Jakeila Ortiz Pop Smoke

Yvonne Jamison wants to get married after being with Jared Ford for seven years. She prepares her own wedding dress, but he doesn't pop the question. On the day they're scheduled for a pre-marriage medical checkup, she waits for him at the hospital from day to night. Yet, he's busy throwing a celebration for his new secretary. The secretary shares a social media update and tags Yvonne in it. The update comes with a photo of a diamond ring from Jared and a suggestive caption. Yvonne doesn't cause a fuss. She likes the update, quits her job, and goes home for a blind date. Jared is unfazed. He's sure she won't actually leave him. "I'll just give her the cold shoulder for a few days to teach her a lesson. She'll be back soon enough." However, the days pass, and Yvonne doesn't return. Jared loses his cool. For the first time ever, he submits to Yvonne. "Have you had enough of this tantrum? Come back if you still want to marry me. This is your last chance!" "Mr. Ford, Ms. Jamison has already met someone else on a blind date." Later, Yvonne shares a photo of her marriage certificate on her social media. Jared, who has always been arrogant and aloof, loses his mind. He kneels outside her house in the rain for three days and nights. "Please come back to me, Yvonne!" The door opens, and a man clad in nothing but a towel around his waist emerges. He says hoarsely, "My wife has fallen asleep from her exhaustion. Please leave, Mr. Ford."

His fingers trailed across my skin, making goosebumps pop up. The featherlight touch was driving me insane with need. He parted my thighs and stepped between them. His eyes drank in my features as if he was trying to memorize them. I always felt out of control around him, but I had a feeling that he loved that. "Tell me what you want, Violet," he murmured, his hand gently wrapping around me throat. "Tell me what you desire.” Enzo's other hand went to my skirt and began pushing it up until my white thong was showing. His finger ran over its wet center. A sinful smirk tugged at his lips. "Naughty little Violet is already so wet, and we haven't even begun. Tell me what you want, or we'll go back to work." His eyebrow rose up, awaiting my response. "You. I want you to touch me," I breathed out. ***** Enzo Vittori is a mystery to most. They believe that the CEO of Vittori Enterprises has everything that he could want. However, the one thing that he does not have is someone to stand beside him as an equal, someone to claim as his own. Violet Starling is a curveball that fate throws into his path. A woman who draws him in without even trying – a woman who will fight until her final breath is taken. Secrets blanket her reality and threaten her life. All it takes is one night for everything to change. They say that she is not human. They say that her mother is not really dead. Can Enzo protect her even when forces want her dead? Can she tame Mr. Vittori who is known for his cold, indifferent, and calculating presence? One thing is certain. Their journey will be filled with trials, passion, and spice.

Adrian Moretti’s adopted sister—She knew perfectly well that I suffered from severe asthma and could not be exposed to smoke or strong scents. Yet during the yacht reception, she deliberately dragged me onto the open deck, where cigars burned nonstop and the wind howled. Within seconds, my chest tightened. When I reached for my inhaler, my blood ran cold. It was empty. I collapsed against the railing, gasping violently, my lungs burning as if they were collapsing in on themselves. She crouched beside me and smiled. “You’re always so dramatic. It’s just a little smoke. You don’t need to act like you’re dying,” she said softly. “You’re too weak. You need to build some tolerance.” I looked toward Adrian, my vision already blurring. “Adrian,” I choked. “Give me my inhaler. If I don’t use it right now, I’m going to suffocate.” He frowned slightly. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” he said coldly. “I’ve never heard of anyone dying from a bit of smoke. She’s right—you’re always seeking attention. We finally gathered tonight, and you’re ruining it.” My heart dropped. I fumbled for my phone and called my mother. “Mom,” I sobbed, barely able to breathe. “I’m being bullied… and I can’t breathe.” My voice shook violently.

