On Friday Afternoon

I return home from my business trip that night. The pharmacy I always go to calls to say that my membership card was used that afternoon, but the payment failed, and the account needs to be topped up. I look over at my wife, Catherine Francis, who's focused on making dinner. I ask her what she bought. She smiles and pulls out a box of supplements. "I've been staying up late working these past few days. My heart's been acting up a little, so I bought some heart supplements." Seeing my expression go flat, she lets out a helpless sigh and takes a card out of her bag. "I know you're particular about money. Since I accidentally used your membership card, I'll pay you back ten times. Okay?" However, I don't take the card like I used to. I just look at her calmly and say, "Let's get a divorce."

An erotic thriller that is part Fifty Shades of Grey and part Sweet Little Lies, with a character driven exploration of pleasure, sensuality, infinite eroticism and political repercussions.Thirty-four year old Emma Hamilton’s life is comfortable and predictable, right up to the moment she reluctantly enters “The Ranch”, an exclusive club where the wives of the ultra-rich and powerful surrender all inhibitions to meet every tantalizing desire. Far outside her element, Emma is initially swept away by the secret society that promises community, infinite eroticism and the fulfillment of every sexual desire limited only by the imagination. However, she soon discovers that her afternoon of pleasure comes at a shockingly high price. The more she learns about the “members only” club, the more she realizes the dangers lurking just behind the faade of sexual indulgence. With her family, life and the career of one of the most promising politicians in the country on the line, Emma goes up against a cadre of powerful players hell bent on silencing her before she destroys them all.The Fantasy Maker is created by Emily Kendricks, an EGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

Amelia Montgomery is one of Rosewood High's cheerleaders along with her best friend Stella Hayes. Her and Stella have been friends ever since kindergarten when Amelia fell off the monkey bars and Stella helped her up afterwards. Stella has a brother named Easton Hayes and he has always teased Amelia since she was seven. They both agreed that they thought he was a heartless prick who treats girls like rubbish. One Friday night Amelia decided to go to a party. At the party Amelia ends up slipping and falling into her worst enemies lap, but what makes the situation worse is the fact that some drunk dude accidentally stumbles into her causing her to slide forward and lock lips with none other than Easton Hayes. Oh how Amelia's life couldn't be anymore ruined. ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• I lean in so that our noses are touching which causes us to close our eyes as our breaths become more harsher. "I can't stand being friends with you. Everytime I see you all I want to do is push you against a wall and kiss you" he whispers out which makes me smile a little "So, what are you going to do about it?" I ask him teasingly with a breathless voice "This" he says before he connects our lips which makes me reach up and place my hands on his cheeks.

In the seventh year of marrying Don Sebastian Quinn, I finally stopped loving him. After finishing the family business in the afternoon, I found an excuse to go out for coffee; He wanted to take me to attend the family core meeting, but I politely declined by saying I had to fly to Paris to watch a show; When he finally refused his social engagement and tried to get intimate with me, I lied about feeling unwell and slept in a separate room. Even when his lover was wearing my silk nightgown and commanding the housekeepers in the living room, I calmly complimented her good figure. My indifference finally hurt this man. He forcefully grabbed my chin in the middle of the night, his eyes red. "Why aren't you mad seeing another woman sleeping in my bed? Nicola Scott, I'm your husband. Don't you care at all?" I looked at his out-of-control state and only smiled faintly, thinking, 'Sebastian, you've probably forgotten that I loved you the most during the years you punished me by making me kneel and reflect on my actions.'

My African American Mom married a rich Japanese man. As I moved the skeleton of my new bed next to the window, I felt a gaze focused on me. Outside my window, was the house next door. The house shape was similar to ours, so it also had a window facing mine at the same level. Standing there on the other side was a skinny Japanese boy. As soon as I laid eyes on him, he stiffened, then shyly smiled and waved. His hair was all over the place, seeing him in his tanktop I thought to myself that he must've just rolled out of bed. But wasn't it the afternoon already? The boy says something but of course I can't hear him with my window closed so I slide it open. "Eto....hi." He tried in English. If someone were to tell me later I'd come to care about him deeply, I'd find that hard to believe. For as long as I could remember I've always felt empty. And that emptiness, I hid on instinct.

