Excerpt Picture

SHADOW” is about Liam Remmick and his adventures in seeking revenge. His father, Steve Nazar abandoned the mother when she was still pregnant. After the death of his mother he lived from one orphanage to another until he was thrown out to fend for himself. Because no other orphanage agreed to take him in, mostly because of his sadist character, he lives in a cave eating whatever he finds. Most times he would steal food and fruits from vendors—he would be caught, beaten to a pulp and the food he stole would be taken from him. He would go home empty handed with nothing but a bruised face and a few broken bones and swollen eyes. When he’s not stealing fruits he’s either hunting for game or mushroom. On a faithful day when he came home to his cave after a sunny day of getting nothing, he noticed someone was in his cave and after having a short squabble with the stranger—as usual Liam is good at picking fights but rarely wins any. The strange figure introduces himself as Seth, Liam’s Uncle. Liam recognised his face from the picture his mother would always look at if she missed home. Seth is Liam’s mother’s baby brother. That day is the first day Liam is meeting him or any of his relatives. Seth has been looking for him after he heard his sister died, he was close to giving up when he finally stumbles on a cave to rest and tend to his wounds only for him to meet his nephew living like a caveman. He takes him home to the Shadow Realm—is the home of people with the ability to control Shadows, Liam’s father was from there but he deserted the place.

The night before I was meant to become Luna to my fated mate, Kaelen, I stumbled across a post: "How to steal an Alpha from his fated mate?" The comments blew up. 【You're trying to break up fated mates? They’re chosen by the Moon Goddess herself! That's a sacred bond, a one-in-a-million blessing!】 The comments were full of outrage, but a user named “Baby Wolf” proudly replied: 【If you’re bold enough and know how to play your cards right, even a bond from the Goddess is just a pretty little lie. My Alpha says his fated mate calms him, but in bed, I'm the one he can't get enough of. He says that woman's a dead fish. He was over her ages ago, lol.】 For some reason, my heart clenched. My mind flashed to Kaelen holding me, his voice a low rumble in my ear, "Baby, your scent is the only thing that soothes my wolf." I told myself it was just a coincidence. Until I saw her next post: "Vacation in the Rockies last month. We ran into some rogues and he got his arm shredded protecting me. My hero. " The scarred arm in her picture… I knew it instantly. I knew every single mark. Kaelen had told me he got it breaking up a pack fight. I'd cried my eyes out for him. So my perfect mate was nothing but a low-down, cheating liar. I wiped my tears, my grief turning to ice, and called his mother—the one woman who'd fought our bond from the start. "Kaelen betrayed me. I'm leaving him."

Story Summary: The Billionaire's Contract Wife Logline: When desperation forces a woman into a marriage contract with a ruthless billionaire, their business arrangement threatens to crumble under the weight of forbidden passion and a dangerous secret from his past. Synopsis: Facing financial ruin and her father's looming medical crisis, Elara Vance makes a devil's bargain with Kaelan Thorne—the formidable CEO whose business dealings inadvertently crushed her family. For twenty million dollars, she will become his devoted wife for one year, a beautiful facade to secure his most crucial business deal. The contract is clear: no emotional attachment, just cold, calculated performance. Moving into his sterile penthouse, Elara navigates a world of opulent deception. Publicly, they are the picture of perfect newlyweds, their manufactured chemistry dazzling the media. Privately, they engage in a tense battle of wills, their sharp exchanges crackling with suppressed heat. Elara begins seeing past Kaelan's icy exterior to the man haunted by the tragic death of his former fiancée, Genevieve—a shadow that looms over their every interaction. The line between pretense and reality shatters during a moment of undeniable passion. When Elara discovers she's pregnant, Kaelan's old wounds reopen. Consumed by past betrayal, he accuses her of trapping him, confirming his deepest fear that everyone is for sale. Months later, a corporate attack linked to the mystery of Genevieve threatens to destroy Kaelan's empire. It is Elara, armed with strength she never knew she possessed, who exposes the conspiracy and saves his company. Faced with losing her forever, a humbled Kaelan must confront his past and vulnerability. He finds her not with a new contract, but with a heartfelt confession, proving that their love was the only deal worth making. Tropes: Marriage of Convenience, Billionaire Romance, Broken Hero, Strong Heroine, Fake Relationship, Pregnancy, Hidden Past.