I am the wife of the capital city’s esteemed tycoon. We were married in secret for three years. At the celebratory banquet, I was about to make our relationship public. However, his first love, Juvelia Shaw, stumbled into the hall clutching her torn collar. “Edwin, save me! Peri Sanders brought along her penniless brother. He just forced a kiss on me in the lounge! “He says he’s your brother-in-law. If I want to get into the Gough family, I have to please him.... Argh! I have been defiled!” The room fell deathly silent before erupting into a chorus of finger-pointing and curses. They accused me of forcing my brother to assault the esteemed tycoon’s woman just to secure his favor. Edwin Gough’s eyes blazed crimson. He ripped off his coat and wrapped it tightly around Juvelia. Then, he flung a glass of red wine at my face. Gritting his teeth, he glared at me. “Peri, bring out that beast of a brother of yours!” “Since his mouth is so vile, let’s pull out his teeth and cut his tongue off to feed the dogs! Otherwise, I’ll make the entire Sanders family pay with their lives!” Amidst the crowd’s looks of contempt and disgust, I burst into laughter. My brother had long since lost his voice. Three years ago, in a fire, he had inhaled excessive smoke while saving Edwin, which had destroyed his vocal cords. His tongue was gone too.

I was the firm’s star. The one they called for the impossible cases. My latest miracle? The “Titan Project” patent case. I made the firm a billion dollars. My cut was supposed to be a two-million-dollar bonus. But today, a fresh-faced intern waltzed off with it. I thought payroll had made a mistake and stormed straight into the senior partner's office. “Preston. My two-million-dollar bonus. Tell me there’s been a mistake.” Preston didn’t even bother to look up. “Victoria, I’ve looked into it. We won this case because of Chloe’s client management.” “She was schmoozing clients. Late-night golf games. Weekend yacht parties. While you were what, exactly?” “You never showed your face outside the courtroom. Teamwork is everything.” I almost laughed. It was absurd. “She’s a rookie who can’t even recite the rules of discovery.” “Enough!” Preston cut me off. “The firm doesn’t make mistakes. I see what everyone contributes.” “If you're not happy, you can prove your worth somewhere else.” He tossed a severance agreement on the desk. My heart went cold. I signed it on the spot. Before I left, I got the last word. “Preston, next time the firm has a real fight on its hands, you’d better call your social butterfly, Chloe. Don’t bother me.” He blew a perfect smoke ring, smirking right through it. Unfazed. Soon later, my phone blew up. It was him. Begging me to come back and save his ass.

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️ This book contains feral mate bonds, primal claiming, blood-soaked org*sms, and possessive men who do not share well but are about to learn they have too as the first Triad mate bond in millenniums though just to be a myth is about to tie them all together. If the words “bite,” “knot,” and “mine” make your toes curl, welcome home baby. Bloodbound: The Vampire Trials They told her the Trials were to prove her worth. They didn’t mention the blood-drenched battles… The savage power pulsing under her skin… Or the three dangerously obsessed men who’d be fated to crave her like a curse. Valkhara came to win and nothing else. But surviving means enduring brutal magical Trials, evading death at every turn, and resisting the feral hunger clawing through her bond. Sevrin: the cold, brutal vampire king with eyes like stormclouds and a voice that commands along with magic that can control blood Azric: the mind-reading menace who whispers her filthiest thoughts right back to her. Daxos: a war god wrapped in smoke and muscle, made to mark, knot, and conquer. Each one touches a different part of her soul. Each one claims her in ways she never saw coming. And the deeper they sink in, the more power she unlocks. But this isn’t just about lust or love, it’s about vengeance, destiny, and ripping the truth from the council’s cold, dead hands. Because Valkhara isn’t just bonded. She’s becoming unstoppable. Other Info

Gina and I were just ordinary werewolves in the Silver Claw Pack. Our incomes were modest, but we married well. Her mate was the captain of the Silver Claw Pack patrol unit. Mine, the fire squad leader. They grew up together—childhood friends—and were the youngest golden duo in the Werewolf Alliance. On the day we married, our mates each bought us a luxury high-rise apartment on the top floor of the central castle, side by side, with the promise of sharing life and death together. That is, until that fateful night. Rogues broke into the central zone. Chaos reached even the upper levels of our building. The tower caught fire. Amidst the thick smoke, I sent a desperate mind-link to my mate. He blocked it. Turns out, both our mates were busy shielding their shared first love, Lifu. They ignored our calls for help. Gina dragged me as we ran. She was six months pregnant; her pup was already kicking from the panic. Her mate never showed up either. We made it to the stairwell, where we were trapped for five hours. Toxic fumes filled our lungs. I went into labor too early. My pup didn't make it. Gina bled for three days in the hospital. Her pup was gone too. Meanwhile, our mates were digging through the wreckage—twenty-four hours straight—searching for Lifu's lost dog. That was it. Right then and there, Gina and I looked at each other and knew. We were done.

