Novel & Cerita Hera Siblings

There were two famous good-for-nothings the gods loved to gossip about. One was me, Vera, the little princess of the Star Court, with most of my twin starblood ruined, good for nothing but eating, drinking, and playing. The other was my twin brother Orson. His life-fire was broken, and he was unable to stand being anywhere with too many people. But our eldest brother, Theron, was the next King of the Gods. Our second brother, Drake, was the Dragon Sovereign, who held every gold vein of the dragon clan in his hand. Our elder sister, Sylvia, was the heir to the Sacred Spring, the one art that could rekindle a dying life-fire. Our mother was the last High Priestess of the Court of Chaos, born able to carry different bloodlines of the gods. The day the star sea collapsed, Orson and I gave up most of our twin starblood to mend our siblings' fates. They lived. They became the three strongest elders the gods had ever known. And Orson and I became two cripples. Our days were simple: mooch meals off our eldest brother, spend our second brother's gold, and wait for our sister to feed us. That was until my sweet tooth carried me to a banquet thrown for Circe, the woman everyone said would become our eldest brother's bride. At that banquet, Circe, the daughter of House Siren, held up one blurry memory echo and insisted it was me who had climbed into Lord Theron's carriage the night before, stealing her betrothal to the Divine Court. I explained patiently, "You've got the wrong person. That was my brother. And this is my brother too." Circe exploded on the spot. She used her power to cripple me all over again, and nearly killed Orson. "One shameless slut, one useless idiot. A match made in heaven." It wasn't until my brother and I lay barely breathing that my three siblings tore House Siren's wards to shreds, and the whole realm of the gods shook.

Elian Stephen Moore, a therapist by day and a plaything by night, gets one patient that threatens to expose his secret life to the public. Aiden Knight, the psychotic son of the leader to The Vulturis. Elian has been awarded as the best psychologist in Kingsbridge Hospital, his life a little bit boring but his anyway was perfect even after Leah had stabbed him where it hurt the most. She cheated. One blurry night. One night of losing control. Elian sleeps with a man out of the strictly organized app he used when he wanted to indulge himself. Then in comes Aiden, the tall, broad boy that looks like he could break Elian into two without trying too hard. It appears he had been stalking Elian for a while now, the worst part? He knew everything. Now Aiden wants Elian at his beck and call, if he doesn't abide by his demands, he exposes him for what he truly was, a cock slut. But Elian hadn’t struggled to reach where he was only for a boy to destroy it. He was going to fight against him, even if he spreads his legs for him instead of pushing him away.

The novel consists of several mini-stories about therapy sessions at a therapy clinic named "Soulmate", but the letters "m-a-t-e" were broken in a storm. Each mini-story is narrated by both the psychologists and the patients, describe the patients' worldview, why they do what seems "mentally ill" to us. We often say that the patients' head is abnormal, that their way of thinking is so weird. But is there any possibility that it's because they received different (whether right or wrong) information, so they react differently? Is that just because we "normal people" haven't got enough understanding about this world? Throughout the story, we could see that therapy sessions are a two-way arrow. While the experts are affecting the patient, the patient is also influencing them,“When you look deeply into the darkness, the deep darkness is also looking into you". The story does not make any conclusion about who is right or which world is real, maybe all of them are real, maybe they are all virtual, or maybe, it all doesn't matter. Isn't the world where we live? Wherever you live, that's your world.

After getting back together with Peter Palmer, I stopped caring about where he went or what he did. He spent all our savings on Julia Sharp, and I didn’t even bother asking why. Maybe he realized something, because before leaving me once again to be with her, he said, “Julia’s leaving to live abroad tomorrow. She won’t be coming back. Once she’s gone, we’ll get married.” I gave a casual reply. After all, I was leaving too.

I'm a love therapist. My job is to help clients experience what it's like to be in love. One day, a client comes to me, wanting me to serve him in a different manner.

“We are not meant to do this...” I gasped, as his kisses made me breathless. “It's not part of the contract” “Screw the contract... I want you,” he cut in, with his unrestrained passion flaring in his eyes. “Right now...” Tamika, the popular relationship therapist, has her world crashing down, as she is dumped by her boyfriend in a live broadcast. She ends up having a one-night stand with the young CEO, Dolph, one of her biggest haters, who blackmails her into a contract marriage if she desires to return to her place of fame and influence. How does she get herself out of this mess? What does she do when she realizes she has begun to fall in love with Dolph? Find out in this exhilarating story of love, romance, conspiracy, and betrayal.

Cerena Rose thought marriage would bring passion, intimacy, and security. Instead, life with her husband, Daniel Hale, feels suffocating—controlled by his overbearing mother and trapped in a bedroom where desire has long gone cold. Desperate to fix their failing marriage, Daniel hires the most sought-after sex therapist in the country: Reid Romano. Confident. Dangerous. Unapologetically dominant. Reid opens Cerena’s eyes to a side of herself she never knew existed—a world of hidden desires, power, control, and pleasure she has spent her entire life suppressing. But therapy quickly becomes something far more complicated. Because Reid doesn’t just want to fix her marriage. He wants her. Every session pulls Cerena deeper into temptation, forcing her to question everything she thought she wanted. Her loyalty to her husband begins to crumble under Reid’s intoxicating dominance. And when lines between therapy, obsession, and forbidden desire begin to blur, Cerena must decide: Will she save her marriage… Or surrender to the man who truly understands her darkest cravings?

Port, a herald in the Heavenly Realm, was contented with his life delivering letters on different realms. Until he was executed and befell on Terrene Realm—the mortal world, and lost his memory. He met the arrogant artist called Eros Cuevas, who wanted to escape from the noisy world of mainstream media. The two of them did not realize that the ugly pasts they both wanted to forget were something that connected them. What will happen if a fallen angel falls in love with a human? What will happen if the different realms collide? What will happen if Eros learns that Port has something to do with his twisted past? Will love be enough, or vengeance is a must?

"Is $10,000 for one night's pay not enough? Just tell me and I'll raise it, whatever you want it to be. But you must be prepared to provide 'service' whenever and wherever I want it. Do you get it?" In an era where humans and werewolves coexist, Quinn becomes the fated mate of an Alpha and a very famous ice hockey player, Grayson. For Quinn, who is a massage therapist with a lot of debt, Grayson may keep booking her to do 'service' because he knows she needs the money to pay off her debts and to pay for her younger brother's treatment at the hospital. But for Grayson, who finally found his fated mate, Quinn is not just a therapist who fulfills his superstition, but also someone who is precious to him and needs to be protected before she's taken by another Alpha who also wants her. *** Disclaimer: all characters, terminology, locations, and so on are purely the author's imagination. If there are any similarities, it is purely by accident. Please remember that this is a work of fiction.

"Wait… sir, I can't…" While I was performing physical therapy on a patient, the vest I was wearing accidentally tore. In front of the patient's guardian, it exposed my sweat-dampened body. The man's gaze settled on the soft curves that had sprung free, his eyes dark and unreadable. When he pressed me against the mirror and made me watch my own reflection—my body left in disarray under his relentless attention—I knew then that everything was about to spiral into an uncontrollable abyss.