for eight years. That woman has been scrubbing toilets for eight years! Even if she is my enemy, I feel sorry for her." I freeze, and my fingers tremble uncontrollably. No way. It has to be a coincidence. I stare at those words, stunned and unable to recover from the shock. Then, a new comment appears, "Now, my boyfriend plans to fake an illness by telling his wife that he has cancer. He's going to trick her into giving him money to buy me a car." At that exact moment, Henry sends me a message. The instant I open it, I feel my heart skip a beat. It reads, "I'm sorry, honey. I'm sick—I have cancer. The doctor says we need to prepare 80 thousand dollars for treatment. I hate myself for this. Why am I even alive? I'm just dragging you down with me." The words "late-stage liver cancer" in the attached diagnosis report are painful to look at. I think in dismay, "Henry, you do not need to pretend to be sick. You are indeed in the late stage of cancer."

I'm eight months pregnant, and I suddenly go into early labor. But my husband, Aldrich Lohan, locks me up in the basement and gives me a tocolytic injection to stop my labor instead. He does all these just to ensure that his sister-in-law's baby is born before mine, so that my child won't fight for the inheritance rights. "Anton saved my life," Aldrich says, referring to his elder brother. "But now, he's gone, succeeded only by the baby in Chrissy's womb. I must let her baby inherit all the rights. Chrissy lost everything, but you're still here, enjoying everything I'm giving you like you're entitled to them. So what if you compromise a little bit for her sake?" The contractions in my lower body are hurting more than I can bear. I'm on the verge of passing out as I grab on to the hem of his pants and beg, "I swear that I won't let my child claim his inheritance rights! Please, just send me to the hospital. My child will die otherwise!" However, Aldrich just kicks me aside. "Chrissy has been pregnant for nine months. How can you be giving birth in just eight months? How would I know whether or not you're just inducing birth on purpose? I don't care. I won't let anyone steal the inheritance rights from Chrissy's baby, even if there's just a minuscule percentage of it happening." In the end, Chrissy successfully gives birth to her child, and it's only after that that Aldrich finally remembers me in the basement. "Bring Kelsey to the hospital and make them bring out the best medical equipment to ensure the safe birth of my child." His personal assistant, Edgar Salome, shivers as he says, "But Mr. Lohan… Mrs. Lohan and her child have both died…"

An ordinary girl who can be defined by one word; adventurous...and well, maybe a little bit of rebellious. It's one thing that can set her soul free from everything. A boy who is known for three words; the sheriff's son. In other words—well-behaved. What happens when these two people collide? Have you ever painted a graffiti on a wall? Ever destroyed a Lamborghini? Or even try to outrun drug dealers? Well, he's about to experience that with her as The Three A.M Getaway begins.

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The world is filled with different creatures we usually don{t know about their existence, and between all of them we have Marina, a sweet, beautiful siren who gets kidnapped by a pirate crew while she attempted to save a group of fish from being captured. But when it seemed everything was lost for her, a member of the pirate crew falls for Marina and decides to help her, but this won't be easy, as the pirate's captain (the fierce daughter of a fearsome pirate) is obssessed with Marina, and will do whatever it takes to turn her into a public attraction that makes her rich.