House Dustin

Delaney is tired of her boring relationship with her college boyfriend, so she cuts ties and goes back home to her brother's house to regroup. Only he didn't tell her that his high school friend, the Patch Larson, was living there, the one she was madly in love with for years. And now he's part of the town's motorcycle gang, tattooed and even more mouthwatering than before. And he is going to show her what a real flame feels like.

I was always flying for work, so I left the whole renovation thing to my husband, Daxton Pruitt. This time, my flight got scrapped last minute, so I swung by the house to check in. The second I stepped inside, some woman named Mona Scambley, who claimed she was the designer, chucked a stack of invoices at me. Couples' lingerie display case: $15,000. High-end waterbed: $40,000. One glance at that pile of overpriced tacky nonsense made me nauseous. My brows pulled tight. "Ms. Scambley, this is a private house, not some couples' motel. What is all this?" Her face flipped in a heartbeat. She jabbed a finger at me. "The owner gave those orders. You're just the site supervisor. Disobey me again, and I'll have Mr. Pruitt fire you!" Then she spun around and called Daxton right there. I laughed, cold and low, about to ask what kind of clown show designer he'd hired—until I heard his voice. Gentle. Doting. "This is Mona and my love nest. We'll do whatever we want. Don't like it? Get out." I smiled, snatched the list from Mona, and nodded. "Sure." One week later, that overpriced waterbed showed up—Daxton, very much not smiling.

I was on a business trip out of town when I got a text from my neighbor. [Can you and your husband keep it down? Also, one of your undies fell onto my balcony.] Shocked, I opened the photo she had sent. The underwear wasn't even my style, but it matched the one I'd seen in my husband's online shopping cart. He'd told me it was a gift for me, but I remember noticing the size—it was one size larger than mine. When confronted with the neighbor's message, my husband swore that the house must've been broken into and claimed the intruder left the item behind. But something about his story didn't sit right, so I decided to dig further. That was when I stumbled upon his social media. His latest post was just three words. [I bought this.] It was paired with a photo of a lingerie gift set. Beneath it, there was a comment. [I'm wearing it.] Attached was a picture of a woman's legs—and the unmistakable background of my living room. The evidence was undeniable. I packed up the underwear and brought it straight to the police. "My husband says our house was broken into. This was left behind by the intruder, and it might have DNA on it."

Louisa Forge didn’t choose this. She was handed over like a bargaining chip — marked by an Alpha she despises, installed in a pack house that doesn’t want her, bound to a man who locks her in her room and calls it mercy. Kaelen is everything a wolf shouldn’t be: cruel, reckless, and hungry for a power he hasn’t earned. But the pack house has another occupant. Julian — former Alpha, widower, a man who has been quietly starving himself to death since the loss of his mate — is supposed to be irrelevant. A ghost in the east wing. Instead he’s the one who checks on her in the night, who brings her sedatives for the pain, who laughs with her over terrible soup until the whole dining room forgets to be miserable. He’s also the one who tells her, very clearly, that what happened between them during her heat meant nothing. He’s lying. They both know it. Caught between a mate bond she never consented to and a connection she can’t name, Louisa is doing what she does best — surviving. She’s building alliances in quiet corners, winning loyalty one small kindness at a time, and carrying a secret that could burn everything to the ground. Because the heir Kaelen is so desperate to claim? It isn’t his.

For a man whom she has spent 7 years with, married for 3, infertility was enough for him to cast her aside, replacing her with his mistress whom was already pregnant. But maybe getting cast aside was a blessing in disguise, Elisa returns home to regain her rightful place as the heiress of the Gilbert's house, and what follows after is the continuous regret of her Ex-husband. After all, the saying goes this way: You don't know the value of what you have until you lose it.

When Mike Radley's magical home grew another floor, he thought he knew what to expect. He didn't expect a kingdom of portal-chewing rats to be living between his walls. He really didn't expect to discover that the wardrobe down the hall was a prison world for a murderous kitsune. And he definitely didn't expect all of his enemies to converge on his house all at once, intent on his destruction. Welcome to Home for Horny Monsters Book 03. Expect the Unexpected.

After a bad break up with Brandon from high school, naging maingat na sa relasyon si Kelly. She's now thirty-one at malapit na siyang mawala sa kalendaryo. Her housekeeping agency is not doing well and with the lease being raised by the new building owner, she won't say no to a job even if that meant travelling to Quezon and cleaning an old house by herself. What she wasn't prepared for was meeting the owner and spending time with an old boyfriend day and night…

Rebecca had it all planned out, she had the career, the house, the guy who ticked all the boxes. Sure life was a little dull, but that's what happens when you grow up, doesn't it? Then one day, the guy she thought she'd marry decided he wasn't sure and with the help of her best friend and a rather unconventional bucket list, Rebecca might find out that being a grown up, doesn't have to be dull at all.

He was the most feared villain in all of new Orleans, ruthless and spiteful but in spite of all that he wasn't happy because he had all the wealth and connection a person could only dream of but was lacking in one area, LOVE She was a bookstore owner, a nerd and good Samaritan. when a stranger break into her house at midnight hurt and injured she has two choices call the cops or help him. Find out which choice she chooses on the mafia wants my heart

I got back from a six month work trip and found my pet hamster dead. I couldn't just bury it. I wanted to preserve it, keep it whole. But when I carefully opened it up, I went still. Its lungs were pitch black. That kind of damage couldn't happen fast. It meant months of breathing toxic smoke. But my husband and I never smoked. So who'd been living in my house while I was gone?