Novel & Cerita How Was Sonic The Hedgehog Born

Blurb “Admit it, you want me,” Frank said, staring deep into my eyes like I was the best thing he had ever seen. “I…don't.” “Real believable glasses.” He murmured, inching closer and closer. “Stop me if you truly believe your body isn't aching for me like mine is.” And then he claimed my lips in a searing hot kiss that left my body aching for him and my pussy dripping. Mimi Salvador has one rule: keep her fantasies on paper. The awkward, book-smart college writer has spent years hiding behind her laptop, secretly crafting spicy fanfiction about her stepbrother, Danny, the campus hockey golden boy. But when a mix-up at his game hands her smutty manuscript to his arrogant rival, Frank Santiago, her carefully built world combusts. Frank, cocky, tattooed, and maddeningly irresistible, should be her worst nightmare. Instead, he becomes her reluctant savior, claiming to be her boyfriend to save her from public humiliation. But pretending to date the campus bad boy comes with consequences… like stolen kisses that feel too real, late-night texts that make her heart race, and the terrifying realization that she might be writing her next fanfiction about him. Now Mimi’s torn between the boy she’s always loved and the one who’s making her rewrite every fantasy she’s ever had. In a campus where secrets spread faster than gossip, one mistake could cost her everything, including her heart. steamy, enemies-to-lovers, fake-dating hockey romance about love, lust, and learning that sometimes the best stories are the ones that write themselves.

I've been a goody-two-shoes for 18 years. The only outrageous thing I've ever done is get into a secret relationship with my stepbrother, Kieran Brock, even though my mom and my stepfather, Andre Brock, are still living in the same house as us. During the day, we're stepsiblings who aren't familiar with each other. At night, however, we tangle with each other heatedly in the same bed. During the fifth year of our underground relationship, I accidentally overhear Kieran's conversation with his friend. "When you were 21, you robbed your stepsister of her virginity. Now that you've toyed with her for five years, aren't you planning on giving her a legitimate position by your side?" I feel my heart tensing. Somehow, I look forward to hearing Kieran's answer. As Kieran plays with his lighter, he shoots his friend a flippant smile. "Like you said, she's my sister. She's not meant to be known as my lover. Had I not plan on getting revenge on her mom for ruining my family, there's no way I'd sleep with her! "Also, I've already proposed to Vivian. She's the only woman who is worthy of becoming my wife." I don't break down and demand answers from Kieran. Instead, I pretend to not hear anything as I turn on my heel and walk away. On the day of Kieran's wedding, he specifically tells his friends to watch over the venue to prevent me from causing trouble there. What he doesn't know is that I've already boarded a flight meant for another country. This time, I will never come back.

There's an unwritten rule in the Chicago Outfit. The Don never keeps a mistress for more than a hundred days. When the hundred days are up, the women he’s finished with always take the money and leave quietly. Once, someone asked him, unwilling to accept it: “Why?” Santino Falcone smiled softly.“Because I love my wife.” Everyone knew that his wife of seven years was his weak spot. But this new mistress wouldn’t behave.Emboldened by his favor, she sent me a taunting text message. “Arabella, isn’t your husband cute when he’s asleep in my arms?I’ve got plenty more photos. I can send them to you if you want.” “I’m his one true love. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll step down and give me your place as his wife.” I didn’t argue with her.Instead, I generously gave her my wedding ring. Because what she didn't know was that I had gotten my memory back. I was never the orphan Santino saved. I am the long-lost princess of New York’s most powerful family, missing for seven years. In three days, my brother Matteo’s armored motorcade will arrive in Chicago to take me home.

I'm the daughter of Don Falcone. After I got back from studying abroad, my family threw a welcome-home banquet, conveniently setting me up to meet the fiancé my father had handpicked for me—Santino Moretti. My father praised the guy to the skies in his letters: he was the heir to the Moretti family, elegant, ruthless, drop-dead gorgeous, and holding half the city’s underground operations in the palm of his hand. I arrived at the Elysium Hotel right on the dot. Just as I was about to take a seat, a hand shoved me hard. A woman's shrill voice pierced my ear. "Livia, what's a Sicilian peasant like you doing here? This is the Imperial Suite. Do you think you even deserve to breathe the air in a place like this?" I recognized the woman. It was Bella, a bitch who had always had it out for me back in college. She was clearly trying to humiliate me. Instead of getting mad, I smirked. "Whether I deserve to be here or not—is that for you to decide?" Bella sneered, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm Mr. Santino's personal assistant. Today, Mr. Santino is hosting the eldest daughter of the Falcone family here. This isn't an occasion for bottom-feeding trash like you." "Be smart and crawl back to your slum." I pulled out my phone and dialed my so-called fiancé. I wanted to ask him if it was a tradition in the Moretti family to let their dogs bark at the front door.

Two years ago, as a graduate of Werewolf Medical School, I volunteered to go to the most remote and poorest pack, as it had always been my dream to help werewolf patients in need. I heard from my teacher that the werewolves in the Rogue Pack were the poorest and that their living conditions were the worst. Most of the werewolves there were old and weak, so I volunteered to go to that pack as soon as I graduated. After I arrived, I helped them build an infirmary and even set up a blood station. Every year, I led them in voluntary blood donations. But one time—right after I had taken a short break following a blood donation—they turned on me. They slandered me, calling me a selfish and heartless healer. Worse still, they accused me of faking illness, claiming I was lying comfortably in bed while patients were dying—refusing to lift a finger to save them. Not only that, they stormed into the infirmary, seized all my herbs and equipment, and completely trashed the place I had built for them with my own hands. Recalling the days I had spent day and night healing them—only to see my infirmary destroyed and my dream shattered—I let out a bitter smile. I picked up the phone and called the dean of my home pack. "I'm ready to return," I said. "I want to serve the patients in our own pack." Then, without a trace of regret, I left that place behind. However, after I gave up, the whole pack regretted it and begged me to return.