On my birthday, the dining table was loaded with all my favorites. My mom had been cooking and baking the entire afternoon, insisting everything be perfect for when Mike got home from work so we could celebrate together. But then, he called and said his first love had been drugged at a bar, and he had to go help her. I stopped him and begged him not to go. Mike snapped at me. "Jesus, Em, don’t pull this jealous wife crap. She’s alone, defenseless, and unconscious—I can't let some random dude take advantage of her!" My mother heard those words and was so enraged that she had a heart attack. She died on the spot. Just like that, my mom died on my birthday. I called Mike, asking him to attend my mom's funeral. But before he could reply, I saw Cathy Miller's latest Instagram post, captioned: [Mikey… after all these years, it was always you.] Mike had liked it. My thumb moved before my brain caught up, typing out the only words that mattered: [A homewrecker and a lying bastard. Hope you rot together.]

Late one night, I was scrolling through social media and stumbled upon a trending post. "Does your husband ever say you're obsessed with your brother?" One comment sat at the top with thousands of likes. The profile picture showed a cartoon girl covering her mouth, laughing. "Oh, I can answer this one! My husband used to say that too, but here's the thing: he's actually the son I had when I was 19!" Every word oozed with smug satisfaction. Some commenters tore into her, calling her manipulative and her husband a total sucker. She only got bolder. She posted a screenshot of a bank transfer with the details blurred out, right next to a photo of limited-edition sneakers. "All my son had to say was he liked them, and my husband caved! Then he gave him extra cash for a fancy dinner!” "A guy like this? If I don't milk him, who will?" I stared at the sneakers and the transfer amount. They matched exactly what I had bought for my "brother-in-law" that afternoon and the money I had just sent him. Down to the last cent. Ice shot through my veins. That sucker she was bragging about? That was me.

“You murderer!” No A resounding slap followed those words from Katrina’s Mother-in-law. The entire extended family gasped in shock but no one made a move to help. Not even Katrina’s husband, Damon Winchester. He just stood there, watching lazily, like he always did while his mother berated her for every little thing. But this wasn’t little, no. This was more than the fine china dishes that were one of the family’s heirlooms which Katrina broke last thanksgiving and earned her harsh insults from her mother-in-law. This was nothing like the family dinner she made last Christmas that caused half the kitchen to catch fire, needing a renovation. This couldn't be compared to that afternoon in summer, when she knocked over an antique vase while dusting, freezing as it cracked clean down the middle and her mother-in-law murmured that Katrina’s touch spoiled anything of value. No. This was the death of the only woman who loved someone as unlovable as Katrina. The woman who raised her. The woman who constantly fought for Katrina’s place in the Winchester Family even when she didn’t belong. Alana Winchester, Damon’s grandmother. Like every other thing, it was all her fault. Everything Katrina touched turned to ashes.

My child-free husband went back to his hometown for a funeral, and after he returned, he suddenly wanted me to have a baby. He was one of the best obgyns in the state, so he handled my IVF procedure himself. After more than 160 hormone shots, we finally heard the baby’s rhythmic heartbeats for the first time, which made my usually calm husband tear up. Soon, he tightened every part of my routine, from a strict diet to my schedule, and once my belly started showing, he barely let me get out of bed. I thought he was just being overly protective. But then, right by my ear, I heard a nasty little boy’s voice. [Which player starts their mission inside the womb? And she’s not even my mom!] [Just four more months. My dad will make sure she dies on the operating table so he can keep only his son.] [After that, he’ll bring my real mom back, and my mission will be complete!] I canceled my afternoon checkup immediately as soon as I heard this. Did the system forget to tell him that he wasn’t the only player in this world?

George Hemsworth and Shrey Khatri were a happily married couple blessed with five years old twins Luke and Kendall, One blissful afternoon, they decided to go for a car ride when suddenly George's car abruptly halted its progress, slinging Luke, who was comfortably sitting on his momma's lap, and Shrey against the center console with bone-jarring force, hit her head she lost her consciousness but was able to save his son. On the other hand, Kendall, who was sitting back seat, was struck by the driver's seat, which jolted her forward and backward When George and Shrey gained consciousness, they anxiously searched for their daughter everywhere but couldn't find out. Due to her daughter's loss, Shrey gets mentally disturbed and loses her memory As a result of amnesia, she considers herself as eighteen-years-old, Louis lambert's girlfriend who used to work in George's one of the companies but was kicked out for doing some fraudulent scheme in the company, to find out how George is going to make his former secretary and beloved wife remember him and will they be able to find their daughter and protect her from the kidnaper and perpetrator of the accident for these; let's dig into George Hemsworth's romantic and ecstatic world, who is "bound of remembrance" of his wife.