Metal Sonic Designs

On my wedding anniversary, I came home to rose petals and champagne. Instead of romance, I found my husband in bed with my sister—wearing the couture gown I designed for her runway debut. He called my designs "boring" and revealed the fashion house I built was actually funded by her secret investor money. The child we adopted? Her biological son with my husband, who she abandoned to chase Paris Fashion Week. I walked out in nothing but the lingerie prototype from my latest collection. In a snowstorm. Straight into an exclusive fashion week after-party where I met him: a mysterious man who mistook me for a model and offered me a drink that tasted like freedom. One night later, I owed him $100,000. Three months later, I discovered I was pregnant. And when I showed up to my job interview at the biggest fashion conglomerate in the industry, ready to prove my designs could save their failing luxury brand, the CEO sitting across from me was the same man from that night. He remembers me. He wants his money back. And he's offering me $5 million if I can take his brand from fashion week laughingstock to top five in three major shows. I took the bet. I just didn't tell him about the baby. Or that my ex-husband's textile company supplies the fabric for every major fashion house—including his.

Ean's face twisted with anger as he grabbed me by the arm, dragging me toward the old, rusted freezer in the corner of the warehouse. "You're going to feel what Helen felt," he spat. "Maybe that'll teach you not to mess with her." I struggled against him, panic rising in my chest. "Ean, this is insane! It was an accident! Let me explain—" He wasn’t listening. He shoved me inside the freezing metal box and slammed the door shut. The echo of the lock clicking into place made my heart pound in my ears. I banged on the door with my fists. "Ean, please! You can’t do this!" I screamed, but the sound of his footsteps grew fainter as he walked away. He left me with nothing but a single bowl of water, like I was some kind of prisoner. I slumped against the cold metal, shivering. The temperature plummeted almost instantly. The hum of the freezer kicked in, and I realized too late—it wasn’t broken like he thought. It was working, and I was trapped. My body shook uncontrollably as the cold seeped into my bones. I screamed for help until my throat was raw, clawing at the walls in desperation. My bloody handprints smeared across the icy surface, a silent plea for mercy that no one would hear. Seven days passed. When Ean finally returned, the look on his face was one of smug satisfaction. He had expected me to beg, to apologize. But when they pried open the freezer, all they found was my frozen body, stiff and silent, my suffering long over.

Getting drunk on the night of her graduation was never a part of Andrea Dale’s plan. She was supposed to be finishing the designs for her new clothing line before the deadline. She had only planned to make a quick appearance at the party before getting back to work...but instead, she ended up drunk and dragged into her crush’s room. It was a trap. What should have been one night of celebration spiralled into something else when she realised she wasn't the one that woke up on his bed, but her step sister... Amelia, who later found out she was pregnant for him.

"Wider, Millie. Yes, that's it." I lay weakly on the examination table, my hands unconsciously gripping the sheets. The voice behind me was low and restrained, but it made my ears burn. This examination position was too embarrassing. My buttocks were forced to arch high like some kind of submissive gesture. "Doctor, I can't open any wider..." I bit my lower lip, my voice trembling deliberately. I could see my reflection in the metal bars of the examination table. My messy hair stuck to my flushed cheeks as my eyes shone with a watery, dreamy glow.

Calen was a benchwarmer on the university swim team, someone who never actually competed. The captain, Karl, was everything he wasn’t, a campus golden boy. Three records broken. A new girlfriend every other week. One night, Calen realized he’d left something behind and went back to the locker room. That was when he heard it. Ragged breathing. Strained, barely held back. And beneath it… the slow, awful sound of metal bending under pressure. He pushed the door open. Karl stood with his back to him. His bare muscles writhed beneath his skin, moving wrong, his spine standing out in sharp ridges. His fingers were dug deep into the steel locker, nails tearing through metal, leaving long, brutal gouges. The air was thick with the smell of blood… and something wild. Predatory. Karl snapped around. His eyes burned gold in the dark. Blood stained the corner of his mouth, and when he bared his teeth, the canines were far too long. Far too sharp. He ran. He barely took two steps before something crashed into him from behind, slamming him to the floor. Karl’s weight pinned him down, his body radiating heat… too hot, almost painful. A low voice brushed his ear. “You saw something you weren’t meant to see.” “I won’t say anything….” Karl lowered his head, his nose grazing his neck as he inhaled slowly, deeply. “…You smell fucking irresistible.”

Margarette "Maggie" Sandoval, at the age of 25 and as the breadwinner of the family, she already put a name in the fashion industry. Everyone praised her for her impressive designs and also how successful she is in her career. She is closed to a perfect type of woman. Now that she gave her family a better life that they deserve, she wishes to settle down for good and get married. So when her long-time boyfriend proposed to her, she didn't hesitate to say yes. But her world turned upside-down when she woke up in a different room beside a hot guy —Trevor Dickinson, and learned that she accidentally married him. Things get worst when it turns out that he was her fiancé's older brother.

Blurb: ​They took everything from me. My husband faked his death, leaving me with $50 million in debt. My best friend stole my designs and my daughter, who now calls her "Mommy." They left me broken, scarred, and left for dead. ​But they made one mistake. ​When I wake up the day before my life was destroyed, I'm not the naive woman they remember. I have every detail of their betrayal, and this time, I’m not running from the storm. I am the storm. ​With the help of the man I should have never let go, I will turn their perfect plan into a nightmare. They think they’re building an empire. I'm going to burn it to the ground. Some debts can’t be paid in cash, only in ruin.

This is wrong,” he stated the obvious. Eyes locked with mine like a metal to a piece of magnet. “Yet feels so right,” my response came out curt and sharp. That’s how much the tension has me caged. He came in contact with me, his breaths erratic and mine weren’t any different at the feel of his touch. Something has shifted and he it was no longer what it used to be between us. No psychic is needed to spell that out. But how? He’s Noel, the guy I’ve sworn to spend the rest of my life tormenting. And I’m Cheryl, the girl he’s promised to never let know peace.

Clarkson Roberts is America's youngest shipping billionaire tycoon, ruling his empire with ruthless efficiency. The world views him as immovable, unstoppable—yet behind the button-down collars and billion-dollar deals lies a man tangled in secrets. Jonah Jones is a brilliant marine architect with intransigent principles and a wall of debt. Assigned to revamp Clarkson's private yacht fleet, Jonah sees trouble ahead with his impossible new boss—but not lust. What begins as a sparring over ship designs and price tags quickly ignites into a dangerous passion. But when corporate scandals, shareholder intimidation, and past treachery are thrown into the mix, Clarkson and Jonah must decide: can their love be strong enough to weather a storm that could consume them both?

Thirty years ago, a progressive rock band called The Yellow Kings began recording what would become their first and final album. Titled “The Final Reconciliation,” the album was expected to usher in a new renaissance of heavy metal, but it was shelved following a tragic concert that left all but one dead. The sole survivor of that horrific incident was the band’s lead guitarist, Aidan Cross, who’s kept silent about the circumstances leading up to that ill-fated performance—until now. For the first time since the tragedy, Aidan has granted an exclusive interview to finally put rumors to rest and address a question that has haunted the music industry for decades: What happened to The Yellow Kings? The answer will terrify you. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing