How Many Books Read A Year

TALES OF INSTANT LUST - SHORT READS Preface   Greetings, Reader   Welcome to a world where passion flares up in the most unexpected places, where lust takes the stage, and where desire never waits.   The concept behind "Tales of Instant Lust" was that not all love stories have to be quiet or poetic.  Irresistible chemistry, unsaid tension, and raw hunger can sometimes express more than a thousand romantic words ever could.  Designed for people who want their fantasies to be served quickly, hot, and unrestrained, these stories are brief, intense, and explicitly sexy. There are no happily-ever-afters in this story. It's about the rush of the present, the energy of the moment, and what happens when two bodies naturally give in to it. Thus, locate a peaceful area, turn down the lights, and get ready. This is indulging, not just reading. With desire, Author. BLURB  "Tales of Instant Lust" is an enticing compilation of short, passionate erotic stories that are sure to leave you speechless. This story, which covers bare unrestricted lust in all its exciting forms—from sneaky meetups in lifts to wild nights in faraway countries—is ideal for readers who want romance without hesitation.  Regardless of your preference for sexy build-ups or intimate encounters, every story puts you right in the thick of things. From gentle groans to unrepentant passion, this collection offers a variety of personalities, appetites, tones, and peculiarities to suit every sensual preference. Each story is fast-paced and is incredibly spicy; it is meant to be read all at once and to stay with you long after the last word.  Pure, immediate pleasure in a world where wishes come true—no drawn out slow burns.   Note: These are adult-only stories.  Tales of Instant Lust is your guilty obsession waiting to happen. Enjoy Reading

My husband threw me into the crocodile pit to help his childhood sweetheart, who was a KOL, gain popularity. To make the live stream more realistic, he personally tossed bait at me. “Have you not eaten? My grandma can run faster than you!” He watched as I bled from my abdomen, believing I was just pretending to be pitiful. When I asked for a divorce, he kicked me to the ground. “Since you love pretending to be pitiful to ask for a divorce, why didn’t you just let the crocodile kill you?” I handed him a medical report. “My child died because of you. Does this count as pretending to be pitiful?”

Lights, Camera, Action. Rebecca Jones is currently at the pinnacle of TV dramas. But how much longer? Everyone knows they don’t see behind the scenes. Rebecca’s private life isn’t for public consumption. What secrets are hidden there? Everett Stone, Rebecca's onetime co-star. He knows several of Rebecca’s secrets as they were once secretly married. Everett’s Gena’s current costar. Everett and Gena have had a tumultuous relationship. This man really gets around. Gena D’Or wants what Rebecca has. She’ll use any means necessary to take Rebecca’s place as the Rose of Black Dawn Productions. Gena’s close to her goal after years of trying. Crooked agents, a billionaire princess, many rumors, and dropping ratings. Rebecca is desperate to survive this cutthroat business. Everett’s interested in cutting his losses after his agent played him like a newbie for years. Everett can’t prove it yet. However, he receives an offer to reprise his original role as Dane Matthews, the male love interest of his ex-wife’s character Bella Cardinal, on the night-time drama Empire Nights. Will he leave Gena’s show, Grandview Place? To return to where he started. What about his ex-wife? Nothing’s the same on the Empire Night’s set. Rebecca isn’t the same. Everett finds he’s not as immune to his ex as he believed. Can he get his backstage pass to Rebecca’s private life back? Will he save her from whatever is destroying her? Or will he be the one to destroy her? How will they respond when the studio forces Rebecca and Everett to marry for the show's ratings? Money, misdirection, celebrity, secrets, and rumors make or break everyone in this business. What happens when the curtain falls and the lights go out?

At my best friend's wedding, a girl lunged forward and caught the bouquet—only for it to slip from her hands and land squarely in my arms. My best friend, Lauren Walker, beamed at me. "Madison, looks like you're the next bride." The guests exchanged knowing glances and turned toward my boyfriend of eight years—Mason Ryder, the CEO of the Ryder Group. But he calmly plucked the bouquet from my hands and casually passed it to the girl standing beside me—his secretary, Natalie Carter. "She caught it first." He ruffled my hair, his voice gentle. "Be good. Give it back to Natalie for now. We'll wait for the next time." The spotlight—and the guests' attention—shifted with the bouquet, settling on Natalie. I looked at her startled yet shy expression, then rested a hand on my stomach and forced a bitter smile. Mason didn't know there wouldn't be a next time. Our eight-year promise had already come to an end, and we still hadn't taken the step into marriage. And I had already promised my parents, who were royalty, that next week, I would leave and return to Montelvia to inherit the family legacy.

