Participle Dangling

When Andrei Ivanov returns home to clean up his twin's mess, he doesn't expect his stay to be long or eventful. But then his father makes him an offer he can't refuse, and he has no choice but to turn to the one woman he can't stand—Holly Anderson. She's everything he hates in a woman: incredibly spoilt, short-tempered and too damn self-absorbed. And the biggest red flag? She's his frenemy's little sister and comes with a giant warning label. But with the body of a goddess and the untamed spirit of a gladiator, she tempts him beyond measure and makes him want to break all his rules and risk it all… Holly Anderson didn't become a national treasure through talent alone. Hell, she's had to work hard and fight everyone and everything, including all kinds of temptation. So when Andrei walks into her life, dangling a too-good-to-be-true deal right before her eyes, she knows she should shoot him down and send him packing. But down on her luck and dreaming of a big comeback, she throws caution to the wind and signs on the dotted line, jumping headlong into her long-held fantasy… Against the sweeping backdrop of Rock Castle's underworld, smoky boardrooms and awry business deals, what begins as a harmless con soon spirals into stolen moments of fleeting kisses and lingering caresses, taking this unlikely duo down a dark and thrilling path where desire and danger constantly collide and heartbreaking choices must be made. 

How wonderful will it be to turn back time and undo some of our worst mistakes, right? She is sent back in time after being betrayed by the people she loved the most. To redeem her lost glory by moving on or to become a villain in her own story by seeking revenge. ******* A low, unbearable grunt escapes Margarita's lips as she peels her eyes open. Her solemn face was expressionless as she looked around. 'Where is she?' she thought, still scanning the place. Dressed in a beautiful white, glamorous wedding dress that had diamonds attached to every inch of the hem of the floating gown. She realizes a white veil is dangling from her hair. Bone-crushing pain shot through her spine as memories from her past came rushing to her head at once. A shrieking yelp escapes her lips as she clutches tightly to her head, trying to stop seeing those images. Their betrayals. Her lover and her older sister had teamed up to send her to the afterlife. Images of how she'd wholeheartedly loved them flashed past, slapping her on the face as her core twisted in misery. Her eyes were wedged with tears, and her heart was bleeding from regret. Even her best friend joined in on her demise. Oh! If only she'd realized earlier that it was all a facade. If only she were giving us a chance to return to Earth. But she knew deep down that it was all wishful thinking. However, "Your wish has been fulfilled, Lady Margarita, to redeem your lost glory or to return as a villainess for revenge." She hears a voice deep in her subconscious… **Please support this shameless author by voting for the book if you like it.**

When frustrations over her joblessness lead Stella to reluctantly heed her best friend Lyra's urging for a night of reckless abandon at the club, she never expected to surrender her virginity to a skilled stranger's seduction. However, the next morning's twist of fate leaves her stunned - Stella has been hired as a caretaker for the reclusive yet ruggedly handsome billionaire Mr. Lockwood, who is an uncanny doppelganger of the very man who stripped her of innocence just hours before. Though Mr. Lockwood's wheelchair-bound state seems to defy the passionate lover she knew, Stella must unravel the possibilities and darker secrets surrounding his true identity. Is this wealthy enigma truly the sultry stranger she knew so intimately, or are sinister truths lurking beneath his charming exterior? Can Stella resist the growing obsession that threatens to consume her with every encounter? What twisted games is Mr. Lockwood playing, and how far is he willing to go to possess her utterly? *** As if on autopilot and lost in thought, I knelt before Adrian. My hands moved instinctively to remove his clothes, fulfilling my role as his caretaker. Before fully registering my actions, I had already pulled down Adrian's boxers. My eyes widened as I unexpectedly found myself face to face with Adrian's very sturdy c*ck dangling before my very eyes. With a hint of fascination, I audibly gulped, the sound resonating in the quiet space as I blushed unable to tear my gaze away. "Well damn,"

His eyes darkened as he leaned closer, placing a finger on my mouth. “Uh-uh, what did I say you call me when we're alone?” My body tingled with heat. “Daddy?” “Urgh…” A guttural groan tore from his chest. “Yes, baby?” My mind spaced for a second and Andre took advantage of that, tucking his hands under my legs and carrying me bridal style. “Andre, what are you doing?!” I shriek, dangling my legs in the air. “Finishing what we started, baby.” he chuckled, heading straight for the front door. I shook my head in bemusement. His daughter just found out about us and his brain goes straight to sex? Men… I wasn't any better though as I just waited for him to cross that threshold and pounce on me, instead of dissuading him. He strode over to the loveseat couch, sliding me down his body before pushing me back to the couch. Propped up on my elbows, I looked up at him with hooded eyes, only for the the door knob to flip. My eyes widened and instantly, I jerked up to my feet, coming to stand behind Andre. I had no idea who it was as Claire would have just barged right in. The door opening seemed to take several minutes but in reality, it was only seconds. It swung inwards to reveal Leila, the last person I was expecting to see. She took one look at us and wasn't in the least bit surprised. “So it's true?” Those cold grey eyes moved over to me. “You're the whore that's fucking my husband?”

Our third wedding anniversary was coming up, but my wife, a programmer at a major tech company, suddenly claimed she had to work overtime to meet deadlines. She said she couldn't go on the trip we'd planned. That very afternoon, however, her intern posted a video on social media. My wife—the same woman who normally wouldn't even open a door for fear of chipping her manicure—was holding a screwdriver, repairing an old flip phone. The caption read: [Having a programmer wife is the best. Even when Grandma's phone breaks, we don't need to pay for repairs.] I chuckled, liked the post, and commented: [Right up her alley.] Within minutes, the company group chat exploded. There were over ninety-nine unread messages speculating on when I'd finally snap. Not long after, my wife called. Her voice was ice-cold. "What was that comment supposed to mean? How is Shawn supposed to face anyone at work now? "His grandma's phone broke, so I fixed it. What's the problem? Your parents have always spoiled you. You can't possibly understand real hardship. "Delete the comment. I'll make it up to you over the New Year; we can take that trip then." The New Year? I'd already waited through two other major public holidays. I'd even taken special leave for this trip, and she still bailed. Now she was dangling empty promises again? I hung up on her. My leave ended around the same time as our divorce cooling-off period.