Large Print Novels & Stories

To scrape together enough money for tickets home on New Year’s Eve, I took on a part-time job and accidentally entered a livestream where money was being thrown around. The boy on screen had fair skin and wore a high-end knit sweater, with a luxuriously decorated villa behind him. “It’s too boring being kept here. My sugar mommy gives me more money than I can spend. Let’s do some giveaways.” Excited, I grabbed several large cash drops in a row. The money for my girlfriend’s and my tickets was almost enough. Then the boy suddenly leaned close to the camera. “She keeps saying the tear mole under my eye looks like her boyfriend’s. What bad luck, sharing the same feature as some poor loser.” My fingers trembled. I had a tear mole in the exact same spot. A comment floated by: [How could a sugar mommy’s boyfriend be poor?] The boy sneered, running a hand through his hair. “She’s just playing around. Told him she’s a million in debt, and he’s dumb enough to work and help her pay it off.” My heart went cold. My girlfriend was also supposedly a million in debt. “The funniest part is, she just spent three days with me. When she left, I asked if she still had the energy to go be with him. “She said as long as she tells him she’s going to wash dishes at a barbecue place, that idiot will feel bad and go deliver food to make some extra money overnight.” Another big cash drop came in. I had enough now. My phone rang. Wren’s voice sounded tired as she said, “Aran, the ticket money isn’t enough… I made a little over two hundred dollars washing dishes. I’ll head home now.”

MATURED CONTENT!!! “ I could smell how much you want us.” I moaned, my body arching against his touch. I felt hands on my body, fingers tracing the curves of my breasts, my hips, my thighs. I shivered in pleasure, my body on fire. Ryker leaned in, his breath hot against my ear as he whispered, "You have no idea how badly we've been longing for this. Caspian chuckled darkly, his large hand cupping one of my breasts. "Mmm, and what a sight you are. So wet for us already." Thane's voice was a rumble in his chest as he ran his fingers along my inner thigh. “I could taste your desire, even in your sleep. You've been craving our touch." At the prestigious Crescent Academy, power is everything, and Omegas like Aria are nothing. Forced into the lowest class due to a suppressed wolf form, Aria endures humiliation, cruelty, and punishment just to earn her freedom from her manipulative stepmother’s grasp. But Aria isn’t weak. She’s hiding something far more dangerous than anyone can imagine. An ancient, overpowered lineage that could tip the balance of the entire werewolf world. When she crosses paths with the untouchable Apex brothers, sparks fly, tempers flare, and forbidden bonds begin to form. Cold and brooding Kaid. Flirtatious and broken Ryker. Gentle and haunted Thane. Reckless and loyal Caspian. They’re drawn to the girl who refuses to kneel, even as their enemies conspire to tear them apart. As a deadly rogue faction emerges and secrets buried in blood and betrayal come to light, Aria must embrace the monster she was told to fear… or lose everything. Fate gave her four mates. Power made her a target. But it’s her rage that will make her a legend.

She suddenly stopped when she heard faint voices."Tim, what are you doing here?" A woman's voice asked fiercely, turning to a guy.Her voice was almost a whisper, but she knew it was Carrie's."We both know I'm the father, so why did you force that man to marry you and tell everyone he's the father?" She was talking to a man who asked her angrily.As soon as she heard them talking, she quickly covered her mouth to keep from gasping."Tim, I'm sure you understand. You cannot guarantee your son a happy life. What benefits can you provide to us as a teacher? Just imagine how easy your son's life will be with Sean Montarde. Don't be egotistical. Leave now before he notices you." Carrie pleaded."Carrie, please.""Look, Tim, we can still continue what we have even if I'm already married. Of course, I still want you."She witnessed Carrie touching his face, too. They were ready to kiss when she turned away and quickly ran into a man's large, strong body.She was astonished when she saw the man's face. Sean turned to stare at the two, his eyes becoming more narrow. She realized right away that he had heard everything."S-sean?" When Carrie saw the two of them, she uttered a terrified statement."The wedding is off then!" Sean said firmly. As soon as he finished speaking, he instantly grabbed her hand and drew her away.Wait! Why is he taking her along with him?He kept walking until they got into a car. While clutching the steering wheel, he turned to face her."Would you like to be my substitute bride?"Her eyes widened at his unexpected question. He kissed her on the lips, which made her even more motionless.

