Real Or Not Real Hunger Games

He caught hold of her leg and yanked backwards. She hung on and flailed both legs, kicking him in the head, the face. He fought to hold her legs down. Sweat lathered her hands. They slipped from the post. He yanked again. She rolled over to face him and punched with both fists. Her right fist caught him in the eye. He growled in pain, then threw himself on top of her, pinning her arms and legs. She screamed.She strained to free herself, lunged up to bite him. He jerked backwards. They slid down one stair. She tried to scream again. He slapped a palm over her mouth, his breath hot on her face.She fought him until they had tumbled down every stair. By the time they reached the bottom, every ligament burned. She stared at him wide-eyed, gasping for breath between his bruising fingers.She trembled violently, longed to run again but knew it would do no good. He stood at a good seven inches taller and outweighed her by at least fifty pounds. She didn't stand a chance.All she could do now was placate him. Do what he wanted... no matter what it was!

During Christmas break, my boyfriend, Trevor Hayes, asks me to stop by and feed the dog that his childhood friend, Evelyn Summers, keeps at her place. I bring a bag of kibble over. But the second I open the door, a huge pit bull lunges at me and bites into my face and arms. Luckily, a neighbor hears me screaming and pulls me out of its jaws, but the damage is already done. The scars will stay with me forever. I break down, but Trevor blames me instead. "You must've done something wrong when you fed Mojo and set him off. You just got a scar, but Mojo's dead!" The weight of it all crushes me until I climb a rooftop and jump. After dying, I see Trevor holding Evelyn in his arms. "Honey, you're so clever. Starving Mojo for a few days really worked. Now, she's dead. We can finally be together." When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Trevor asks me to go feed that dog.

"Hayden, you have been a bad boy have you not?" Vincenzo said to me as he unclasped his belt and drew it off his waist, his muscles flexing. "What do you mean-" "Turn around!" He demanded from me as he did so before I could do it. He wrapped the belt around my hands and tightened it. "Vincenzo?" I whisper yelled at him with a glare. "Get on your knees little prince and open your mouth for me. Daddy needs to punish you." "Why?" "Shut your mouth before I do it with my dick Hayden," he threatened me with an evil smirk. "You would not dare!" I snapped at him before letting out a gasp as he pulled his hardened cock out of his boxers, the cap of the monster pink and shiny with precum. "Oh little prince, I would dare," he said as he forced me to my knees with a hand on my shoulder. "Good boy," he groaned as he slid his dick into my mouth, my wetness wrapping around his cock. "Ah, your mouth feels so good," he murmured. And then he began to move, his cock growing more inside of my mouth. ...... Hayden and Vincenzo clash in a battle of wits and strength. Though they are attracted just as much as they despise each other, they are drawn together in an intense and dangerous game. It takes two to tango. It takes two to play the dangerous game. And the winner takes all.

I Alpha Ryan Black Bishop rejected you, Bella Adams as my mate and Luna" The last hope of Bella died after hearing this. His words stabbed her heart like a sharp knife, cutting her heart into tiny pieces. She looked at him for the last time. His commanding glare and disgust in his eyes showed clearly that it was over. Bella bent down her head. 'I, Bella Adams accept your rejection" She whispered then turned away. Tears rolled down on her cheek. She started taking slow steps.

Keaton Rourke and I get in a car accident. My liver ruptures, and I'm drenched in my blood. Teresa Bellamy, my wife, leaves me to die and runs off to save Keaton, who only has a scratch on his forehead. I'm unconscious and clinging to life in the emergency room, but Teresa fusses over how to keep Keaton's forehead from getting a scar. I wake up feeling nothing but disappointment and toss the divorce papers right in her face. She rips the divorce papers to pieces like a lunatic and makes it clear that divorce will only happen over her dead body. I used to bend over backward to make her happy. Now I'm ready to divorce her, no matter what it takes.

