Neighbor

At twenty-eight, Matilda Anthony is tired of rejection and barely holding her struggling family together when her mother arranges her marriage to their wealthy neighbor, Maxine Walter. Handsome, influential, and a CEO, Maxine seems like salvation. He transforms her family’s life, marries her, and for a moment, Matilda believes love has finally chosen her. But after the wedding, everything changes. Maxine grows distant—always busy, emotionally unavailable, and he no longer touches her. Her complaints are met with cold indifference. The loneliness builds quietly until the night of her friend’s wedding, when she walks into the suite meant for her and finds Maxine with his assistant, Tony Abraham. Shattered, she screams, “do I really deserve this??, why did you use meeee” Without remorse, he replies, “go and ask your mother if you deserved this, I signed a contract with your mother in exchange for money so don't blame me” He stops, then continues, “I told you, you can do whatever you want, go out there go get yourself a man to burst that ancient hole you call virginity, I won't leave this moment just to please you" Ignored and humiliated, Matilda runs—only to find Alpha Rue, the man she once dismissed, watching. He laughs, then offers her a deal that could change everything. Now betrayed by both husband and mother, Matilda must decide: remain in the lavender marriage or accept Alpha Rue deal want to know more?? read me

Lewis Gordon says he likes older women. Seeing that he's young, energetic, and good in bed, I agree to be his girlfriend. But when he runs into me with his friends while I'm dressed in business attire, he is stunned and doesn't know how to react. Then, he quickly introduces me. "She's just a neighbor like an auntie." What? Middle-aged? I immediately break up with him. He sends a clumsy explanation, "When you dress like a middle-aged woman, it's really embarrassing for me." I block him and don't bother replying. Five years later, I bring my son along to celebrate my husband's godfather's birthday. Lewis shows up, holding hands with his girlfriend. When he hears my son call Johann Tucker "Grandpa Johann," he pulls a long face. He blurts, "This is my son, right? He should be calling him great-grandfather." I shoot him a look of pure disgust. "He's not your son." Lewis points at my son's face and sneers, "Look at his eyes and his face. He looks exactly like me. How can you still insist he's not my son?" All I can think of is my extremely jealous husband. If he hears Lewis claiming that he's my son's father, will he go crazy and kill him?

My husband, Commander Jonathan Shelby, was leaving for the military. During his farewell dinner, our neighbor, Mrs. Murphy spoke with glee, as if she was gloating at somebody else’s misfortune. “You’re truly a magnanimous woman. Commander Shelby gave his military spouse quota to Anna instead of you, and you’re still sending him off!” I found her statement ridiculous. “Impossible. My husband hates pulling strings. In the past, he also had a quota on hand. Instead of giving it to me, he gave it to an educated young man so that he could return to his city.” Mrs. Murphy only grew more animated. “I saw the approval report with my own eyes. Under the column of Commander Shelby’s family member, the name ‘Anna Stewart’ was written on it. “Commander Shelby has been supporting two households for a long time. Weren’t you aware of it?” I felt as if a bolt of lightning had struck me. I turned to look at my parents and Jonathan. Guilt was written all over their faces. My parents took my hand. “Anna is a widow. Being a widow alone has already spoiled her reputation. If she remains in the village, they’d judge her for the rest of her life. “Nancy, you’re Jonathan’s legal wife. You need to help her out.” At that moment, my heart ached as if someone had sliced it piece by piece. Fine. I would be as magnanimous as they wanted me to be. I would personally give Jonathan to his widowed sister-in-law.

On the day of my son's one-month celebration, my notoriously stingy sister-in-law surprised me with a branded baby bottle. But instead of accepting it, I turned away and gave it to the neighbor's cruel son who had XYY syndrome. In my previous life, I had accepted that bottle with genuine gratitude, using it day and night to feed my son. I never imagined that a month later, in the dead of night, my son would suddenly suffer a heart attack and die in my arms. Strangely enough, the very next day after my son passed, my sister-in-law's sickly child—who had been confined to the neonatal intensive care unit since birth—was miraculously discharged in perfect health. Losing my son shattered me completely. I spent my days drowning in tears. My husband called me a cursed woman, claimed I brought nothing but disaster, and demanded a divorce. Not only that, but he insisted I leave with nothing. When I refused, he and my sister-in-law joined forces and accidentally beat me to death. It wasn't until after I died that I learned the truth. The woman I had thought was my husband's younger sister wasn't his blood relative at all. She had been adopted by his mother years ago to be raised as his future wife. Together, they had plotted to destroy me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day my sister-in-law handed me that baby bottle.

I was a broke, jobless, and unhappy woman until I met my new mysterious neighbor whom I mistook for a thief on the first day. There was something strange about him, a mystery I couldn't place my fingers on. I couldn't care less about who he was. He was the most annoying man I had ever met anyway. However, seeing him on my night out with my best friend and his promptness to help me caught my attention. He was more than just the new man in Woodstock. He was a man I'd fall in love with in a heartbeat. Gosh! I had just left a tumbling relationship. A man was the last thing I needed in my life, but a man like Lucas wasn't just a regular man. Then, Lucas offered me a job I couldn't deny. He offered me a job as the in-house chef. I found out Lucas' mysteriousness was because he was a popular billionaire in Boston. He didn't only have a big billionaire family, he had a scandal waiting for him up at Boston. He had a woman, Kimberly, who was carrying his child. This revelation was going to crumble my world. However, Lucas wouldn't give up without a fight. His family stood against our union while Lucas' arm surrounded me even at the expense of losing his billionaire title. We stood together as we fought the forces willing to pull us apart.

