Imagination Flashback

There's a girl who named Inabelle Kaye Arnandez. she's has the beauty that everyone could ask for, But she's just a poor one. In order save her sister from death,she need to sale herself. She's sleeped with the man named Zarko Lein Draxler. ——— THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Who said a parallel universe does not exist! He swore never to fall in love again. He's ruthless and cold. Lucas Quinn, is rich beyond anyone's wildest imagination and no one has ever been able to get close to him. All he cares about in life is perfection, which he always is looking for in novels and what not. But then an unruly, perfectly imperfect lady, Tasha Rowan, bumps into him, ruining a first edition book signed by the best-selling classic author in town. And she is the exact version of his dead girlfriend!

***Trigger Warning: *** Flashback to a year ago… I am chained to the bed, lying on my tummy. His touch that once meant everything to me, now feels like acid burning my skin. He unties my legs, but leaves my arms shackled. “Knees on the bed, ass in the air.” He commands, and I sob and try to kick him away. He pushes my head down into the pillow and I struggle for air. “Don’t make this harder on yourself, you filthy whore.” He says in my ear and I sob when he lets go of my head. “Please, don’t do this Phillip. You are hurting me, just let me go.” I pleaded and he chuckled. “You are mine. Mine to do with as I please. And right now, I said, knees on the bed, and ass in the air!” he yells. ------ Running for her life and looking for a fresh start. All Alexia wanted was to survive, and draw no attention to herself. Fate, it seems, had other plans for her in the form of Carter Quinn. Who is this man, and what are these feelings he elicits in her? Will he be able to put the pieces of this broken woman back together again? Or will they crash and burn, when her past and future collide. Secrets, lies and half-truths all come to light, as they discover what they really mean to each other.

Caution: This book contains erotica, dark romance, taboo themes, BDSM, GAY, LESBIAN and all the wicked, beautiful things your imagination craves. Enter at your own risk — and pleasure. Sex, Sin & Silk is a collection of steamy tales where passion knows no boundaries and desire walks the edge of sin. Between the softness of silk and the sting of surrender, lovers find themselves tangled in secrets, temptation, and power. Every story is a dance between control and chaos, lust and love — a reminder that sometimes, the most dangerous thing isn’t the sin itself… it’s how good it feels.

WARNING: This book is dripping in sin. It contains unapologetically explicit smut—raw, steamy, and wildly taboo. If you're not into filthy fantasies, solo indulgence, beast x human, wolf x wolf or human heat, dominant billionaire bosses, fae seductions, or lust-fueled encounters with no strings attached, turn back now. But if you're craving a no-holds-barred ride through 170 explosive, pulse-pounding steamiest stories that will leave your body aching and your imagination on fire, welcome, my daring guest. Everything here is pure fantasy, purely mine. Read at your own risk... of intense arousal.

To catch her sister's murderer, Talulla Calapati, a nameless eccentric mystery writer has to retrieve the darkest fear she deemed to forget - her memories. While on the midst of searching, she accidentally witnessed a murder of a fifteen-year-old girl in the old abandoned mansion on the hill. The murderer was the beauty of their town - Geneviève Sanarez. She quickly ran to the Police Station and reported the incident. However, because of her profession, no one believed her. Police declared that it was only a product of her imagination when no corpse has discovered. But, Talulla is determined to stop this killer, even if it costs her everything-including her own life.

PSYCHOTHERAPIST© ALL RIGHTS RESERVEDThis is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously.Rated SPG - 18+Matured Content  Not Suitable For Young Audiences.SYPNOSISSi Monica Esquibel. Ang simpleng mag-aaral na may dinadalang mabigat na problema. Ang problema sa pamilya't kaibigan ang mag tutulak sa kanya upang pag-tangkaan ang kanyang sariling buhay.Pamilya't kaibigan na magiging sanhi ng depression na kayang ka-haharapin, at dagdagan pa ng isang problemang di pwede kaninoman; Kahit sa kanyangPSYCHOTHERAPIST.

The book is the first-person account of a young biracial Mexican and African American woman, Evelyn Rosalyn Amiss. She repeatedly transports in time between her home in Texas and then Newark, New Jersey to different time periods. She meets and helps some of her ancestors along the way. This is my first journey into a fantasy, time travel novel. I hope you stick around for each riveting, historical and spicy page turner. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living, or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Tunnels deconstructs the individual’s Romantic fascination with ‘love’ or the grammaticality of beauty. Ideally, the ‘tunnels’ in the collection are subterranean love poems from the suburban imaginary. These seemingly syntactic tunnels travel through one’s literary imagination or heterotopic dreamscapes, and while αγάπη (Greek for ‘love’) inspires these rhizomic tunnels to navigate the abysmal ‘meta-spectacle’ of gesture, language or moment of poemness, the mind like the many-colored jeepneys of Manila, where driving past roast goose restaurants in Shek Kip Mei or spotting stilt houses in Kampong Kleang, attempt to explore the transgeneric textualities of the everyday, alongside the unstructurality of time and space, the littoral and the liminal.

I know it’s wrong to want my dad’s best friend, a man who was old enough to be my dad, but what could I possibly do when I see him in my dream and imagination each time I close my eyes? What could I do when this desire keeps driving me nuts, when I keep getting wet down there just at the sight of him? I tasted the forbidden fruit, and I liked it. I liked every inch of it, and now I can’t bring myself to stop wanting more…