My superior loved tricking me into wearing tight-fitting pencil skirts to serve wine to sleazy clients while sticking close to them. Then, she would hint that I was single and a valid target while she excitedly waited for the clients to make a move on me. It was all in the name of checking the integrity of the clients and whether they were worthy business partners or not. The moment a client fell for it, she would rush over with righteous anger and throw wine in their faces. Then, she would lecture me with a voice heavy with anguish. “Do you lack money so much that you’d throw your dignity away just for better results?” She would trample all over my dignity to set up her image as a refined, noble woman. This time, she even prepared a gown with a super low neckline and pushed me to serve a client with a rich and powerful background. She threatened me by saying that if I did not go, she would deduct my bonus for three whole months of full attendance. But when I saw the familiar, cold man sitting in the seat of honor, it was my turn to laugh. If my brother saw me serving wine in this kind of dress, I did not doubt that by tomorrow, the company would be under my name.

His gun-roughened hands burned against my waist, every breath laced with the cold, unyielding possession that had made him the most feared Cosa Nostra Don in all of Sicily. A shrill ring sliced through the haze. He answered in guttural Sicilian. It was the dialect I’d learned years ago to fit into his world, so I caught every word. His consigliere was screaming down the line at him for filing a valid, legally binding marriage license with Sofia Lombardi, the woman who’d abandoned him when a bomb left him mute for seven years. Luca’s order was cold as a trigger pull. “Secure the original license in the family vault. Draw up a forged, null-and-void marriage license for Isa to keep her compliant.” In the eyes of the law, of his entire crew, I was nothing but his mistress. After seven years of laying down my life for him, I’d been reduced to nothing but his mistress. Another call flashed. Luca turned to me, the lie already shaping his mouth. “Family matters. The guards will see you home.” Without a word, I stepped out into the Palermo night, my hands shaking as I dialed his mother, Anna Vitali. “I’ll take your fifty million euros. I’ll leave Luca. For good.” Anna once said Luca and I were worlds apart. I had to admit she was right. This time, I want to leave with dignity.

My mate, Theo Burke, dies in a fight. Our son, Jax Burke, has now lost his father. Liam Burke, Theo's twin older brother, consoles me by saying, "I will treat Jax like my own son." He keeps his word, taking excellent care of Mia Parker, his mate, and me. However, I happen to overhear a conversation he has with a witch, Agatha Rune. "Give me more of that potion that masks my scent. I can't let Olivia find out that I'm Theo." This is how I find out that my mate isn't dead after all. He has simply adopted Liam's identity and now spends every night in bed with Mia next door. In order to get an heir with a purer bloodline, he assumes the identity of his dead twin brother and breeds with Mia. What he doesn't know is that I'm the daughter of the most powerful Alpha King in the Southern Woodlands. As it stands, a far superior bloodline flows in Jax's veins.

One day, at work, there was an emergency surgery. As the doctor in charge, I reassigned the hospital’s only remaining dose of a highly sought-after specialty drug. The moment I stepped out of the operating room, I was escorted away by the Office of Medical Affairs and Governance. They accused me of improperly authorizing the use of a restricted medication and informed me that my medical license could be revoked. As I struggled to defend myself, a new intern hired by the chief of my department sent me a message. [Dr. Britton, how could you reassign a restricted medication without approval? Dr. Guzman worked incredibly hard to secure that drug for the department. You can’t just take it because you feel like it! I have a responsibility to help the chief keep things running smoothly, so I reported you to Medical Affairs. Doctors are supposed to put patients first. Someone like you doesn’t deserve to wear a white coat. From now on, every medication request in this department will require both my review and signature!] I could not help but laugh when I read it. That intern had only been in the department for a month. Seeing how approachable and easygoing the department chief was, she had apparently decided that it was her job to police everyone else. What she did not know was that my grandfather owned the hospital. That imported miracle drug everyone had been fighting to obtain? I had led the research team that developed it. In fact, I held the patent. Even the eight-hundred-dollar monthly stipend she received as an intern came from the funding allocated to my research program. How could using a drug I myself had invented ever constitute a protocol violation?

I was once the pack's strongest beta. I broke my wolf saving my mate, Alpha Damon. I lost my hearing. I lost our mind link. But Damon never treated me like I was broken. He learned sign language for me. He made sure the whole pack respected me as their Luna. Our daughter was sweet and perfect. She always showed me how much she loved me. Then one day, it happened. My hearing returned. The mind link snapped back into place. I was so excited. I wanted to tell Damon and Lily at the full moon ceremony. Instead, I heard them. Lily, my precious daughter, talking to Damon on our link. "Daddy, the cripple is still carrying my brother. When can we bring Momma Elara home? I want her to be our real Luna!" That’s when I knew. My daughter. The son in my womb. They were never mine. They belonged to Elara. Elara was a half-breed omega. She couldn't carry an Alpha’s pups. I was just a surrogate. A living incubator. Damon fed me poison to make me barren. Then he used black magic to implant his lover's child inside me. I trembled. Tears streamed down my face. Damon betrayed me. I would burn his entire world to ash. Then, I would vanish from his life forever.