My father was critically ill. I begged my fiancé to keep his post-wedding promise—to withdraw emergency funds from the medical trust fund he had sworn to protect me forever. He refused. The next day, he announced his engagement to Pera. Overnight, I became the laughingstock of everyone. In my deepest despair, my childhood friend Seamus— The heir to a long-established Mafia family— Knelt down in the park and proposed to me in front of everyone. That night, he transferred a large sum of money to my account. I said yes without hesitation and rushed to the hospital to pay for my father's treatment. But he never woke up again. The hospital said he had suffered "unexpected complications." Everything after that—the lawyers, the funeral, all the arrangements—was handled by Seamus. Under the Mafia family's protection, everything went smoothly, and my father was able to be quietly buried. The wedding proceeded as planned. Years later, I overheard a conversation between him and the doctor who treated my father. “Seamus,” the doctor said in a low voice, “You tampered with the organ allocation priority list. You delayed Shirley’s father’s transplant so that Pera’s father could receive an organ transplant in time. You falsified the urgency level. Do you know what will happen if this is exposed?” “The list itself was legal,” Seamus replied after a pause. “I just…adjusted the urgency level.” “You committed medical fraud,” the doctor said sharply. “You ruined his only chance to live. All for Pera. Don’t you regret it?” “I don’t regret it,” Seamus answered without hesitation. “I would do anything for her. Even my life, even the honor of the Mafia family.” “Throughout our marriage, I’ve been trying to make up for everything I owed Shirley. That should be enough.” My vision blurred. Only then did I finally understand— The woman he truly loved was always Pera. "If that's really the case," I thought numbly,"Then I should leave."

"Fuck, you're so tight for me," Ryder growled against my ear, his hips slamming forward in a deep, punishing thrust that made my back arch off the bed. I gasped, nails digging into his shoulders as he filled me completely, stretching me. "Harder... please..." He pinned my wrists above my head with one large hand, the other gripping my hip hard enough to bruise. "You want it rough, baby? Then beg for it properly." My body trembled under him, slick and desperate. The words spilled out before I could stop them. "Please... Daddy... fuck me harder." A dark, satisfied rumble vibrated through his chest. He leaned down, teeth grazing my neck, voice low and filthy. "Good girl. Come all over Daddy's cock. Show me how much you need this.” *** On my wedding day, I caught my fiancé Dylan Voss and my step-sister Helene fucking each other in a room. Heartbroken and humiliated, I walked away from the altar. That's when Ryder Hawthorne—Dylan's powerful, ruthless stepfather—found me. He carried me to his penthouse, and in a haze of rage and need, I seduced him. We fucked like it was war: rough, and desperate. When Dylan walked in and saw me riding his stepdad—he felt betrayed and stormed out. I felt satisfied and vindicated. It was supposed to be one night. We were never supposed to see each other again. Until I desperately took a job at Hawthorne Prosperity Group to save my dying grandmother…and discovered Ryder was my new boss. One rough, forbidden encounter in his office, and he offered me to be his personal slut, in return he'd pay Gran's bills. I had no choice and accepted. Payback became obsession. My ex wants me back, but Ryder refuses to let go. Now I’m caught between revenge and surrender.

