Oh No The Aunts Are Here

Shantal Harver dies with one painful truth in her heart: she loved the wrong man. Ullysis Ray Ford, the cold ruler of a billion-dollar empire, does not care if she lives. Shantal’s life ends in a car accident… and her story should end there. But it does not. Shantal wakes up one year earlier. She remembers everything, every lonely night, every cold look, and the moment she died. This time, she does not beg. She signs the divorce papers first, gives up the five percent company shares that could have protected her forever, and walks away like she was never his. But Ullysis does not let her go easily. The divorce is delayed. The empire shifts. People begin watching Shantal like she is a key they need to control. And Shantal starts to see the truth: her first death may have been no accident. Now Shantal has one chance to change her fate. One chance to uncover who wanted her gone. And one chance to make sure she never dies for love again.

I need to drive to and from work due to a change in my job scope. However, my father-in-law hoards my car and refuses to return it. My husband stands up for him. "How can you be so materialistic? So what if you have to take an electric scooter to work?" So, I sell the car. My husband points at me and snaps, "What right do you have to sell Dad's car?" I look at him calmly. "I've sold the one you drive too."

An elf's life is eternal. He is the most lonely person on the planet. He also understands how to love and defend the ones he cares about, but the goblins must helplessly watch the people he cares about endure life and death directly in front of his eyes. When there is love, humans are frequently greedy and selfish. She, he, and even that kid are his brides, who can help him escape the eternity of fate. Finally, they could only see him one more time before leaving. "Oh brides of the goblin, pardon the lone man who endures the world's penalty, and let him be set free in this painful existence."

They say Don Julian Marconi would burn the world for one tear of mine. Five years ago, at the Met Gala, he spent millions to hang emeralds around my neck and swore I was his Madonna. Five years later, beneath the velvet boxes of our anniversary, I found a lace strap soaked in sin—and a fresh, crimson smear on his collar that told me exactly whose bed he’d left. I smiled. I asked him to sign a blank sheet of paper. And that meant he was agreeing to whatever I wanted. He called it love. I called it the death warrant for his empire. In fifteen days, I finalized our divorce papers. I boarded the Stella d’Oro as Serena Cole and burned Celeste Marconi to ash on the deck. Then I vanished with his fortune, his power and the one secret that would destroy him. I was the saint he worshipped. Now I am the ghost who haunts him. No groveling. No forgiveness. No second chance. Just ashes.

On the day of her wedding, she ended up in the hands of a man she had no idea who could be. Instead of being welcomed, she was despised by her parents and replaced by her twin sister, who took her place. Defeated and pregnant by a man she couldn’t remember — a man she wanted only to hate and forget, even without knowing who he was — all she had left was the silent promise to protect the children she carried and run away to survive. But the destiny she tried so hard to escape had never stopped watching her. Because inside her grew three lives marked by the moon and by blood — the children of the Supreme Alpha, the most feared and powerful among all wolves, the very one who should have claimed her as his mate. Among hidden kingdoms, broken pacts, and memories buried by time, she will discover that the love that destroyed her may also be the one to bring her back to life.

Angela Bailey spent six years believing her marriage was built on love, only to discover her devoted husband was nothing more than a polished illusion. When she filed for divorce and asked her daughter to leave with her, the little girl clung to another woman’s hand and called her “Mom.” Donald Turner, cold and entitled, told her, “As long as you apologize to Nina, you can still live your high-society life.” Angela scoffed. “You might not even stay in high society yourself.” She walked out of the Turner household with nothing, determined to rebuild her life from the ground up. With her own talent and grit, she joined a new company and went head-to-head with her ex. Just when Donald realized his mistake and wanted her back, another man stepped into Angela’s life—someone who protected her openly, supported her quietly, and cherished her without hesitation. Donald regretted everything and wanted her back. He appeared with their daughter, eyes red as he pleaded, “I’ll give you the entire Turner family. Please love me and our daughter again.” The man beside Angela laughed. “The Turner family? That means nothing. Angela doesn’t need it. And as for a daughter…” He looked at Angela, and together they said, “We already have one.”

A year after my divorce, my ex-husband, Harvey Fisher, pings me in a group chat. "This cold war has gone on for long enough. Come home—let's remarry." I reply, "Have you lost your mind?" Everyone in the group chat tries to convince me to take Harvey back. Meanwhile, he asks, "What have you been doing without me in your life?" I turn to look at my current husband, who's putting our child to sleep. I reply, "Recovering after having a child." The group chat members are initially excited, but they instantly fall silent at my words. Harvey angrily calls me countless times, but I ignore him. His mind is not the only thing he's lost—he's also lost the young woman who once loved him more than life itself.

When desire knows no boundaries, every moment counts. Untamed Desire brings you a collection of provocative short stories exploring forbidden touches, secret cravings, and unexpected connections. From strangers trapped in a storm to tangled love triangles and power plays, these tales explore lust and longing in all their raw, intoxicating forms. Each chapter is a standalone story—perfect for quick, sultry reads that ignite your imagination and leave you wanting more.

During the holidays, I've worked my ass off just to whip up a feast filled with my wife, Willow Steele's favorite dishes. But soon, my mother-in-law pulls out a paternity test report and announces with a smile that the birth father of my daughter, Naomi Johnson, is actually Willow's childhood sweetheart, Luther Lloyd. Everyone bursts into laughter before saying teasingly that "no wonder Naomi looks so much like Luther". Willow's father even pats Luther on the shoulder while looking at him as though the latter were a part of the family. What stings my heart the most is that Willow is laughing so hard that she can barely stand up straight. So, that leaves her clinging to Luther while she taps Naomi on the forehead with a finger. "Go on, call Mr. Lloyd 'daddy.' He's your real dad, after all." Naomi, who has always kept me at an arm's length, rushes into Luther's arms without hesitation and starts calling him "daddy" sweetly. I fall silent for a moment as I watch everything unfold. Then, I draw to my feet and look at Willow. "Let's get a divorce." But Willow just chuckles icily in return. "Must you go that far? My mom was just joking around." When I'm about to leave, Willow turns to tell the others, "He's just being ridiculous. Once I give him the cold shoulder for a few days, he'll still beg me to return to his side pathetically." But what Willow doesn't know is that I've chosen to endure everything she's hurled at me out of love in the past. Now, I want nothing more than to leave her permanently.

My daughter, Elise Dolton, got sick, so I rushed over to take care of her. The moment I stepped inside, a rotten stench hit me right in the face, so I offered to help clean the place up. Her roommates' faces dropped right away. "What smell, Mrs. Dolton? The place is fine." "If you think it's such a dump, then have Elise move out. Don't come in here acting like you're better than all of us. We're not putting up with that!" Even Elise shoved me impatiently. "If you’re here to visit, then just act like it. Stop making a scene and embarrassing me, okay?” They were all college roommates, splitting rent on a run-down unit in an old complex. When I went in, I noticed them gathered around a pot of spicy stew. The room was thick with steam and smoke, but it still couldn't cover that awful stench. Strangely, none of them seemed to notice it. Had something gone wrong with my sense of smell? That night, the smell was so overwhelming that I couldn't fall asleep. In the end, I realized the odor was coming from Elise herself. I hurried her into the bathroom and scrubbed her down over and over, but the smell didn't fade at all. It stayed just as strong. With no other option, I called a cleaner, planning to disinfect the entire place inside and out. But Elise's roommates felt offended and started arguing with me. In the chaos, someone shoved me. My temple slammed into the sharp corner of the coffee table, and I died on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment I first walked through the door. The stench rushed at me all over again...