All Sophia Carter ever wanted was to dance—to feel the stage lights, the music, the spotlight—her dream was to become a national champion. And marriage? That was never part of her plan. Especially not to Ethan Blackwood—the arrogant playboy billionaire who didn’t even show up to their wedding, but sent someone else in his place!!!! But their parents didn’t care. The two been forced into a deal they never wanted strike a deal— stay marrief for 6 months and divorce. At first, it was war—silent arguments, cold stares, distance and chaos! But slowly… something started to happen…… Something real. Something powerful. Something undeniable Ethan who was struggling with his feelings, hated been trapped. He missed his freedom, his old carefree life. One night, in anger, he told his best friend— "I wish she would just disappear from the earth forever." It was just a harmless joke but not all words are to be joked with because his words came to pass just a week after. Sophia really vanished from earth. Her car reportedly crashed off a bridge. No body. No trace. Nothing. Ethan became a prime suspect especially when his car was seen at the scene an hour before the crash, and with that dark joke he made earlier… the world started asking— Did Ethan really do what he wished for? Or did Sophia fake her own death to escape the marriage? There’s another problem too—Vivian, Ethan's ex. The one who said she came to help… but started wearing Sophia’s clothes,Sophia’s jewelry and Sophia cars. So now the questions multiply— Is Sophia alive and held hostage somewhere? Why does Vivian look a little too happy that Sophia’s gone? Did she and Ethan plan the whole thing to take Sophia out of the picture?

Noah Kline is the picture of daytime purity. He is a shy philosophy student who wears glasses and shrinks under Dr. Alexander Elliott's piercing gray stare during ethics lectures. His heart races as he imagines those commanding hands bending him over the podium. At night, he turns into Nyx, the club's dirtiest pole dancer. His body is oiled and shining, his hips grind against steel in a way that makes cocks throb below. He drops into a slow, dirty split that makes cocks throb below. With his thighs spread wide around the pole, he rolls his pelvis in wet, teasing circles. His thong is soaked and clinging to his leaking erection while men stuff hundreds into his garter and fingers graze his balls. When Noah needs money for school, he gets a private VIP gig. He climbs the pole in a tiny thong and a glittering harness. He bends back and slides his fingers inside the waistband to tease his own hole on stage, moaning softly as the crowd cheers. Then the lights catch a familiar face: Professor Elliott, coming out of the shadows, his suit clean and his eyes black with wild hunger. Elliott rushes onto the stage and slams Noah's chest against the cold pole. "Daytime little mouse can't meet my eyes," he growls, shoving his knee between Noah's thighs to rub against his sore cock. "But here you are, dripping and begging strangers to break this tight hole?" Rough hands pull the harness aside, and Elliott's fingers go between Noah's cheeks, circling his entrance before pushing two thick fingers inside and curling them to hit his prostate hard.

The doors of elite research institutions aren't open to the unknown. But Rick Allen pulled Beth out of nowhere. He poured everything into nurturing her talent and promised her the world. The Allen family's compromise was simple: the Chief Young Scientist had to be Summer Belden—someone from their own social circle. From that day on, the words Rick said to Beth most often were, "Just wait a little longer." He told her to wait when her groundbreaking paper was published under Summer's name in exchange for research funding. He told her to wait again when the research she'd perfected over three years was packaged as Summer's signature work, paving the way to major awards. "The bigger picture comes first," he said. "The next Nobel Prize—I'll make sure it's yours." But when the paper credited to Summer—though written by Beth—was exposed for fabricated data, everyone reached the same conclusion: Beth, as a core member of the project, had tampered with the data to steal the credit. Locked in a glass-walled archive room, Beth looked at Rick standing outside the door. His gaze was ice-cold, full of disappointment. "Why did you touch the data?" he said. "You've ruined everything I've built." She remembered how he once told her, "In this world, yours is the only talent I truly recognize." He had promised, "I'll make sure achievements with your name hang among the stars." Now he stood with the others, judging her. He looked at her the way people look at a ruthless, ambitious fraud. When she was finally released, Beth dug her nails into her palm until blood ran down. This time, she wouldn't wait any longer.