My wife, Vivian Lane, is the wealthiest woman. Her assistant had made it clear he had three "do-not-disturb" rules: no messages after work, no calls on weekends, and absolutely no contact when he was in a bad mood. Because of this, the company lost a major deal—one worth over a hundred million. Yet the assistant looked completely unbothered. "Sorry, I had no idea one phone call could make such a difference. If something goes wrong and I have to be the one to take the blame, fine—I'm just another cog in the machine." My wife snapped, "Who said anything about blaming you? You did exactly what you were told." She shot me a look of pure irritation. "You take the profits from the project, and when things fall apart, you dump it on the regular employees? Is that how you run a business? If your company folds over something this small, it just proves you're not fit to be in charge." It suddenly clicked, and I let out a quiet laugh. So she thought this project belonged to my company? I didn't bother correcting her. To be honest, I couldn't really hold it against her—after all, it wasn't my company going under.

Book two. Please read "Not All That Glitters" before "Not All Who Wander Are Lost."Christmas 2019 in Auburn brought with it a chance for new beginnings. Complicated relationships started to mend and different recoveries were being made. As far as Whitney York and Hollis Bogard were concerned, they knew every hardship they'd face from that point on would be easier since they had each other for support.Fast forward to May, five months later. While making the last minute preparations for she and Whitney's Christmas gift to New York for a week, Hollis gets some disheartening news. If that weren't bad enough, patching things up with her parents was turning out to be a long, winding road. Dalton's prolonged, stressful testimonies to ensure he gets more than a cash settlement from the wealthy prick who put him in a wheelchair after driving drunk is the last straw. As Hollis starts wrestling with her inner demons again, slipping downward is inevitable. Will she confide in Whitney, or risk relapsing?Since disowning her, Whitney stopped hearing from her perfect family altogether. While the lovers are wrapping up in New York, she suddenly comes face to face with Hollywood's latest headliner;Theresa, her famous sister, has died. Urged to attend the funeral, Whitney makes it clear she won't go without Hollis, the very person her parents blame for staying in Maine.Buckle in! Disclaimer: Strong mature content, graphic scenes, drug usage. 18+, please. This novel won’t be for you if you’re not comfortable with any of the above topics.2020 All Rights Reserved (you know how it goes) Please don't attempt to steal any part of my work.

His name is Raive. The one who, 700 years ago, had lost. The necromancer who conquered half the world with an army of the undead, but then was buried alive under a terrible curse: never to die, never to be saved. He was so feared that all necromancy curses were buried with him, so that never again could such a dangerous magician arise. Angelina – a weak historian-necromancer whose only talent was a flawless grasp of the language of the dead. Fate willed it that she find a mysterious gravestone and break the seal holding the one who was never to be released: Raive – the King of the Dead! What will happen to them next? Will the Undead King help this unknown girl or will he use her mysterious blood to regain his own power and speed his way to the throne? What can they both do when passion begins to ruin all their plans, and dark desires call forth the worst poison?

One day, shortly after I had experienced a miscarriage, Alan brought me a bowl of chicken soup—and a divorce agreement. "Sophia's pregnant," he had said. "So let's just leave each other like mature adults do." Chicken soup had never tasted so bitter in my life. I knew Sophia Mason—he had sponsored her education before. She was also the one who caused my miscarriage. I did not cry. I did not throw a fit. I just asked why. He looked relieved. Then, he looked at me blankly. "The truth is I can't stand you over these seven years. Every time we lie together on our bed, I just can't help but be disgusted by what your body has gone through. "I know you suffered that because of me. But I can't do it. I can't stop remembering how defiled it is. "Our kid is gone. We owe each other nothing now—so let's end it here, right now." So that was it, huh? Hilarious. He had no idea who the "defiled" one was—him. Seven years ago, I inserted a memory chip into his brain to save him. And now, in three days' time, the chip will cease to function. He will remember everything… and he will wish he were long dead.

My fiancé’s first love Chloe had returned. Rumor had it she’d been overseas, treating some rare disease. I hadn’t believed it—until the day she showed up at my engagement party. And I watched as the man I’d been hopelessly in love with since I was sixteen left our party with her. “Wait for me,” Nathan said, “She is fragile. I need to make sure she is well.” He ignored me, but accompanying her to everywhere. I threw away the rings, trashed the wedding gown. When I was pale and trembling from a heart failure later. Nathan finally showed up. “Don’t you dare die on me, Emily,” His hands were shaking. His voice cracked. “We still have a wedding.”