Part One:When Jamie Dalton moved into the house her grandparents left her she was just looking to reconnect with her past and settle in familiar surroundings. Digging through the attic for treasures, she found a nearly life-sized statue of a wolf and a very old, very strange book, Legends of the Werewolf. She was shocked when her new neighbor, Mike Volka, introduced himself and the eyes watching her looked just like the wolf in the book. Using the hypnotic power of the shifter, he draws her into his web and they have sex so hot it nearly burns down the house.Part TwoShifter Lia Popescue is desperate to find the book, Legends of the Werewolf, her only clue as to what happened to her pack. Her attempts to recover it bring her into contact with Riley Morgan, a contact that explodes with sexual chemistry. When she loses her heart to the sexy detective, she wonders how he will handle knowing the truth about her.USA Today best-selling and award-winning author Desiree Holt writes everything from romantic suspense and paranormal to erotic. and has been referred to by USA Today as the Nora Roberts of erotic romance, and is a winner of the EPIC E-Book Award, the Holt Medallion and a Romantic Times Reviewers Choice nominee. She has been featured on CBS Sunday Morning and in The Village Voice, The Daily Beast, USA Today, The (London) Daily Mail, The New Delhi Times and numerous other national and international publications.Wolf Tales is created by Desiree Holt, an EGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

The moment I was born, my mother implanted a chip in my brain and began shaping me into her idea of a perfect daughter. She blocked my sense of hunger so I would only have simple meals daily to maintain the "ideal" figure. She erased my ability to feel pain so she could inject me with endless chemicals to keep my skin smooth and flawless. She tampered with my senses, deleting every trace of negative emotion from my mind, all so I could remain eternally innocent. I couldn't tell right from wrong. I didn't know sadness or anger. I only knew how to smile. When the neighbor's dog died, I smiled and was scolded harshly for being heartless. When my classmates bullied me, I smiled and became the class freak. When my grandfather passed away, I smiled again, and my relatives cursed me for being soulless. Eventually, my father couldn't take it anymore. He left us. Mom, however, didn't seem to care. "They don't understand," she told me. "Everything I've done is for your own good. One day, you'll thank me." … On my 18th birthday, she planned a grand live broadcast, ready to show the world her perfect creation. She never knew that the day before her grand broadcast, I had already lost myself completely. By then, I was no longer human. I had become a machine.

One week after moving into my new home, my neighbor, Penny Halpern, suddenly knocks on my door and claims that my son, Benedict Geller, has been spying on her daughter, Monica Ritter, when the latter is bathing. "I saw everything with my own eyes! Every day, he'd cling to the windowsill and spy on me when I'm bathing! He even took pictures of me with a camera! "I'm so scared! Who knows what he's doing with those pictures? That boy really is disgusting!" Penny and Monica threaten me to call the police on Benedict if I don't pay them soon. Feeling rather puzzled, I just kick them out of my apartment. Unexpectedly, Penny summons all the neighbors in the residential area over to my place the next day. They all gather outside my door and begin insulting us at the top of their lungs. "Hey, pervert! Get out here and apologize to the victim!" "Take that perverted son of yours and leave this place! We want peace to be returned to our neighborhood!" When I tune the neighbors out, they begin smashing everything they can see at my front door. So, I can only call the police. When the police arrive, I bring Benedict out of the apartment before taking his sunglasses off. "Officer, I'd like to ask just how can my son spy on others, in this case?"

As the end of the year approaches, my wife, Sylvia Small, who is five months into her pregnancy, accidentally falls into a lake. Our neighbor who is a police officer, Raven Weber, jumps in and rescues her. Unfortunately, she slips into a coma after her heroic feat. As I rush over, I see that a crowd has gathered at the scene. Sylvia is drenched from head to toe, wrapped up tightly in a blanket. Water droplets keep dripping from the tips of her hair. "Are you alright, Sylvia?" I ask, drawing near. The moment Sylvia sees me, she moves toward me and burrows herself into my arms. She clings to me like she is clinging for dear life. "You're finally here, Zach!" she exclaims emotionally. I frown and push her away. "Just say what you have to say. This suit is expensive. Don't dirty it," I said indifferently. My words make Sylvia's eyes go wide with disbelief and shock. But that only lasts for a second before an anxious look replaces it. She holds my arms firmly and says in a choked voice, "Officer Weber is in a coma because of me. Please transfer a sum of money to me so that I can thank her for saving my life." I glance at Sylvia impatiently and reply, "What's that got to do with me? Why should I transfer you my money so that you can give it to her?"

In my previous life, my husband had suddenly died of a brain hemorrhage, leaving behind a massive mountain of debt. For the sake of my son, who was still in high school, I sold the house my parents had left me, gritted my teeth, and worked three jobs to pay off the debt. Overworked and exhausted, my health deteriorated, and I eventually collapsed in the hospital. From my bed, I could hear my son, now a graduate from a prestigious university, smiling as he spoke on the phone. "Hello? Dad, it's me. Yeah, she's about to die. I bought insurance for her, so we should get close to one million. You and Aunt Rena should come back home right away." The "Aunt Rena" he spoke of was none other than my husband's childhood friend and neighbor who had known him for years. It turned out that the debts were all part of a massive money-laundering scheme between my husband and his childhood sweetheart. They had fabricated false accounts to hide their crime, and he had faked his death to escape the law. My son, eager to become the heir to wealth, had stood by and watched me work myself to death. When I next opened my eyes, I was back in the moment of my husband's feigned brain hemorrhage, the day it had all begun.