Pink Venom Dance Novels & Stories

TWO PINK LINES, ONE NIGHT STAND --- Beth Williams knew the rules at Knight Tower: clean, stay invisible, never look the billionaire in the eye. She broke them all at the masquerade gala. One spilled drink on CEO Adrian Knight became a $50,000 dance. One dance became one elevator. One night in a masked stranger’s arms became two pink lines six weeks later. Now Beth is fired, homeless, and pregnant with Adrian’s baby. He doesn’t remember her face from that night, but he remembers the scandal: a cleaner accused of corporate espionage. When she tells him the truth, Adrian voids his engagement to shipping heiress Valeria D’Souza and moves Beth into his penthouse that night. There are no phones. No unlocked doors. No escape. Adrian calls it “protection.” Beth calls it a gilded cage. He’s haunted by his mother’s death in childbirth and believes control keeps people alive. His heir will not grow up poor, endangered, or unloved, even if he has to become a monster to guarantee it. But Valeria brings a knife to Beth’s throat. The board demands a paternity test. And when Beth bleeds at 14 weeks, Adrian flies them to a private island with no way out. Trapped together, Beth learns Adrian kept her hairpin from that night. He never forgot her. She was his first choice in ten years, not a mistake. When premature labor, CPS, and his own trauma collide, Adrian must decide what he fears more: losing control, or losing her. Because Knights don’t lose what’s theirs. The question is whether Beth will choose to be his.

As the upcoming tour approached, the dance troupe suddenly revoked my position as the lead dancer. Anxious to get an explanation in person, I lost my footing due to my distracted state and tumbled down the stairs. While enduring the sharp pain and preparing to call for emergency services, a notification popped up on my phone screen: “Redwood Dance Troupe: Welcome our new lead dancer, Averil Wells, and our generous sponsor, Julian Ford." The accompanying photo featured two smiling faces—my husband of seven years, whom I had secretly married, and his pampered mistress. Julian had his arm wrapped around Averil's waist as he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. Meanwhile, Averil clung to Julian's neck, her face radiating shyness and delight.

Abeni's world turns upside down when her father can't repay his debt to NYC's most dangerous man - Dmitry Kuznetsov. With her freedom on the line, Abeni gets sucked into Dmitry's glamorous yet treacherous domain. Though Dmitry commands her obedience, Abeni feels an irresistible spark with the magnetic crime lord. As the stakes climb higher, she faces an impossible choice - submit to Dmitry's demands or put her family at risk. Torn between loyalty and desire, Abeni engages in a high-stakes game with the cunning kingpin. But Dmitry never loses control - he wants Abeni, and he intends to own her in every way. Will Abeni give in to Dmitry to protect those she loves? Or will she defy the Russian Devil to save herself?

The death of her sister shocked Belle but that didn’t stop her to step into the mystery of her sister’s murder. But what if those murderers aren’t done by a supernatural being? Belle’s sister died the day before her marriage. People claimed she had killed herself but Belle didn’t believe the investigation and decided to take it by herself. Everything comes down when she had no rules, and the only way for her to find the bottom of the mystery was to call up a demon. Except, this demon is a willful, selfish, and as handsome as devilish he was. Extract: In fear, Belle tried to dash but a hand had sneaked out from the black fog, holding tightly to her elbow. What followed the tight grip on her arm was a voice that sounded deep— deep enough to sound as though he hell was shallower compared to him. "Now, now, where are you running, little prey?" Belle didn't know what she had done. She didn't know what force had caused her to activate what she did. She didn't know what had happened either as her mind was slow to grasp her surrounding. But there was one thing she knew after staring back at the bright red eyes across her. She was looking at a demon. She had called a demon.

"Sir, do I need to take off my pants just to go through the bone-setting therapy?" With flushed cheeks, I lie on the massaging bed. Henry Irwin, a therapist with an eight-pack, is tugging down my yoga pants as we speak. "If you want to have the best effects, you can't wear pants at all." Henry grips the hem of my pants before tugging them downward slightly. I quickly grab his hand. "I don't think that's a good idea!" The truth is, I'm already flooding down there. I'm worried that he might see how wet I am when he takes off my pants.

Keanna woke up not remembering what had happened to her. She woke up living with a man she barely knew, who seemed to know her but was always expecting her to do different things. What’s worse, he calls her by a different name. The weird dreams, tiredness, voices in her head and forgetfulness. Would they be able to adjust to this reality? How will they coincide with each other?

After being dumped for the 99th time for being a “chatterbox,” I finally met my soulmate, Lysander Thorne. As the Mafia godfather, he was a man of few words, but listened to every single word I said with rapt attention. His proposal shattered the curse that had doomed me to a hundred rejections. But, I discovered a fatal flaw in Lysander after we got married. Whatever he spoke to me, he never exceeded ten words. I thought it was his stoic personality until I gave a hand to a girl being harassed by a thug at the bar. At the police station, the girl asked, “Has your husband not arrived yet? My friend will pick me up and you can leave with us.” The next second, I saw Lysander rushing in, looking utterly disheveled. “Elara Thorne! Why do you stir up trouble on your very first day back home? You've got wings of your own now, haven’t you? Did I ever tell you to stay safe firstly when something happened? Stop being so impulsive!” It turned out Lysander could get emotional. How ridiculous! When Lysander entered, his eyes were solely fixed on Elara. I looked at him with a blank expression, and wordlessly walked out of the police station.

One night. One kiss. One viral humiliation. Livia Harper built Theo Whitford’s dying company into a billion-dollar empire while carrying his child in secret. On their second anniversary, in front of two hundred cameras, Theo introduced his college sweetheart as “the woman I’ve always loved” and kissed her like Livia never existed. Twenty-four hours later Livia is Mrs. Alexander Kane (the most ruthless billionaire in America and Theo’s oldest enemy). The contract is simple: one year of fake marriage, seventy-five million dollars, and the total annihilation of Theo Whitford’s life. Rules: No feelings. The baby stays a secret. When the year ends, she disappears forever. But contracts weren’t made for the kind of fire that ignites when the woman who has nothing left to lose marries the man who’s never lost anything. Some vows are made to be broken. Others are made to burn the world down.

After a venomous snake bites me, my husband, Daniel Dawson, injects the only antivenom into my adopted sister, Grace Winton. Before I black out, I see my parents, Daniel, and my son, Ethan Dawson, all gathered around Grace, while I lie alone on the grass, completely ignored. When I come to, my colleague shakes his head and tells me the toxin has already spread. Within 48 hours, my body will begin to rot from the inside, and I'll die in unbearable pain. I give up the conservative plan and swallow a potent painkiller instead. Over the next two days, I transfer the hospital my grandfather gave me and every asset in my name to Grace. I divorce Daniel and place both his and Ethan's hands into Grace's. When I put Grace's name on the amyotrophic lateral sclerosis treatment protocol I've spent five years developing, they finally smile, hold my hand, and tell me we're finally a real family. I stay silent and only smile at them. I wonder what their faces will look like two days later when they see my body.

Sandra Kinsey's dance studio was where she buried her passion. It was also our secret place. No one else was allowed in. No one but me. Until one day, her assistant barged in, using a love for Latin dance as an excuse, and danced with her intimately. Sandra didn't push him away. That was the moment I knew—you can't make someone stay when their heart has already left. I stripped her of her authority, took over the company myself, and gave Sandra all the freedom she could ever ask for. But later, eyes red and voice trembling, she looked at me and demanded to know why. I sat on the couch and glanced at her with indifference. "Freedom," I said, "always comes at a price. Doesn't it?"