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My CEO isn’t human. And I’m already marked as his. Aeron Blackwood rules boardrooms by day and hunts by night. Cold. Controlled. Deadly. The kind of man who never loses control… except when I’m near. The mark on my skin burns every time he looks at me like that. Like I’m temptation. Like I’m prey. Like I’m his. He fights the bond with clenched fists and brutal restraint. I feel it coil low in my body, demanding more every time his voice drops or his gaze lingers too long. If the pack discovers the truth, I’ll be executed. If he gives in, he’ll lose everything. But when he stands too close, breathing me in like a sin he’s desperate to resist, I realize something terrifying. I don’t want to be saved. I want to be claimed.

The moment the acid hit my skin, I heard my own flesh sizzle. In the last moments before my consciousness faded, my trembling fingers managed to dial my brother, the new Don of the Steele family. To my relief, Farrow finally answered. The sounds of expensive jazz and clinking glasses bled through the receiver. His voice was cold as ice. "What is it this time, Grace?" "Farrow... help me..." He cut me off before I could finish. "Listen, Betty's book launch is tomorrow night. If you dare cause a scene or embarrass the Family, I'll disown you. I'll ship you off to a convent in Sicily." The line went dead. A moment later, a second splash of acid hit my face, and the searing agony consumed me. My eyes were gone, leaving nothing but hollow, bloody sockets. You don't need to exile me, Farrow. I'm already gone. Forever.

I had been married to James Tennant for seven years. In that time, he had already kept twenty-nine mistresses, like pretty little canaries in gilded cages. Now, I saw the thirtieth one in our bedroom, young and draped in nothing but a bath towel, lounging across our bed. I turned to him and asked coldly, “Can’t get enough out there, huh? Did you really have to bring her home?” The girl deliberately tugged her towel lower, her pale skin showing as she sneered, “Mr. Tennant says you’re like a dead corpse in bed! He wanted me to teach you how to please a man.” That night, I was forced to watch their little performance right in front of me. The next morning, James was furious at my indifference, resenting me for not reacting. However, he seemed to forget that our marriage was nothing but a contract, and in just one week, that contract would expire.

"One wish,” whispered Rica. “A love that will last forever.” Rica jumped out of her bed when she saw a man lying in the bed next to her. She stared at him, fascinated by his handsome face. He had an attractive aquiline nose which complemented his projecting cheekbones and alluring lips. His black glistening hair was coiffed to perfection. She closed her eyes. “This is just a dream,” she told herself pinching her own skin to wake herself up. “This is not a dream and I am your husband.” Her eyes widened as she stared at the manly figure standing in front of her. His perfect amber-colored eyes met hers. She opened her mouth, trying to speak, but no words came out. She was so confused. Yesterday, her boyfriend broke up with her, and now a stranger has appeared claiming they were married to each other. Is he the one she has been waiting for? A love that will last forever?

“Cursed child. Bad omen. The Alpha’s doomed bride.” That’s what they called me since the night I was born under the blood moon. ****** Desdemona is a cursed child right from birth, her skin marked by the moon itself. In a society where humans despise werewolves, Desdemona carries the cruel fate of being bound to one. Hated. Mocked. Even her own parents look at her with disgust, showering love only on her perfect sister while treating her as nothing but a burden. But curses don’t break easily. And her destiny waits in the shadows — the day she becomes the Alpha’s Cursed Bride. When she is forced to marry Alpha Alaric. Sold out by her own people, betrayed by her family, she must now survive in a pack of wolves where every whisper and glance could mean death. And the prophecy hangs over her, will she live, or will the curse claim her first?

I was the ultimate pick-me girl at the office, and somehow, I ended up inside a horror game before New Year's Eve. Seeing the bloody lady crawling in the dark elevator, I screamed out loud. "Oh my gosh! Where did you get that lipstick? It's perfect! It makes your skin look three shades lighter!" The bloody lady blinked at me in confusion as I helped her up. She even recommended the exact lipstick shade. Then I turned around and came face-to-face with the chainsaw-psycho general manager with multiple personalities, swinging his weapon around. I tied a little bow on his chainsaw. "Everyone else only cares if your chainsaw is sharp. I'm the only one who cares if you're tired from swinging it all day." The monsters in the room looked at each other, all thinking the same thing… Why did this feel weirdly wholesome?

I have a proposal.” Nicholas softly stroked my skin as he watched me. “I want children. And I want you to help me with that.” He wanted me to give him a child! "In return, I will give you everything you could ever want.” - - - - - Orphaned and with no place to call home, Willow's only chance at happiness was to attend college. When her scholarship fell through, she could only contact Nicholas Rowe, a mysterious and downright sinful billionaire, to give her the money she rightfully deserves. How would she have known that not only would he be willing to fund her education, but he also wanted her to be the mother of his children! This was not part of the plan. But when faced with temptation, Willow could only accept the indecent proposal and fall into the older man's clutches. Will their relationship last? What will happen when the ghosts of Nicholas’ past appear to tear the couple apart? Can they survive the storm?

"Why are you here, Aaron?" The question was charged with the need to really uncover the truth. "Because," he said, his breath hot against my skin, "there's justice in redemption, and you, Roanne, seek for justice in the wrong place." Before I could process the weight of his words, his mouth was on mine, a kiss that stole the air from my lungs and branded me with a hunger I'd fought to forget. It was possession, it was power—it was a battle I wasn't sure I wanted to win. - Roanne is a sophomore who is seduced into a secret campus revenge society by new "friends" promising justice against elite misdeeds, but becomes entangled in an intricate web of romantic obsession, family empires, high society deceit and dangerous underground power plays. The most dangerous game she plays is to seduce her ex’s best friend, but what happens when he becomes the hunter and not the prey? The Revenge Club is created by Amelie Bergen, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

Amaris has spent years trapped in the iron fist of Alpha Kieran, her so-called mate who treated her as a slave. He used her body for labor while starving her soul. After a reckless one-night stand with a stranger, everything changes for Amaris. Because the stranger is no ordinary man, he is Lycan King Ryker, powerful, devastatingly gorgeous, and absolutely blown with desire the moment he realizes what she is to him. His true mate, his Luna, and he will burn kingdoms to the ground before he lets another man's mark on her skin go unanswered. But Kieran is not ready to release what he once discarded. Now that another dominant male has awakened the goddess sleeping inside Amaris, now that she glows with confidence, sensuality, and a power she never knew she had, suddenly, Kieran wants her back. Desperately, obsessively, and dangerously. Ryker is determined to show her exactly what it means to be truly claimed, body, soul, and every breathless inch in between.

My husband, Joaquin Landon, is a renowned wax sculptor. He hangs up on me when I call him to save my life so he can focus on the wax sculpture his cousin wants. Amphetamine is injected into my system, so my mind is clear as I watch my nails get removed one by one. Every inch of my skin is covered in burning hot wax. My hair and lashes are plucked off, and my organs are ground. Steel pipes are inserted into my legs, and I'm turned into a wax sculpture. Joaquin sees me during an exhibition. His colleague tells him that the wax sculpture he sees looks eerily like me, but he merely looks disgusted. "All she does is cause trouble and act unreasonably. She's better off dead." What he doesn't know is that I already am. Joaquin doesn't recognize that I'm the wax sculpture before him.