Six Eared Macaque

When I was six, I spilled hot water, slipped, and burned my face. My face was ruined. My parents learned their lesson and never let my younger sister do housework. To everyone they met, they praised her beauty, her charm. They turned to me with nothing but disdain. When I was ten, I had a high fever. They didn't think much of it and let it drag on until my brain was damaged, leaving me slow and dull. They learned their lesson again. From then on, if my sister so much as coughed, they would rush her to the hospital in the dead of night, showering her with care. I was like a failed experiment. Every mistake they made with me, they corrected for her. I was ugly, silent, dim-witted, unwanted. She was beautiful, sweet-talking, clever, adored by all. When I was diagnosed with depression, I gathered what little courage I had and told them. Mom lashed out, called me sick in the head, and accused me of being petty. If I was so capable, she said, I might as well die. It wasn't until my sister pushed me off a high-rise that they found out, by sheer accident, that she wasn't their child at all. I was their one and only biological child.

"I’m a good girl—until I got drunk in Vegas and married a panties-flaming-hot Irishman. Oops. I’ve always lived my life by the rules. Unlike my two sisters, I’m the good one. The responsible one. Going outside my comfort zone is when I wear red lipstick before five PM. That comfort zone of mine? It’s smashed to smithereens on a wild night in Las Vegas when I met—and married—Liam Gallagher. After one shot of tequila, then two, then too many to count, a good girl’s rules tend to disappear. And so do her panties, and her bra, and various other articles of clothing when she’s with an Irishman who knows his way around a woman’s body. Now my husband wants us to stay married. For six months. He says it’ll be worth my while. Considering our chemistry underneath the sheets, I can’t say that he’s wrong. Liam isn’t safe, though. Liam definitely isn’t comfortable. He’s like the male equivalent of wearing red lipstick in the daytime all wrapped up in an irresistible, dangerous package. Yet this stubborn Irishman isn’t about to let me go, drunken Princess Bride-themed Vegas wedding or no. Now I have to decide if I’m brave enough to break the rules for love."

There's this unspoken rule in werewolf high society: no matter how tight the mate bond is, business banquets mean booking a hostess. Six years into our bond, my Alpha mate—Brian Stormclaw—met one. Louise. A scrappy Omega with too much pride and not enough sense. When he offered her his black card, she pushed it back and said, "I'm not some Alpha's pampered pet." Brian? Instantly hooked. Like the Moon Goddess herself had dropped her in his lap. He chased her like he wanted her mark on every pack crest. But he forgot something—I was the Luna he wrote ninety-nine love letters to before I said yes. I didn't beg. Didn't snap. Every time he chose her over me, I lit another letter. First one burned on our anniversary—he bailed to wait outside Louise's flower shop, just to walk her home. Letter thirty-four? He left me stranded in a dangerous hunting ground to keep her company. Said she was scared of the dark. Fifty-two? Torched the second he replaced our wedding photo with some sketch she made on. ... And when the ninety-ninth turned to ash, so did whatever was left of us. I walked away. For good.

To love someone is not easy, even more so when this someone doesn't even know of your existence. Today, anyone who looks at the powerful, dominant, charming, conquering, self-confident man cannot imagine how much he has suffered. Bullying marked his entire childhood, but big, round violet eyes saved his little world when he was only six years old, and since then his heart has been decreed to belong to her. A few years go by, they go to the same school, determined not to be an invisible part of the girl's life anymore, things could only go wrong. Now she is the one whose world has been turned upside down, victim of the wickedness of the teenagers in her class, her parents leave her in the gutter and everyone turns their back on her, Iuri tries to go after her, but she despises and humiliates him. Seven years after the incident at school, they meet again, Iuri determined to get revenge on her and she determined to earn his forgiveness. He is now the CEO of Stevens Construction and she is his secretary. Will he be able to leave her after one night?

Larissa Maynard, engaged and ready to be married has her life turning upside down when her ex boyfriend suddenly shows up at her doorstep on the night of her engagement party. Caspian Bianchi let go of Larissa years ago due to his ties with the mafia, but after hearing of her forthcoming marriage, he decides to do everything in her power to win her back. Would his determination get him what he wants? Or will the secret of their lives break them for a second time? “Do you remember what I told you when we were together? I told you you were mine forever.” Caspian reminded me. It was something he had said a lot but he was in love so it was expected. “I wasn’t kidding, Larissa. You are mine. You always have been. You always will.” His hand trailed down my body and went into my pants, finding my wet fold through my panties. “I am getting married in six months,” I said, trying not to moan as he rubbed me right where I wanted it. “I swear on my life and yours that you will not marry Alexander Theodore.”

