Green Ghost Rider

When Evie Crichton comes to Sirius she has no idea how the placement on the planet will change her life. On her first assignment in her new base she meets Ethan Nacher, the chief of a military team stationed near the base. From the very first moment dark handsome Sirian is a mystery that keeps her awake at night. But his behavior is just confusing-one minute it seems he wants to keep his distance and the next he is everywhere she goes. For Ethan Evie Crichton is like an unattainable dream. He loses his head for her the first minute he sees her. But he is just a Sirian soldier put in charge of protecting the Earthian base and he is convinced a beautiful Earthian girl would not ever care to look at him. Unexpected attack on the base forces Ethan to make on the spot decision. He saves Evie from the bombarded base and takes her on a journey through the jungle to his home city. He promises that when they get there he'll help Evie contact another base and return to her people. But will she want to return? On the journey despite her better judgement Evie falls for the handsome soldier more and more every day. However Ethan seems to treat her just as a burden for his team. Was the chemistry that seemed to have been building between them before just in Evie's head? As they face dangers on their way they will both have to face their feelings as well and decide whether they are stronger than reason.

*****Trigger Warning***** This book contains mature themes, physical, sexual and emotional abuse. My name is Lillian Blackwood. I thought my life was over. I had been beaten down and controlled by my ex both emotionally and physically for years. It was, do or die. Fortunately, I survived, and with therapy and time, I finally started some semblance of a life. The very last thing I was looking for was love. I hate dating, and quite frankly, I'm not a fan of men and who can blame me? I keep a very tight circle of friends, so I was surprised when love pushed and shoved its way into my life. But not all fairytales have happy endings, and my tale certainly gives happiness a run for its money.

During Black Friday, the intelligent system I develop helps the company run highly targeted ads and brings in 30 million dollars in revenue. But when I apply for the project bonus, the director rejects it. "The system is just an auxiliary tool. The performance belongs to the sales department." I hold back my frustration and pull up the system logs. "88% of the orders come from the system's targeted pushes. According to company policy, I should receive a 0.5% commission." The director glances at me, twirling his pen. "If the sales commission doesn't go to the sales department, should it go to you? And your lousy system exceeds the API limit and racks up extra fees. You still owe us a hundred thousand dollars. We'll deduct that from your salary." Three days before Christmas sales are set to begin, the system completely shuts down because of API restrictions. Late at night, the director calls me. I stare at my computer screen. "Since the system is just an auxiliary tool, why don't you start with manual targeting?"

I've been with my girlfriend, Erin Palmer, for five years. But the moment she finally lands the job she's always dreamed of, she dumps me. It feels like a blade twisting in my heart. Without my support, she would've never gotten to where she is now. What stings even more is discovering she's been cheating on me with my supervisor, Gavin Trent. Yet little does she know that this company is just one of the subsidiaries under my name.

In my parents' hearts, there was always a "perfect son" who died too soon. I was just his flawed substitute, while my younger brother was their new hope. They pretended to be poor for 20 years, secretly funneling all their resources to him. While I was in the final stages of stomach cancer, writhing in pain, they were spending millions of dollars to build him a state-of-the-art study room. When the doctor told me to notify my family about hospital bills, I felt helpless, thinking they were just ordinary, broke workers. When my mom finally showed up at the hospital, she grabbed my hand, not out of concern. "Neville is under so much stress with his college entrance exams. Can you not die right now? He can't take it." My dad stood by, wearing a stern expression. "David was way more sensible than you."

On New Year’s Eve, my fiancee, Delilah Carrington, left me to freeze to death in subzero snow. As my body went numb, she was wrapped in the military coat I had found for her, curled up in Everett Kingsley’s arms while eating the holiday groceries I had paid for. When I opened my eyes again, I was back before everything fell apart. So when she called—cold, demanding, rattling off a shopping list like I owed her—I hung up, blocked her number, and made my move. I sealed off Blackridge Logistics Hub, the largest logistics hub in the country. Stockpiling supplies? Pointless. Because my coworkers and I had more packages than we could ever open: seafood delicacies, premium cigars, top-shelf liquor, and industrial generators. Hundreds of millions of shipments meant for the holidays were now all mine. Inside a warehouse kept at a steady 26°C, I ate wagyu steak and watched the world collapse through surveillance feeds. I witnessed Delilah’s entire family tear each other apart over half a moldy pack of crackers. I thought I could live like this forever. I was wrong. In the apocalypse, the most dangerous thing isn’t what’s waiting outside. It’s the people who refuse to stop playing the hero.

