Moaning Softly

Ever since I started at the Brooklyn Enquirer as a journalist, I've been reporting on stories nobody cares about. But the other day, I found a story that I was sure the audience would sink their teeth into. One that was front-page worthy and would make our newspaper infamous. Except it centers around a mafia boss and his bloodthirsty brothers.  It won't be easy to get it, but I'm determined to prove my worth. And it starts with Darick Dawson. My heart fluttered as we gazed into each other's eyes. At the same time, we leaned forward, and our lips touched. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he stroked his fingers through my hair, pulling at the roots softly, earning a moan from me. He traced his finger around my lips when suddenly, I opened my eyes and noticed the red in his irises getting darker. My Bloodthirsty Mafia Man is written by Claire Wilkins, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author

"I can't do this no more. I'm leaving you, Rupert Peter Myrie," Tasha said, her heart thudding in her chest. He turned, locking his eyes with hers, but she didn't flinch. Rupert snorted softly, his footsteps slow and deliberate as he approached, each breath husky, each movement heavy until he stood just an inch away. "Tee, you must be really angry for you to be calling me by my full name." "Stick to the point," she said, turning her face from his intimidating gaze. "I want to end things with you." Her voice trembled, but she forced the words out. He closed the space between them. "You want to end things with me?" His voice dropped. "Who teaching you this 'strong woman' crap?" He wrapped his arms around her, gently rocking her and pulling her to his chest. "The only way I'll ever let you leave me... is in a body bag." ****** After escaping a toxic relationship and years of being controlled, Tasha Mackenzie finds herself under the protection of Joseph Grind, America's most feared Mafia boss. He’s cold-blooded. Untouchable. And hiding a secret darker than his empire: he's also the Alpha of the Stinging Vipers werewolf pack. As Tasha is pulled into his dangerous world, she learns the man protecting her has a fiancée he claims is just a business deal. But how can she trust a man feared by an entire country, let alone love him? Can Tasha survive the war between her heart and his secrets... or will loving a monster destroy her for good?

"Who the hell are you?!" yelled Rachel Clarke (28) when she woke up in the morning to find herself all naked with a man snoring softly beside her. "I'm your future husband, have you forgotten what happened last night?" said the man beside her with his eyes half-closed. Since that day, Rachel's life has changed 180 degrees. Suddenly she had to marry a young, self-made billionaire named Nicholas Anthony just because of a ridiculous agreement she signed when she was drunk.

My best friend and I had been abducted by the Pendragon brothers—a duo consisting of a religious CEO and a top-billed movie star. We became their secret lovers against our will. "I'm pregnant, Lilith," my best friend said, tears glistening in her eyes. "Me too, Lindsay," I replied softly, caressing my belly. "But I won't go through with it." The brothers heard us. Their control tightened. They watched us during mealtimes, while we slept, and even during our bathroom breaks. We could not endure it any longer, so we fought back. In their anger, the brothers kept mistresses who resembled us. We thought we were free until one day, they found us. They called us homewreckers and hurled insults at us. They broke into our house, scarred our faces, broke our legs, and kicked us until we miscarried. It did not matter how much we tried to explain ourselves. They removed our clothes and paraded us in the street. Finally, the Pendragons arrived. They raised their marriage certificates and declared, "Lilith and Lindsay are our wives!"

She moaned softly beneath him, her body arching, craving his touch, even as her mind screamed that this was wrong. “Please, stop. I don’t want this,” she whispered, her voice trembling with desperation. Aurora, eldest daughter of the Alpha of North Pack, was in the one place she should never be—entangled with her sworn enemy, Alpha Hunter, the ruthless Alpha of the Dark blood pack. She tried to rise, her instincts screaming for escape, but Hunter pinned her down with ease. His dark, piercing eyes locked onto hers as he growled, “Did I say you could leave?” His gaze was as dangerous as it was captivating, and his hands roamed over her body, igniting sensations she couldn’t control. Her body betrayed her, writhing under his touch. Hunter leaned closer, his lips hovering just a breath away. Aurora turned her head sharply, refusing him, her heart pounding in defiance. He caught her chin with a firm grip, forcing her to face him. “I’m warning you,” he hissed, his voice low and menacing. “Don’t you dare defy me.” His strong arms enveloped her as she struggled against him, her voice rising in desperation. “This is wrong! Stop it! We can’t do this. You’re my enemy—my pack’s enemy!” A dark chuckle escaped his lips, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered arrogantly, “Oh, my sweet little Aurora. Have you forgotten? You’re my mate.” His laughter echoed through the room, a mix of menace and triumph. Aurora’s breath hitched as his words sank in, each one more impossible than the last. What will happen when enemies turned into destined mates and rejection is not an option?

I, Alpha Vincenzo Anderson, reject you, warrior Ashley Miller, as my mate and Luna. You are banished from my Enchanted Gardens Pack!” ****** Five years ago, her Alpha mate's rejection cast Ashley into exile. She was forced to survive among rogues enduring heartache, betrayal, and endless torment. But nothing prepared her for the cruelty of the rogue King, who punished her with a slave’s brand for refusing his lecherous advances, humiliating her in public. She was withering in pain when Alpha Vincenzo attacked the rogue pack and saved her life, bringing her back home. Consumed by rage and hatred, Ashley wanted nothing to do with the mate who once abandoned her. However, fate had other plans. A mysterious illness tied to the severed bond threatened her life, and the only cure was to reconnect with the man she swore to loathe, the one whose touch still ignited her blood. Now living under Vincenzo’s roof as a maid, resisting the heat that simmered between them was impossible for Ashley. And Vincenzo, he intended on proving with every stolen breath and breathless stare that she was still his. Ashley wanted to abhor her ex. But whenever he touched her, murmured her name softly, claiming that she felt the same desire burning within him. Ashley knew the truth! She was never free of him! As secrets unraveled and old wounds surfaced, would Ashley be able to forgive Vincenzo? Or fate would give her another chance at love after countless hardships?

Please..." she gasped weakly, her hands now powerless to push him away. "Why... why are you doing this?" Vladimiros didn’t answer. He continued to drain her, savoring every drop. But then, as suddenly as it began, he pulled away. Freya let out a strangled gasp, barely able to breathe as she felt herself slipping into unconsciousness. "Why..." she whispered, barely audible, before her vision went black. Vladimiros smiled down at her, his eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction. "Wow..." he murmured softly, his tone full of admiration. "I’ve never tasted werewolf blood so good."

Diego strolled into his apartment, his heels clinking softly against the marble floor. He tossed his blonde wig on the couch, and his soft fingers propelled forward to count the dollar bills in his hands. “You're out crossdressing again?” His uncle, Roberto, a tall imposing figure with gray streaks on his hair walked into the room. “I might just have the perfect job for you,” Roberto chuckled softly and tossed a gun at Diego. “What?!” Diego's breath hitched in his throat as he swallowed the weight of the mission his uncle proposed. Cross dressing was one thing that Diego did with ease. There was no way he could do what his uncle requested; assassinating the infamous mafia lord of the Rocco empire. He stood in front of a mirror, holding the gun that Roberto had handed to him. There was no way that this soft and delicate hand could pull a trigger. Diego didn't expect that the mafia lord he was set up against was going to be a man who'll make his heart flutter. He tried to resist, bracing himself to complete his mission. But things only got heated when he found himself “entangled in the rival's hold.”