Sometimes God gave you what you want, sometimes you were born a werewolf rather than some pathetic little human, sometimes you got a chance to become a Human queen and rule both species… And, just like that, sometimes life fucked you up by letting you meet your mate whom you're supposed to reject, sometimes things get even more fucked up when your mate turns out to be a priest, the person who raised you, and sometimes your fucked up mind decided to seduce him. No, the fucked up things didn't stop yet, sometimes that person who always treated you like a child, the person who was not even supposed to touch any woman, responds to your innocent kiss by eating up your wet filthy hole as if his life depended on it as if the world is ending, and he will never get to eat again, and the thing between your thighs seems like the sweetest dessert to him. And finally, sometimes, you forget all the rules, you forget what is right and what is wrong when your miserable heart dares to yearn for someone you weren't even supposed to dream about, a saint. ••• " Remove your clothes, Freya.", he ordered in a low husky voice. But I didn't move...couldn't move as I watched him. His big body leaned over a bundle of dry grass, tight black shirt covered his hard chest, two buttons open, showing his pale white skin, his belt...now opened, slack just down enough for his dick to pop out, thick veiny shaft, wrapped under his slender fingers, its head, red as if his dick was angry. And when I looked up at his face, I couldn't believe he was the same man who raised me!

There were five things I was absolutely certain I wouldn't miss even if I became blind: -The first one was the fact that I was a slave and my life would never go back to the way it was. -The Second one was the Duke who bought me was a dragon hiding his identity for a reason I didn't know. Weren't dragons supposed to be powerful and all? Using his race might give him a huge advantage in politics. -The third one I was certain the Duke was hungry for me and I started to love him. Furthermore, he was cursed and the cursed ones didn't live for more than a year. Conquering him was a lost cause; a battle with less than 50% of success. However… Was it really necessary to label numbers on everything that was happening? -The Fourth one: Was it really necessary for Dotoria, the human land, to curse the other races existing within its borders? I wasn't confident about the statement. Nonetheless, everyone was looking for a wish granter gem. The nine kingdoms collided eying the gemstone like a prize for dominion. -The Fifth one had the magic of belief in it; Do you work on your dream or stay back hiding behind a smoke of mist fearing failure? I wanted to escape but I gradually lost interest in it. The world was a mystery in my eyes and I was taught to never engage in a battle with less than 50% of success. Do I even have a dream because the only thing I wished for was the reason I was a slave. People were driven by dreams and goals and I didn't have one yet.

In 1612, he couldn’t save her. In 2026, he might not want to. Elias Thorne was a man of maps and measurements, the King’s most trusted surveyor, until the smoke of the Lancashire witch trials choked the life out of everything he loved. Catherine wasn’t a witch—she was just an innocent woman caught in the gears of a superstitious world. When Elias was turned into something monstrous that same year, he didn't see it as a curse; he saw it as a deadline. He had forever to find a way to bring her back. For four centuries, Elias moved through the shadows of history, building an empire of wealth and dark influence. He hunted every myth, funded every occult discovery, and bled for every lead—all to find a soul that refused to return. He grew bitter, his heart hardening into the very stone of the London streets he walked. He eventually gave up on the heavens and the hells, settling into a life of cold, immortal apathy. Then, on a Tuesday afternoon, he sees her. She’s standing in line for coffee, wearing headphones and a denim jacket, looking exactly like the woman he watched die under a grey Jacobean sky. She has no memory of the fire, the maps, or the man who has spent four hundred years hating the world for her sake. Now, Elias faces a choice: Walk away and let her live the peaceful life he once prayed for, or reclaim a love that doesn’t belong to him anymore. But Catherine has secrets of her own—and in the modern world, the ghosts of 1612 are finally starting to catch up.