I was a wedding planner, and I personally designed my husband's wedding to his mistress. I had been with Victor for five years. Three of those years were swallowed by the pandemic. The remaining two were spent married, pregnant, and raising a child. The wedding I had always dreamed of existed only as "next time" whenever it came out of his mouth, until the day I received a new wedding planning request. The client was a young woman, her eyes curved with laughter, her smile bright and full of hope. "This is the venue my boyfriend chose himself," she said softly. "He insisted the wedding had to be held here." I took the file from her, and my gaze stopped on the venue name. The church in Clairmont. The very church I had mentioned to my husband countless times, the place I had dreamed of more than anything else. I was just about to smile and marvel at how someone in this world shared my taste so perfectly when the groom's name leapt into view. Victor Langford. My fingers froze on the page. Across from me, the girl was still wrapped in her happiness. She added gently, "We've only been together for two months, but he said he wants to give me the best wedding possible." I curved my lips into a smile and fixed my eyes on that familiar face—the man I had lived with for five years. After all this time, the day I planned Victor's wedding had finally arrived. Too bad the bride wasn't me.

After getting into a fight with my CEO husband, Zachary Langford, I decided to sleep in a hotel room that night out of fury. Little did I know that a video would go viral on the Internet the next day. In the video, I took turns pleasuring seven men in my birthday suit. My moans filled the room the whole time. Zachary delivered a heavy slap across my face with the video shown on his phone. "How could I have ever married a shameless slut like you?" I couldn't even defend myself. All I could do was call the police for help. But once the police were done inspecting the video, they determined that it wasn't a deepfake. They had also discovered traces of the men's and my DNA in the hotel room. Everyone went into frenzied discussions on the Internet based on the video. It was then Zachary publicly announced that he shall be divorcing me soon after. Thanks to that, my mom died of a sudden heart attack. Apparently, the heart attack was triggered out of pure fury toward me. As for my father, he got into a fatal car accident on his way to the hospital. His corpse was completely broken and battered. After I got cast out of my family, those men's wives went as far as to hire hooligans to violate me in order to get revenge on me. Not wanting to get violated, I ended up falling down the stairs while I was fleeing from them. My brain suffered from internal bleeding, which killed me in the end. Even when I breathed my last, I still failed to understand why those videos and the evidence still existed despite the fact that I had done nothing at all. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day I'm having a fight with Zachary.

When I was seven months pregnant, my husband, Brandon Adkins, got into a car accident. I held my belly and rushed over as fast as I could, but by the time I got there, his body was already mangled beyond recognition. The shock hit so hard that I started bleeding right there. At my lowest point, it was the eldest son of the Elledges who got me to the hospital and handled Brandon's funeral. Three years later, Brandon showed up out of nowhere, holding his first love. He pulled me into a tight embrace, voice soft as he explained, "I'm sorry. Alanna was terminally ill. Her last wish was to travel the world. I was afraid you wouldn't agree, so I faked my death. "Now that her wish has been fulfilled, we can go back to the way things were." I looked into his affectionate eyes, then shoved him away in disgust. "Too bad for you. In the three years you were gone, I got engaged to someone else."

My breath caught in my throat the moment my eyes dropped between his legs. Oh God. His cock was hard, heavy, long, impossible to ignore. Panic filled my chest. “Is… that going inside me?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. My voice didn’t even sound like mine, small, breakable. “Oh, sweet doll…” His voice dropped, gravelly and dark. “It’s not just going inside you.” He stepped closer, towering over me. My skin heated as his hand wrapped around himself, stroking twice. He swelled even larger, as though to prove the threat in his words. “It’s going to stretch you wide open. You’ll feel me for days. You’ll walk with the memory of me buried deep, dripping down your thighs. You’ll cry from it, shake from it, and still… you’ll beg for more.” “Oh…” The sound tore from me, heavy with terror. I was sold for three million dollars to the man who killed my father. Dante De Luca, older, ruthless, dangerously handsome and untouchable. He didn’t buy me for a night. He bought me for a lifetime, to make me his mistress… and then, his wife. Trapped in a contract marriage, I vowed never to love him. But my body betrayed me. His possessive kisses. His punishing touch. I found myself wanting more. Craving him. Yearning for everything he gave. Dante wanted revenge, because my father killed his wife and stole his Mafia kingship. He wanted to punish me. He wanted to break me. But somewhere in his quest to cause me pain… he began to fall and save me, even from my own father. Now, when loyalty calls upon me, I’m torn. Between the man who raised me… and the man who owns my heart.