"Oh God!" I moaned softly, the heat of Noah's breath hitting my neck as he buried his face in it. His large arms wrapped tightly around me like he was telling me I was his forever. My arms also found their way around his neck, my hand grabbing his soft blonde hair as his piercing gaze met mine. His lips moved from my neck back to my lips where it was before. His tongue conquered mine while I squirmed inside and moaned in his mouth. I could feel his hot bulge pressing against my stomach. "we shouldn't be doing this Noah" I said breaking the kiss. "Why? Cause you're my brother's wife?" he questioned me, the corner of his soft full lips curling with a smirk. He didn't wait for a reply before going back in for a kiss. This man I was making out with on the kitchen counter was my husband's brother. *** Nana thought she had it all a high-powered career, a stable marriage to her husband Simon, and a future carefully mapped out by their influential families. But behind closed doors, her perfect life unravels as Simon’s cold indifference leaves her lonely and questioning everything. When Noah, Simon’s charismatic younger half-brother, returns from overseas, he’s no longer the boy she remembers. Now, he’s all grown up and offering the understanding and attraction she’s been starved of. As Simon’s betrayals cut deeper, Noah becomes her unexpected confidant, comforting her in ways she never imagined. Yet, beneath his caring facade, Noah has his own agenda, subtly steering Nana’s broken heart closer to his own. Torn between duty and desire, Nana finds herself trapped between two brothers: one who’s betrayed her and one who promises the passion she craves.

I fall in love with my father's friend, an Alpha 20 years my senior. I'm only eight when I first meet him. It happens at a banquet for the upper echelons of the werewolf pack. My father brings me with him. Layson Romanov instantly catches my eye. He stands tall at six feet and two inches, and his toned figure shows through his black suit. He exudes a natural dominance. My father introduces me to him, and he caresses my hair with a smile. Then, he gives me a pink dress adorned with pearls and pink diamonds. "You'll look beautiful when you're old enough to wear this." Back then, I didn't understand what he meant. … Ten years later, I put on that dress and enter his room. He's drugged after falling into someone's trap, and his wolf is out of control. His usually calm eyes are filled with mania. I know that he'll go insane—even lose his life—if he doesn't have an antidote. So, I give him my pure, untainted body. I become his antidote. We later marry, and he loves me as my father would've done. However, when I'm four months pregnant, I discover that his personal secretary, Grace Parker, is also pregnant. "I'm sorry to have put you through this, Grace. Everyone knows I only married Charlotte out of duty. I'll make sure our child is my only heir," he says. It all makes sense now—no wonder Layson refused to mark me despite us being married. Grace is the one he loves. I'm heartbroken. I ingest a large amount of wolfsbane, leading to a miscarriage. I ultimately die of blood loss. Intense regret washes over me as I breathe my last breath. When I open my eyes again, I find that I've been reborn. I'm taken back to the day Layson is drugged…

A week after I gave birth via C-section, Mark Whitman invited his friends over to celebrate the birth of our son. The crowd was boisterous—more than a dozen people. Not one of them bothered to remove their dirty shoes. The wooden floor was soon covered in muddy footprints. Mark came into the room and, without a hint of concern, ordered me out of bed. "Everyone's waiting outside. Don't just hide here and rest—you're embarrassing me in front of our guests." I had no choice but to push through the pain, forcing my body to prepare a huge meal for the large crowd, all on my own. When I carried the final bowl of steaming soup to the table, Lily Hoyte—whether intentionally or not—jabbed her hand against the wound on my abdomen. My hand trembled from the sudden pain, and the bowl slipped slightly, spilling the hot soup onto Lily's shoes. Mark's face darkened instantly. "What the heck did you do, Cammy? Lily rushed here right after her plane landed from overseas to see our son, and this is how you treat her?" The crowd quickly chimed in. "Come on, Cammy, no need to be so petty." "Mark and Lily grew up together. If there was really something between them, do you think you'd even be here now?" "Do you even know how much those shoes cost? They're limited edition—easily over ten thousand dollars. And you just ruined them." Lily stood up awkwardly, her eyes misting with tears. "If Cammy doesn't like me," she said softly, "then I'll leave. I don't want to be a bother." But Mark grabbed her hand in an exaggerated display of protection, his voice harsh as he turned to me. "Wipe Lily's shoes clean. Right now." His partiality for Lily made something sharp twist in my chest. My lips quivered as I fought back tears. "The wound on my stomach hasn't healed yet. I can't bend over." At that, his expression grew colder. "Don't use childbirth as an excuse. If you can't bend over, then kneel and wipe them. And if you won't, get out of my house!"