Gosh! Those eyes! They were screaming cute! His masculine beauty was out of this world and he is the kind of man I’d love. The only problem I saw in him was the big tattoo on his arm that extended to his wrists. Being a typical church girl, I couldn’t end up with such a man unless I wanted to be disowned by my father. “I’d have a glass of martini, extra dirty and tacos.” He said in a dreamy gusty voice. “Coming right up” I said taking the menu list and flashed a timid smile at him. I felt my cheeks burning and if there was a mirror around here, I’d have checked how embarrassing I must be looking. My face must have definitely turned pink. I watched him as he ate gracefully without looking elsewhere, his eyes were fixed on his phone. His short brown hair was to die for, I instantly wished I could run my fingers through them. Too bad, I might not be the kind of woman he wants; it wouldn't hurt to have sinful fantasies. He suddenly looked towards me, maybe he must have noticed I had my eyes on him all along. Immediately he locked eyes with mine, I looked elsewhere pretending to looking for something that wasn’t missing. I could tell he gave a faint smile but kept sipping his drink slowly, as he was gazing at his phone. He gave a signal to come and get his bill and I walked gracefully to him. God! I wish he could just take me to bed. Oops! I’m a church girl and shouldn’t be thinking of things like that. “You should take a picture of me, it will last longer.” He said in a baritone voice.

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.

It had been five years since I started dating Ross Jenner. His family invited my mother and me to their family home in Fellaton to discuss our wedding plans and to spend Valentine's Day together. It was past 10:00 PM when my mother and I landed, but Ross wasn't there to pick us up because his college junior, Laurel Elledge, had just arrived in Fellaton. He told me to figure out a way to get a cab to the house myself. In a strange place, unfamiliar with the area, it wasn't long before we found ourselves in danger. Just over ten minutes outside the airport, we were robbed. My mother was injured while trying to protect me, and she collapsed, bleeding heavily. Desperate, I held onto her, frantically trying to call Ross. Each call was abruptly cut off, and when I finally reached him, he sounded irritated. "Jennifer, you're an adult, so stop acting like a child. You couldn't even hail a cab on the street? Laurel just got to Fellaton and isn't feeling well. I need to take care of her." Without waiting for a response, he hung up. I tried calling again, only to find that I had been blocked. In the end, my mother's injuries were too severe, and she bled out before the doctors could save her. As I stared at her lifeless body, tears flowed uncontrollably. When I finally checked my phone again, the first thing I saw was a picture Ross had posted on Twitter. In the photo, he was kissing Laurel and holding a bouquet of roses. [Spending Valentine's Day with the one I love most.] I quietly threw the gifts I had brought from home into the trash. Then, I left a comment, which said, [Wishing you both a lifetime of happiness.]

I'm a mafia princess with crippling social anxiety. My fiancé, Rocco Falcone, is our family's consigliere. He’s the exact opposite of me—extroverted, effortlessly charming, a master at reading and bending people. He's supposed to be my protector. My only link to the outside world. Tonight was the charity gala for my late mother. I was hiding in the darkest corner, a mask covering my face. Rocco was supposed to give the speech. My speech. He never showed. [Emergency. Sorry. Skip the speech, I know you hate the attention. Driver will take you home after the auction. Don't wait up.] Then I saw Livia’s new post. It was a picture of Rocco, draping his suit jacket over her shoulders. He was looking down at her, his eyes full of a tenderness he never showed me. The caption was a gut punch: [No prom date, so my big bro saved the day! Couldn't have done it without him! ] The cold hit me. Bone deep. He ditched a memorial for my dead mother... to take his stepsister to a university dance? The guests began whispering and sneering that I, the famously awkward, socially crippled princess, couldn’t even force a word out. I stared at the whiskey I’d ordered for him. The ice in my glass was melting. Just like the hope in my heart. When I got back to our empty penthouse, my screen was lit up with missed calls and texts from Rocco. The last one came in thirty minutes ago: [Aurelia, trouble at Livia's prom. You know how she gets. Couldn't leave her. Your mother's gala means everything. I'll make it up to you, I promise. Next time will be perfect. Trust me.] I didn't reply. An engagement held together by "next time." Was a promise like that even worth keeping?