Pokéblock Novels & Stories

I shoot to my feet and practically scream, “She?!? They’re sending a woman?” I suddenly hear the sound of heels clicking on the floor, and turn to see a pair of eyes I never thought I’d be seeing again. “Yes, Tate, they sent a woman. I’ve been hired to save your sorry ass,” she calmly states with a look of disgust in her ocean blue eyes. **** What will happen when Ashton Tate, the scandal-ridden MVP second baseman, comes face-to-face with his ex-girlfriend, Elizabeth Mason, whom the team has hired to salvage his reputation and career? Sparks are sure to fly when the two of them are forced to spend every waking moment together, in an effort to revamp his bad-boy image. Unresolved grudges, past heartache, and malicious former flames and rivals block the path to redemption at every turn. Can Elizabeth help Ashton find his way back to the man he once was, or is this his last strikeout?

“Spread those thighs, little one.” His voice was a low growl as his hand closed around her hips. “Y-yes, Daddy,” she gasped, trembling as he dragged her down to his mouth. “Mmmhh… Daddy’s good girl,” he muttered darkly against her slick heat. “From this moment, your body, your screams, your soul—belong to me.” **************************************** He bought her with blood money. He keeps her with chains and silk. She swears she’ll never bend, but in his world of shadows and sin, defiance only feeds his hunger. In Naples, he’s “Il Diavolo”—the devil every man fears. To her, he’s the ruthless savior who dragged her from an auction block straight into hell. And hell has never felt so addictive. Claimed by the Don is a dark mafia romance laced with filthy dominance, dangerous obsession, and a love story sharp enough to cut.

This book blends the mafia, werewolf, and contracted marriage troop to make a striking romantic and suspense-filled novel. Death or marriage! Tells the story of Janelle Ronan and her breathtaking, childhood crush, Truce King, a man who had always been rumoured to be anything but ordinary. Fate spins their romance into action when Truce's father is murdered and he’s forced to take over his father’s place as the next Mafia Godfather of the Inner Circle. The story takes a mysterious twist when Janelle and Ronan fall in love, but there’s a stumbling block, Truce’s true identity which is shockingly out of the norm and far from human. Janelle is faced with the task of revenge for the murder of the two men she had called father and loyalty and love for the mysterious Truce King. Compiled with the betrayal from trusted ones and a long bloody fight for survival. Would Janelle Ronan the stunning mafia bride, survive? There are only two outcomes for her in this novel. Victory or insanity, and in its wake, death.

In the fifth year of being Mrs. Cloud, my brother-in-law passed away. My mother, stressed by the thought of my older sister spending her youth in widowhood, wanted her to have a child with the help of my husband. I refused outright, but my protests were useless. My mother brought people to block the door, and I was left to watch helplessly as my husband and my half-sister entered the bedroom together. "She's your sister. What's the harm in letting her have him?" I thought that my husband couldn't possibly do anything with my sister since she was family. I thought he would draw the line, out of decency, out of respect. However, as time passed, my heart grew cold. Only then did I realize that I was the only one who cared about this matter. While I clutched our daughter in my arms and cried in silent devastation, he was going at it with my sister.

I was at the grocery store stocking up on holiday supplies when my phone suddenly pinged with a friend request. The profile picture was a scenic shot I'd casually snapped years ago, and I knew right away who it was. But we hadn't spoken in five years—total radio silence. I had no idea why Marcello Golden was popping up now, so I typed into the verification field: [What's going on?] His reply flashed up almost instantly: [I'm back. Can we meet? I have something important to tell you in person.] Something important? As I stared at those words, I found the situation both absurd and amusing. What could be so important between us after all this time? I pushed the thought aside, pulled out my phone to scan the payment code for the cashier, and once the transaction was complete, my first action was to block his contact permanently.

In a drought-ravaged apocalypse, I kept our entire apartment block alive with my “watermaker” ability. But when I grew weak, my neighbors shattered my limbs and turned me into a living water source. Later, when raiders stormed in, they dragged me out to take the blade for them, only to realize that even my severed arms could still produce water. So, they shouted about “saving humanity,” then shoved me into the crowd and fled in the chaos. People rushed forward one after another, tearing at my flesh. But I didn’t die. What was left of me fell into the hands of a monster, and I was subjected to inhuman torment day after day. Ten years later, when the apocalypse finally ended, that monster tossed me into an incinerator. Only then did I die. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the moment I first awakened my ability, just as my neighbor knocked on the door, begging for water.

As the fated mate of the future Alpha of the Silvermoon pack, I've been waiting for Ethan Ford for three whole years. When he gets close to me, my wolf howls obnoxiously because of the mate bond between us. Despite that, he refuses to complete the marking ceremony on the night of the full moon. After that, Ethan shows signs of obsessive infatuation with Ella Turner, my stepsister. He claims that Ella is his true love and goes as far as to release his possessive pheromones all over the pack territory while completely disregarding the pack's rules just so he can woo her. This time, my wolf no longer howls in sorrow, nor do I attempt to get him to stay with me via our mind-link. Instead, I just watch Ethan and Ella's lovey-dovey interactions calmly. At that moment, I've already taken the initiative to block Ethan out of my mind forever.

Four months pregnant. I was alone when a rival family came for me.. A searing pain tore through my stomach. I couldn't reach my husband, Don Lorenzo. His phone was off. I woke up in a sterile hospital bed. Three days had passed. And the baby... was gone. That’s when I heard the nurses gossiping. “Heard Don Lorenzo cleared out a block of Fifth Avenue for his mistress three days ago. Had his phone off so they wouldn't be disturbed.” Tears rolled down my cheeks, but my heart was empty. I gave up my career, my whole life, for him. The Don who promised me forever… he shattered that promise just days before our fifth anniversary. Back home, I dug out an old phone and made a call. A number I hadn't touched in five years. "The European tour you mentioned…" I said, my voice hollow. "I'm in. I can be ready in a week."

My biased mother brought my sister, Irene Baxter, to help me with my child. But one day, I forgot to bring a contract to work. When I returned home, I saw two bodies entwined. To cover up their secret, my husband, Sam Hodgson, and Irene pushed me off the tenth floor. It was only after my death that I realized I had been nothing more than a tool for carrying on the family name. "It's better that she's dead. Now my sweet girl can be a mom without having to go through childbirth." "Sleeping with her was revolting; she was like a block of wood. Irene is so much better." Even Irene had regrets. "Still, we shouldn't have pushed her down. She was smashed beyond recognition—otherwise, we might’ve been able to sell her corpse for a pretty penny." When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day they pushed me off the building. This time, I wouldn't let any of them off the hook.

My husband's childhood friend says she wants her crystal beads to soak up some of the good luck in our home. Because of that, he scatters the beads on the floor, making me slip and miscarry. I'm in agony as I lie on the operating table. I call my husband incessantly, but all he does is block my number. I lie in the hospital ward after the operation. I see my husband's childhood friend's social media update—a photo of him worshipfully holding out a certificate while getting down on one knee. It's captioned, "He loves me so much! I said I'm interested in running a business and he actually set up a company for me!" On the day of the branch company's grand opening, my husband's childhood friend wears an expensive custom-made gown. Meanwhile, I wear her discarded goods. I'm barred from even entering the building. I suppress my bitterness and call my lawyer. "Are the divorce procedures done?"