Mindset: The New Psychology Of Success

"I, Lopo Foster of the Nightfall Pack, as a result, announce that my fated mate Lupa will join our pack. I hope that everyone will treat both Lupa and Luna Freya with equal respect in the future." My husband Lopo had announced in front of our pack members on our third wedding anniversary that he had found his fated mate. I stared blankly at the two figures cuddled up in the centre of the hall as a wave of numbness washed over me, and I listened to all the pack members congratulating them wholeheartedly. Loop’s so-called Fated Mate, Lupa ,feigning innocence and vulnerability, handed me a glass of wine. But that glass of wine took my life! Yet, the Moon Goddess decided my story wasn't over. She granted me a second chance. This time, I am determined to peel back the mask of that bitch and make Lopo experience a profound regret that will be his living torment!

In a world where different creatures mingled with humans, despite struggling with the world's hardships, fighting for survival, and attempting to escape the clutches of the night creatures, humans, no matter what they did, always ended up as a tool for survival. On their quest to acquire power, freedom, and wealth, this dark power's only source of survival was through one soul; the soul of a freeborn. This soul, being an embodiment of power, could change anything and everything. Kate Warren was this soul. She was a young, spirited woman whose soul was purer than a dove and was sought by different creatures who would do anything to take everything from her. Her soul was a power treasure for the demons and a great source of energy for the witches, while her blood was the life-sustaining elixir for the night creatures. All these things they sought were the keys to unlocking power. Kate was the only survivor in her town when a massacre took place that caused the deaths of her family. Unknown to her, she was the motive behind the massacre. Her bad days changed for the worst when she got abducted by a demon. Facing the chaos surrounding her and building a strong shield around herself Kate found solace in the arms of the night whisper. The whispers of the night had a certain attraction for her. It always drew her to Clarence Roosevelt, whose name shook her very soul and core, and was also death and life to her. Having discovered that the only person who can lead her into and also away from destruction is herself, will she save herself and others from destruction, or will she be the destruction itself? “All she needed to do was listen to the Night Whispers”.

“Beg me to lick you, malysh.” There was no way in hell I’d beg him. But that was until his finger slid into my pussy, stretching me at a deliciously slow curl. “Please.” I whimpered, trembling. “Say it like you mean it, baby.” “Lick me, please,” I panted. It was hard not to with the way his finger was curling inside me, hitting my g-spot repeatedly. °•°•°• Do you crave men who dominate every room they walk into? Men who won’t hesitate to destroy anyone who dares threaten what’s theirs? Men as lethal as they are possessive, yet drop to their knees for the one woman who sets their cold hearts on fire? Meet the Kings of the Bratva—ruthless, dangerous, and utterly unstoppable. From brutal assassins to stolen brides, these stories will drag you into a world of forbidden love, raw passion, and unrelenting danger. Arranged marriages, deadly betrayals, and second chances that will shatter your soul—these men live by their own rules, and their women? They’re the ones bold enough to break them. Love isn’t soft here—it’s a war, a fire that consumes everything in its path. These men will fight, kill, and burn for the ones they claim. The Kings of the Bratva don’t just promise passion—they deliver obsession. Are you ready to meet them?

Crystal Santiago was a woman of dual identities. By day, she was a waitress, known for her kind heart and sweet smile. By night, she became Jae, a stripper renowned for her looks and skill. Wherever she went, men would flock to her, completely under her spell. Her long, black hair cascaded over her bare shoulders, framing her seductive red lips and piercing blue eyes. She had the allure of a siren, and it was all too easy for her to trap men in her gaze. But beneath the surface, she was a sweet, down-to-earth girl. Crystal's life was going smoothly until the day she met him. He was powerful, ruthless, and dangerous. He ruled the city with an iron fist, and no one dared to cross them. He approached Crystal one night after her performance, his eyes filled with greed and lust. "You're mine now," he said, his voices dripping with malice. "You belong to me”.

