Round Folding Dining Table Novels & Stories

My mother-in-law, Kylie McGowan, told me that she wanted to experience the life of the younger crowd, so I took her to my husband Jerome Callen's newly opened upscale bar for a quiet drink. I had just ordered her a signature cocktail when a woman from the booth across the aisle sauntered over, wine glass in hand. Her eyes flicked over the menu on our table, and she laughed mockingly. "Seriously? You ordered the cheapest drink on the menu? Did you bring this old lady here just to enjoy the free AC? People like you should stay in the gutter. This place isn't meant for penniless people!" I rose to my feet, holding back my temper. "We're paying for our drinks here. What does our drink choice have to do with you?" But she suddenly snapped, grabbed a half-finished beer bottle off a nearby table, and swung it at my head. "My husband's the owner of this bar! I could smash your skull in and still afford the damages! Get out, you pauper! Don't be an eyesore here!" I wiped the liquor off my face as my entire body shook with anger. Then I turned away, started my livestream, and spoke directly to my followers. "Look here, everyone! I'm going live to catch a cheater. Let's go explore my husband's other home."

"You really think you can seduce the Alpha looking like that?" The mischievous grey wolf beside me whispered. He was trying to make me give up, but I had to come out the victor in these games for my pack and my family. He slowly took one clawed finger and slipped the strap of my silk burgundy floor length gown off my shoulder in front of the whole table of wolf royalty. "That's a little more like it," He coaxed, "Look at him with all of those other attractive wolves to choose from. You'll never catch his attention like this." I stared at the end of the table where the Alpha sat. He was dark of hair and broad of chest and always had a smile and was willing to lend a paw to a wolf in need. He was laughing at something the stunning blonde she-wolf beside him had said and that cheerful couple drew a sharp contrast from the unknown man on his other side. I couldn't even be sure that man was a wolf at all, he was pale and lean but his eyes were dark, cold and...and never seemed to leave my face. "Just give up the games now," the grey wolf continues, "fall into my arms instead I can take care of you just as well as some fancy Alpha can. Close your eyes, you won't even notice the difference." I felt his tongue from my collar bone to my jaw.

In the VIP lounge of an underground casino, Maeve, the Falcone family's princess, had been plied with too much hard liquor. Fueled by alcohol, someone goaded her into revealing the most shameless thing she'd ever done to win over the Don. She swirled her glass, pointed at me dealing cards behind the table, and threw her head back with a laugh. "Seven years ago, when Declan was in a coma after a shootout, I took his private phone. And I deleted the distress message that bitch sent him. Every last trace of it. Then I replied in his name: You're a burden. Go die." "You'll never guess what happened next. That idiot stood outside the safe house all night in a downpour, like a stray dog. I almost died laughing…" The room erupted in crude laughter. Only the man enthroned at the head of the table remained silent. The crystal whiskey glass in his hand shattered with a sharp crack. Blood mixed with the amber liquor, trickling over the veins on the back of his hand before dripping onto the carpet. His murderous, bloodshot eyes were locked on me. I calmly dealt the last hole card in front of him and offered a clean, white silk handkerchief. "Don Declan, you should wipe your hand. Blood on the felt is bad luck." After all, some stains never wash out.

My husband, Landon Hart, lost a truth-or-dare round, so he carries out the punishment by making out passionately with his secretary, Amelia Colton, in my car. They've gone so far as to leave stains of their coupling on my son's booster seat. After Amelia sends me the video clip of them making out, I forward it to Landon right away. "Are you about to file for bankruptcy, Mr. Hart? What, are you only capable of cheating on me in my car?" Landon sends me an audio message. His tone carries a hint of satisfaction—clearly, he's done having his fun. "This is just a business alliance between us. Do you seriously think I'm your actual husband? It's just a dare! What, are you too prim and proper for games now?" I just chortle coldly in return. Well then, I'll make Landon understand that he should pay the price for doing something he's not supposed to do.