She loved him once—the ruthless billionaire who made her believe in forever. But one poisoned glass turned her into his enemy, and Adrian Cole let her rot in prison for eight long years. Now she’s free, scarred, and burning with the memory of his betrayal… while he’ll stop at nothing to claim her again. Can Elena forgive the man who destroyed her, or is loving him the most dangerous mistake of all?

Studying abroad can be incredibly lonely at times. That night, I was in my room, indulging in a little treat for myself, when my best friend suddenly burst through the door. "Doing it yourself is no fun. Come on. There's a super cool cabaret show going on. Let's go see it together!" On stage, my friend was reclining in a chair behind the curtain, with two strong-looking men on top of her. "Come on. Join us for a group dance..."

When I went to register my son, Cody Vantor, for medical insurance before his first year of kindergarten, I was told I wasn’t his biological mother. "Are you sure this is your child? The system shows a different woman listed as the mother." I said nothing. I quietly snapped a photo of the unfamiliar home address, then followed it to the neighboring complex. When he saw me, my husband, Dorian Vantor, froze. His hand instinctively moved to block the doorway. "So you found out. But making a scene won’t change anything. I haven’t treated you badly these past three years." I looked past him, and my body went cold. The woman behind him was my younger sister, Summer Walsh, fresh out of college. She handed him a glass of water and gave me an apologetic smile. "Don’t blame me, Lennie. The doctor said I have postpartum depression. I can’t handle hearing a baby cry. Thank you for raising Cody for me all these years. I really am grateful." Just then, Cody, who had been waiting in the car downstairs, ran up. He rushed into Summer’s arms like it was second nature, then turned to look at me. "Aunt Lenora, don’t cry. Mommy said you’re a good person. That’s why she asked you to help. Daddy said if I behave and call you ‘Mom’ at your house, I can come back on weekends to see my real Mommy."

The day my husband left the country on a business trip with his assistant, I learned—by sheer accident—that his archenemy was plotting revenge overseas. Without a second thought, I raced to the airport and stopped him from boarding the plane. But his assistant went ahead, alone. And over there, she was killed brutally. Not a trace of her remains was ever found. When my husband received the news, he fell apart. Wracked with guilt, eaten alive by remorse, he spiraled into a relentless, violent mania. In the past three years, I'd been in and out of hospitals more times than I could count because of him. And this time, he pushed me so far—I lost our child. Then I overheard a conversation between him and his secretary. "Sir, Casey is still alive. Why keep pretending you're sick? Aren't you afraid your wife will find out and leave you?" "Leave me? What right does she have to be angry?" He laughed coldly. "If she hadn't stopped me from going abroad, Casey would've never been lured away by that bastard. Everything Linda's suffering now—she brought it on herself."

On the seventh year after we moved overseas, my 13-year-old daughter, Anna Jackman, is hailed as the internationally renowned piano prodigy. No matter how difficult the song is, Anna is capable of weaving beautiful melodies with it. But there's only one song that Anna refuses to play. It's a seemingly ordinary lullaby. She's worried that she might end up forgiving that despicable man again once she plays it on the piano. So, when said man, Micah Jackman, turns up on our doorstep with a piano that's handcrafted by a master craftsman and asks Anna to play him the lullaby, she just shakes her head calmly in return. "I don't know how to play that song, sir." Micah's eyes redden immediately. He grabs Anna's hand and navigates it to the piano keys. "That's impossible! Aren't you a piano prodigy, Anna? Haven't you always wanted to have a piano of your own? I've already bought you your own piano this time! From now on, if you have any wishes, you should tell me, and I'll grant them for you." Anna draws back her right hand coldly. "It's fine, sir. I can earn my own money to buy my own piano. You should take the piano back to your daughter." Micah feels as though his heart has plunged into the abyss. He immediately pulls Anna into his arms. "What are you talking about, Anna? You're my only daughter!" But Anna looks a little puzzled. "Didn't you say that Ms. Sinclair's daughter is the only one worthy of becoming your child? Didn't you give the piano you promised for me to Ms. Sinclair's daughter?" Having reached that point, Anna just smiles nonchalantly at Micah. "It's fine, sir. Since you like Ms. Sinclair, you can just raise her daughter. I'm already content enough with Mom by my side."

Five years ago, I left my husband a note. Three sentences. A returned bracelet. A door closing softly at 4am. He told me to get rid of our baby. I got rid of him instead. Now he’s sitting across my boardroom table in the city I built for myself, looking for the woman he married. She’s gone. What’s left is stronger.