Late at night, when I think I'm alone, I feel his breath on the side of my face, and I know--he's watching me. Ever since I moved into this ancient mansion to take care of my sick aunt, I've been experiencing strange things. When I discover she has a boarder, a mysterious, sexy artist who lives on the third floor, I think some of that is explained. The bumps in the night. The whispers from the shadows. But once Dalton and I are properly introduced, the strange occurrences don't stop. If anything, they are amplified. When I close my eyes at night, it's his face I see. It's his hands I feel. It's his lips I taste. The more I get to know him, the more I realize I don't know him at all. Dalton's not the kind of man that buys a woman flowers and makes her feel all warm and fuzzy. No, he's the kind of man your mama would tell you to run from. Cold. Dangerous. Complex. And now that he wants me, I learn he is more than that. Possessive. Controlling. Diabolical. I should leave this place before it's too late, but I know I can't. Whatever it is that's sunk it's fangs into him, it has me, too. He has me, too. For better or worse. 'Til death... Whispers of the Devil is a dark romance which some readers may find disturbing. Proceed with caution.

After three miscarriages for Xavier Lowe, I see it—my mother-in-law has three years left, my father-in-law nine years, and my sister-in-law two years. I say nothing. After the third miscarriage, my mother-in-law blames me, calling me a curse who "kills" children. My sister-in-law sneers, saying she almost died in a car crash the year I married Xavier—as if my bad luck dragged her down. My mother-in-law snaps, "She can't even keep a child. It must be because she's cursed!" Xavier just stands there, silent. He doesn't say a single word for me. I know that, deep down, he believes that I bring bad luck. Maybe it's also because he already has someone else—his secretary, Yvette Snyder. His mother has always liked her better, and he clung to her the night I lost my third child. I don't explain because I know the truth will only destroy them faster. On my 28th birthday, I catch a glimpse of my own countdown in the mirror. On that day, I take a leave of absence. I go to the funeral home and pick out an urn—pure white, just like the wedding dress I once wore. Wearing a beautiful floral dress, I text Xavier, asking him to meet me at the lake where we first met ten years ago. I wait from daylight until nightfall as my countdown ticks to zero. I die, and he never shows up.

THE TASTE OF LOVE By Yeiron Jee Nica Joy Rodriguez - she does not want affection and care. She has a bad reputation for being wicked and cold-hearted even to his own father. "Who cares?" her motto in life. Chrismith Yuchan - his passion in life is playing guitar and singing. But he had to let it go for the sake of his family. Above all, he wants to teach a lesson to someone who thinks highly of herself. But, it all changed when he met her in person. Will Chrismith succeed in taming a girl he can compare to a wild animal? Can a song soften a heart full of anger and fear to love and be loved?

Love has many colours every colour has its own side. Join the journey of our characters to see every shade of loveIts a collection of short stories with many different shades of love

Aurelia is the laughingstock of her kingdom. The last two years she has dressed in black following two failed love spells. This year will be different this year she'll meet Zinjo the werelion

While I was nine months pregnant, the apple of my husband’s eye moved into our house. Whenever she saw me, she would make a sad face. My husband was sure that I was flaunting my pregnancy to make her angry. “Rachel is frail, and she can’t get pregnant, yet you’re walking around making her upset?! Do I seriously have to teach you a lesson?!” He ordered the bodyguards to lock me in the attic that had not been in use for a long time and told them not to give me food. I pleaded for mercy and told him that the ultrasound scan showed that the twin babies were too big. I told him that the doctor had claimed that I had to be hospitalized while I waited for my delivery. But he laughed as if he had heard the world’s greatest joke. When he spoke, his voice was as cold as ice. “You’re still three days away from your delivery date! Enough with the pitiful act! Repent while you’re in the attic! This is what you get for making Rachel upset!” The contractions hurt so much that I clenched my fists to the point that my nails broke, but no one unlocked the door to the attic. My piercing screams echoed in the attic for a long time until my whole body was soaked in blood, and one of my babies was stuck between my bloody legs. Three days later, my husband ate his breakfast that was not up to his taste and said, “Have Jane make breakfast for me, then have her apologize to Rachel with a gift. If she’s sincere enough, I’ll send her to the hospital to deliver the babies.” But no one dared go up to the attic because the blood that flowed down from it had already reached the second step of the stairs.