Brianna Jones sailed through all forms of torture, pain, betrayals, humiliations, and anything that could easily break a regular person. However, what broke the last straw was her parents' attempt to 'accidentally' abort her unborn child. Thinking she finally escaped it all, the omega found herself in the clutches of Jack Nicholas Burkley, an alpha who detests her to no end. Another round of torture awaited her, but this time around, the omega swore not to suffer in silence. *** You're still the same as before, Brianna. You only accept my offer when you need me. When you don't need me anymore, you will throw me away and have an affair with the likes of my father, just like what you did back— ." "I'm like this because I was raped. And don't you dare call me a cheap slut! I may be a lowly omega, but I'm not a slut. I. am. not. cheap. either"

They say nuns are off-limits. I call that a challenge. They say obsession is a sin. I stopped counting sins when blood became my business. She says I’m a sinner. She’s not wrong. But when I have her whispering confessions against my skin that would make Lucifer himself blush, what does that make her? A firecracker wrapped in a habit. All rosaries and rebellion, thinking she can drive me away with Scripture and that ice-cold stare. Amusing. Her holy water won't wash away what I do to those round tits. She's not a bride of Christ yet. And the harder she prays for salvation, the more determined I am to show her what real worship feels like. They say God answers all prayers. But in my city, prayers come to me first. Her vows or my empire. Heaven or my hell. The choice was never really hers to make. God may forgive me, but she won’t.

Bad boys. That's the only thing standing between Isaac and his happily ever after. But they are all he seems to be attracted to. To change that, he decides to bad-boy-detox to find the man who's good enough for him. But will he manage to fix his bad boy problem when the two bad boys he fears losing his heart to the most insist on dragging him back into their lives? One, a guitar-strumming rock star bad boy he had a one-night stand with and swore to stay away from. Two, the neighbourhood bad boy who also happens to be his high school love who broke his heart years ago. Isaac knows letting both boys back into his life could be a big mistake. But…what if it could be different this time round? Maybe he can find his happily ever after with the right bad boy…right? MATURE LANGUAGE & THEMES|BXB|LGBTQ+ [THIS IS A SPIN-OFF OF LOVING JUDE, BUT CAN BE READ AS A STANDALONE BOOK.] Updates MON/WED/FRI

I quit and dipped. City threw a parade. Only Jenna Blake—my oh-so-gifted junior who claimed she could "see through killers' eyes"—lost it. At her celebration banquet, she went full drama queen: "I owe everything to Kate Mercer. Please, bring her back!" I laughed. Cold. Not happening. Last time around, I was the hotshot detective. But every clue I found? She dropped it first like she read my mind. People started saying I was washed. So I went all in—three months, no sleep, cracked a massive trafficking ring. Led the raid myself. She beat me there. Again. Place was cleaned out. Boom. She's the city's golden girl. I'm the clown with no game. Pressure got ugly. My head snapped. I died chasing the last scumbag. Then—bam. I woke up. Same day. Raid morning. Round two.

My parents, the wealthiest couple in the country, were famous philanthropists. I had to ask them for permission if I wanted to spend more than five bucks. The day I was diagnosed with terminal cancer, I asked them for 100 dollars, but instead of helping, they yelled at me for three hours. "What kind of disease could you get at your age? If you're going to ask for money, at least come up with a better excuse." "Do you know that 100 dollars could support children in poverty-stricken areas for a long time? Your sister is more sensible than you." I dragged my sick body for miles, back to the small basement I called home. But as I passed the mall, I saw my parents, live on a huge screen, spending a fortune to rent out Disneyland for my sister. I couldn't hold back the tears anymore. A hundred dollars wouldn't even cover one round of chemotherapy. I just wanted to buy a new outfit and leave with some dignity.

I shouldn’t get wet at the thought of my step father, but I do. It all started the day we had a business meeting. I work as an intern at his company and I couldn't help but imagine his long slender fingers f*cking me.  My name is Emma and no, I am not a pretty model queen. I am what you call a geek, a nerd and a wallflower.  But this wallflower wants to get bent over on his table and will do anything to be his slut. Even if it means getting my mother out of the way.