Mistress

Roxanne Harrington, a College junior with one goal in mind, to slut out her professor. She has always had everything she ever wanted as the daughter to the most powerful family in all of Maine and beyond. Unfortunately for Roxanne, Professor Vaughn Walker is a sucker for love. Despite his devilishly handsome face and the body sculpted by the gods, he believes his body should be shared with someone he loves. Will this stop Roxanne who does not believe in love? Or Will Professor Vaughn cave into his immoral feelings for his student?

Warning. This book will contain scenes of Violence , Betrayal, and intimate scenes between a woman with more than one male at a time. With that said, Welcome to the Black Alder Series. This book will be written in three parts surrounding the lives of Elena, Kayla, and Arabella. Three women victims by their circumstances. Each of them has a destiny to face and they are all entwined with eachother in one way or another. Each possess a special ability. With that ability, they will seek to change their fates and become strong leaders for their families. Enemies lurk around every corner, wanting to claim the women for their very own, but these women are not going down without a fight. Read on to see how this all unfolds. Be prepared, it's a tunnel of emotions your about to go through. See you on the other side. Part one, Luna Rising, will center around Elena. Part two, Broken Chains, will center around Kayla. Part three, Midnight Sky, will center around Arabella.

You’re not supposed to want straight men. Carson Bitters wants nothing more than to feel his secretary inside him. He dreams of it every day. You’re not supposed to fall in love with them. They won’t love you back. But Carson can’t stop longing for Asher Hall; the man his homophobic father handpicked for him. A living, breathing, giant NO. And yet, every time Asher speaks, every glance, every careless brush of his hand, Carson finds himself wanting more. Needing more. And what starts as longing could destroy everything, or make it unforgettable.

When Alpha heir, Eddie Beaumont finally feels the pull of the one fated to love him forever, he expects a woman. A luna to stand beside him, strengthen the pack,, like his mother did for his father. But fate laughs. The moon goddess makes her first mistake. Because the scent that calls to him, the person that makes his soul sing, is a man. Noah Harrow. A brooding man who hates the world and seems to hate Eddie even more. Noah wants nothing to do with Eddie, and this should make him happy, after all, there has never been a man with another man for a mate. But Noah is all he can think about, his mind is consumed with the one man who wants nothing to do with him. With every rejection Noah sends his way, Eddie wants to own him even more. But somethings are better off leaving them alone, which Eddie will soon enough, find out.

"Imagine how much nicer it would be if you were in these handcuffs, squirming, pleading, yet needing, beneath me." His words caused a stir in my pants and a whirlwind in my life. They provoked images in my mind I never would have thought of on my own. Neither would have imagined that I would touch myself to his words. The reasons are simple, One, he is in cuffs because I am a detective and he is a criminal. Two, I have a girlfriend, I am straight. Nothing can ever happen between us. Elijah Stone is a star detective, model in all his ways, and a model girlfriend that he isn't sexually attracted to. Until criminal Jesse Harding walks into his life, ruining everything and needing Elijah's protection. Now Elijah has to fight bad guys, and his traitorous body that only wants to drown in Jesse's chaos.

As my due date approaches, my husband's precious mistress falls into the water at a banquet. After being rescued, she immediately accuses me of pushing her. To "avenge" her, he throws me into a modified stainless steel water tank. I beg him, pleading for the sake of our unborn children. But he only sneers. "Don't try to use the babies to guilt me! You've still got a week before you're due. I know exactly how vicious you are—any child of yours would be just as rotten. Stay in there and reflect on your behavior. I'll let you out when you finally admit you're wrong!" Five days later, my husband returns home from a night out with his mistress, calling for me to come downstairs and serve them, as always. He doesn't know that my babies and I have already rotted beyond recognition.

Lily was the little sister of my fiancé’s best friend. She was a mistress to a mafia Don—a sugar daddy—until his wife found out, and the clip of Lily getting beaten up ended up on the local news. Yet, somehow, everyone thought the woman getting dragged on TV was me. People at work who never liked me jumped at the chance to pile on. One of them even pointed right at my face and called me shameless. I tried to explain, “My fiancé is Sam Johnson, the CEO of Johnson Group. He’s handsome and ranked third on the Forbes list. Why would I become a mistress to a sugar daddy?” However, no one believed me. If anything, they looked at me like I was even more pathetic. One coworker sneered and pointed to the TV. “You’re not just morally bankrupt; you’re a liar. The CEO’s fiancée? That’s not you.” The TV was playing a breaking news segment titled: First Appearance of Johnson Group CEO’s Fiancée. And there Sam was, arm in arm with Lily, officially announcing their relationship.

I had been married to Rick Clinton for five years, and we had tried every possible way to have a child, but nothing worked. Later, Rick’s mistress, his secretary, became pregnant. Rick proposed a divorce, but we couldn’t agree on the division of assets. The next day, I was murdered by my husband and his mistress. Reborn a week before my death, I looked at the test results in my hand that confirmed Rick’s Azoospermia and smiled.

On the day of my divorce, my ex-mother-in-law updates her social media with a photo. It's my husband's mistress' ultrasound—she's pregnant. Their friends and family congratulate her. Meanwhile, I share a premarital medical report. It belongs to her son, Owen Wade. It also clearly indicates he has congenital necrospermia. There's no way I'll want a man who can't have kids!

At Sullivan Group's annual banquet, a female university student approaches Peter Sullivan and offers herself to him. The usually cold and distant Peter suddenly freezes because this young woman looks exactly like his deceased first love. He can't help but tease, "You're asking to be my mistress in front of my wife. Are you so sure you won't be thrown out?" The young lady lifts her chin, and her stubborn expression is identical to that of his lost love. "You two got married for business reasons and mutual benefits. Does she have any say over what you do? Peter, only you can save my mom. Will you do it or not?" She's right. I'm just a pawn in a marriage of convenience. How could I possibly influence Peter's choices? But then, I catch a glint of tenderness in his eyes that I've never seen before, and a self-deprecating smile forms on my lips. Maybe, instead of clinging on and being thrown out like trash, it's better if I give up my place willingly.