Onyx Storm Word Count Mga Nobela at Kwento

***Warning: Mature Audience Only*** No Safe Word is a sinful collection of short stories where control is the ultimate game, and surrender is inevitable. From ruthless CEOs to dangerous strangers and forbidden rivals, every short stories teases the edge of pleasure. Each story pulses with obsession, domination and a passion that burns through every rule… just when you think you’ve had enough, it pulls you deeper into a world where there is no safe word. Dare to play? There’s no turning back once you say yes.

“I thought you wanted to sleep, my Queen,” Lorcan whispered. “I changed my mind,” Niamh kissed Lorcan again, deeply, hungrily. “Besides, you owe me a wedding night.” “I stand reminded,” Lorcan bowed his head. Looking up, he grasped Niamh around the waist and turned to lay her beneath him, kissing her passionately. *** Niamh had dutifully fulfilled her obligation to marry King Lorcan of the Elven Realms, only to watch her new husband ride off to battle the very next day. But he was lost in battle, and she was left to face her new role as Queen among haters, admirers, and potential suitors… and a traitor. Despite the challenges she formed new alliances, treaties, and friends, and, once the King was found, they built an unshakable love while facing turmoil. Once free to leave, what choice will she make? Will the love they formed be strong enough to endure more than time? Rising Storm in the Elven Realms is created by Heather Dilts-Baiano, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

"You're not having me!" I snapped at his face. "Oh, my little sinner." He licked the bottom of his lips with a sinister smirk on his face. "You're already tied to my bed."

Isis Lancaster doesn’t take no for an answer. A Spanish Count born into nobility and the ruthless heir to a powerful mafia. He was raised to believe that those without royal blood are beneath him, and that control comes from lies, deception, and a perfect mask. He mastered the art of pretending… until she arrived. Suddenly, the rules no longer applied. The walls around his heart began to crumble. His carefully constructed world, one built on power, fear, and loyalty, turned upside down, and the man who always got what he wanted found himself powerless before the one woman who could break him completely.

Maddie is a very powerful witch and Raven is an equally strong magician and that is certainly not desirable in the eyes of a very arrogant opponent. All sorts of things are pulled out of the magic closet to ensure that their powers are undermined. Can Maddie handle all this magic that suddenly comes her way? Quite a lot is required of her. She sometimes wishes she didn't have those magical powers. Plus, Raven has some more magical secrets that he hasn't shared with her yet. Will there eventually be balance in the magic and in their lives? Or do they part ways there?

On the day of the United Nations meeting, I noticed a new electronic watch on my wife’s wrist. She said it was a gift from her first love to monitor her health. It was a veiled jab, which implied I was not as thoughtful or caring as an outsider. Something felt off, so during her lunch break I secretly checked, and found a bugging device. I reported it immediately, using my official title to cover her wrongdoing. Her first love, however, was now wanted by the authorities. While fleeing, he tragically died in a car accident. My wife said coldly that it served him right, yet treated me with even more care and attention. However, she deliberately leaked my translation files at work, which resulted in me being accused of espionage and taken in for investigation. “Miles, that bug was clearly planted by you. You were jealous of Ash and wanted him dead!” “I truly regret giving up Ash to marry someone as malicious as you. You should go to hell and atone for him!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back there once again on the day her first love gave her that watch. I did not interfere this time. I simply signed my name on the divorce papers.

I was pregnant. On my way to deliver documents to Tristan Goldberg, a flash flood struck. Desperate, I dialed his number, praying he’d answer. After a few rings, the call connected. But instead of Tristan, a woman’s voice answered. "Tristan, whose number is this? Do you want to answer it?" There was a brief pause, and then Tristan’s voice, cold and indifferent, cut through. "It’s just my maid. Ignore it. Hang up." And just like that, the call disconnected. Staring at the torrent rising around me, my pulse quickened. I texted him, begging for him to send a rescue team. Minutes passed as the waters climbed to my waist, churning and relentless. Then, a message from Tristan finally appeared. Tristan: [What kind of ridiculous story are you making up now?] Tristan: [Emily, do you think you're eighteen, playing these childish games? I want that document in my hands within thirty minutes, or we're getting divorced.] A surge of terror shot through me as I looked up, catching sight of a heavy branch snapping loose and crashing down. In an instant, everything went dark.

During a typhoon alert, Joyce Lane calls me and tells me to pick her up from her company. On the way there, I receive a text from her. "You don't have to pick me up anymore. I'm going to stay over at Fin's place for a few days." I opt not to start anything with her. Instead, I calmly text back, "Okay." In the middle of the night, Finley Jones, Joyce's junior at work, uploads a social media post that's meant for my eyes only. Joyce can be seen huddling against Finley while feeding him some snacks in the photo. The window outside depicts a storm. The caption writes, "It's only befitting for me to tide out the worst weather with the woman I love the most." I leave a like on the photo calmly. Suddenly, Joyce calls me and demands what that like means. I reply coolly, "It means we're breaking up."

I've spent the day trying on bridal gowns with my fiance, Philip Dillon. Just as I'm about to pay for the wedding gown that I really want, another woman suddenly snatches it out of my hands. "Sorry, but I had my sights set on this gown first!" I frown instantly at her words. That's when one of my friends suddenly pats me on the shoulder before murmuring to me, "Hang on. Let your fiance deal with this situation. He already placed an order on this wedding gown when it was first released, so he must be specifically waiting for you to come here and pick it out." I turn to look at Philip instinctively. As expected, I see him approaching the woman… only to help her stuff the gown's hem, which is sticking out, back into the gown's bag. "Since someone else has already set her sights on the gown, then I suppose we don't have any other choice." Philip then pinches me on the cheek, the smile on his face tender yet casual. "My Elyse is the most gracious woman I've ever known. It's not like this is the one and only gown for you, right?" I just stare at the woman's smug look, feeling very dazed. Instead of responding to Philip, I just shoot a small smile at my friend, who looked pretty awkward on my behalf. "It's fine. I don't want the wedding gown anymore." It's true that the gown isn't the one and only gown for me. Similarly, it's not like Philip is the one and only man for me in life as well.

During Black Friday, the intelligent system I develop helps the company run highly targeted ads and brings in 30 million dollars in revenue. But when I apply for the project bonus, the director rejects it. "The system is just an auxiliary tool. The performance belongs to the sales department." I hold back my frustration and pull up the system logs. "88% of the orders come from the system's targeted pushes. According to company policy, I should receive a 0.5% commission." The director glances at me, twirling his pen. "If the sales commission doesn't go to the sales department, should it go to you? And your lousy system exceeds the API limit and racks up extra fees. You still owe us a hundred thousand dollars. We'll deduct that from your salary." Three days before Christmas sales are set to begin, the system completely shuts down because of API restrictions. Late at night, the director calls me. I stare at my computer screen. "Since the system is just an auxiliary tool, why don't you start with manual targeting?"