My father died of esophageal cancer. For the final two years of his life, he could barely swallow anything. By the time he passed, he was nothing but skin and bones. The first New Year after his death, he came to my mother in a dream. "I'm starving," he said. "I just want to taste the thick-cut steak you used to make." My mother believed it without question. That very day, she pan-seared a large platter of steak and carried it to his grave. The next morning, she suffered a sudden heart attack and died on the spot. Devastated, I handled my mother's funeral together with my husband. That same night, my husband dreamed of my father as well. "Chester," he said, "I haven't eaten in so long. I want your pâté, served with some strong liquor." When my husband woke up, he bought the finest liver pâté, opened a bottle of single-malt whiskey, and went straight to the grave. However, not long after returning home, he collapsed from acute liver failure. He was rushed to the ICU and died three days later. I was on the brink of collapse myself. I left my daughter in the care of a close friend while I tried to handle the endless wave of tragedy. That evening, my daughter never came home from school. I searched everywhere, and finally, on the road to the cemetery, I found her. She was clutching a bowl of spicy stew, several grilled sausages floating in the broth. "Mom," she said, "Grandpa and I used to eat this all the time. I dreamed he said he was hungry." I finally lost it. I knocked the bowl from her hands and carried her home. That night, my father appeared in my dream once more. "I suffered so much while alive," he said. "Have some pity on me. "New Year's is coming. I want to come home for a meal. Make sure you cook fish." I woke in terror. Holding my daughter, I sat before the three framed portraits for two full days without eating or drinking. On New Year's morning, I realized she was no longer breathing. Clutched tightly in her hand was a packet of spicy dried salmon. I could not believe it. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother, her eyes red with worry, said she was going out to buy steak.

Les Noces Rouges Anna s’éveille en sursaut, le souffle court. La lumière du réverbère filtre à travers les rideaux, baignant la chambre d’un éclat blafard. L’odeur du fer emplit l’air. Un frisson la traverse. Ce n’est pas une sueur nocturne ni un mauvais rêve. C’est bien réel. Sous les draps froissés, une chaleur moite l’englue. Elle se redresse lentement, sent un liquide visqueux coller à sa peau. Son cœur cogne contre ses côtes lorsqu’elle baisse les yeux. Un corps est là. Allongé à ses côtés. Le hurlement meurt dans sa gorge. Le drap, autrefois blanc, est maculé d’écarlate. Une large entaille court le long de la gorge de l’homme étendu à ses côtés. Ses yeux vitreux la fixent. Anna tremble. Elle cherche l’air, cherche à comprendre. Mais le vide. Son esprit refuse de reconstituer les dernières heures. Le bruit du verre brisé. Une voix chuchotée. Des doigts sur sa peau. Puis... rien. Ses mains, trempées de sang, se crispent sur le matelas. L’odeur du whisky flotte encore dans l’air. Son regard dérive vers la table de chevet. Un couteau de cuisine repose là, luisant sous la lueur pâle. C’est elle. Elle a fait ça. Mais pourquoi ? Elle chancelle en sortant du lit, glisse dans une flaque rouge, son reflet déformé dans le carrelage luisant. Un rire nerveux secoue sa poitrine. Un rire hystérique. Lui, c’était son amant. Son dernier amour. Un bruit la fait sursauter. Une vibration sourde. Son téléphone. Un message. "Tu as bien joué ta part, mon amour. Nous sommes liés par le sang à présent. Ne crains rien, je veille sur toi." Anna fronce les sourcils. Ses doigts tremblants tapotent l’écran. Qui ? Comment ?