Love and hate get tangled in a sheets when Xavier and Harley gets into a marriage of convenience that defies a fragile and bloodythirsty family rivalry. *** Rich and spoilt, Harley’s perfect life takes a turn when her father tries to force her into a marriage to pay off his depts. Harley’s only escape lies in her father’s worst enemy and business rival: Xavier Everest. And to make matters more complicated, Xavier is the man responsible for her sister’s death four years ago. However, her marriage will protect her and show her father once and for all that he does not own her. It seemed like the perfect plan But Xavier is burdened by dark secrets and vengeful desires. Can six months be enough to fire their passion? Or is the man she turned to for protection, the man she is starting to love, the greatest danger of all? With a killer on loose and love in line, bedsheets aren’t the only tangled thing in this game of hearts

"I need you. Make love to me, please," her breathy whisper hung in the night air. His tender arms drew her closer, and his lips gently met hers. "Before this night is over, there wouldn't be part of your body that wouldn't know my touch." . . Cherry Silverbella Moores: She's the twin who doesn't give a damn. A fighter, troublemaker, and a chaotic soul. She strikes fear into the hearts of the poor people of Castle Lore. Cherry indulges in casual relationships but avoids meaningful connections like a plague. She likes to fuck but despises physical contact. She has locked away her emotions for over a decade, feeling nothing except anger and cold indifference. Ixora Crystabella Moores: She's the twin everyone adores, the nurturing mother hen. Always eager to lend a helping hand, she cleans up after her chaotic twin, managing her messes. According to the people of Castle Lore, Cherry is the 'whore,' while Ixora is the 'nun.' She is soft-spoken and shy, but when angered, she can be as volatile as her twin sister. Jake Brown: A former special agent turned medical doctor, mourning the loss of his beloved brother who died six months ago in a bomb explosion. A vital part of him has been torn away by his brother's death, and he struggles to keep himself from crumbling. Kind and gentle, he is loved by everyone due to his patience and compassion. However, he becomes a storm when provoked. Then, there's Jerald Brown: The brother everyone believed was dead but has been alive and in captivity, planning his escape for six months. He's grumpy, hates people, and prefers to keep to himself. Their lives are intertwined; two brothers who thought they had lost each other forever, and identical twins who are as different as day and night.

I had gained thirty pounds after I was pregnant for six months. My husband, Jordan Smith felt disgusted by me. He would rather stay at work than come home, and he fell in love with his girl best friend, Holly Brown. On our wedding anniversary, they were acting intimately in a private room. Meanwhile, Holly was wearing my wedding gown. I saw the whole thing with my own eyes. She had her arms around Jordan’s neck and said to me coyly, “It’s not what you think.” Jordan was agitated after he was caught cheating on me. “I’ve known her since we were kids. We have been best friends for so many years. If something were to happen between us, it would have happened a long time ago.” However, I saw the hickey on Holly’s shoulder. She said to Jordan, “Your wife looks obese. My cousin didn’t gain a single pound after she had given birth. Instead, she looked even slimmer. Jordan, did your wife secretly eat pig feed?” Jordan felt embarrassed. He instructed someone to lock me in a bedroom and starve me for a few days. I suffered from a miscarriage. Indeed, I lost the weight on my abdomen, but Jordan went insane.

That night, Liam served me my usual evening tea. I trusted him completely—he was my mate, after all, and a respected healer of Thornpack. I shouldn't have. When I woke up the next morning, my head was spinning. The special safe where I kept the morphing inhibitor—the one I'd spent my entire savings to import from Europe for our daughter Isla—was empty. Racing to the healing center, I found Liam celebrating. He was handing out moon-blessed wine, beaming with pride as Natalie's daughter Anna showed off her perfect transformation. My inhibitor had been used on his first love's pup instead of our own daughter. The shock triggered something in my brain. When I collapsed, they diagnosed me with the rare tumor that plagued our kind. Without inhibitors, I couldn't stop Isla's transformation that came early, her six year old body couldn't handle the massive wolf form and the force ripped through her young body. And I, for one, don't even have enough money to keep her in a treatment center. She died in my arms three days later, her little claws drawing blood as the pain overwhelmed her. Until her last breath, she kept asking why Papa hadn't come. Now, in my cold, empty home, with the white porcelain urn containing her ashes on the table, I touch her and decide to sever our partnership.

BLURB “Mr Geal, we can't please.” her voice breaks as he trailed his fingers down jaw to her lips. Her breath comes out in gasps as she tightens her legs together, “Please, you are betrothed.” she murmured. His hands move to her neck where he tightens them whispering, “It doesn't matter,” he growls, his fingers finding their way beneath my skirt. “I am yours anyway.” He doesn't give her a second before his fingers sweep her panties aside, and find their way home. “Holy hell-” therest of the words is jumbled in her throat as he slams his lips against hers ~~~~~~ Olivia Macurry, a woman whose lifetime goal was to stop stripping. She wanted nomore than a white collar job where she wouldn't have to open her legs to get paid. After getting ordered by a man whopaid fifteen thousand dollars to have her for the night, she agreed but she didn't keep to the bargain. Now her new boss is the same blue eyed man that paid for a night with her, the same man she left when he was in the bathroom barely an hour after their first round. But it's too late because he wants her again. Just a taste, and he's addicted. He won't let her go, not even when he is buried six feet under. He can't stop, he must have her after all he paid for a night. Obsession turns into attraction. Attraction turns into possession. Possession turns into pure madness. He refuses to let her go yet he is betrothed to another. Secrets, lies, betrayal, and anger drives their relationship towards madness as everything is turned upside. But then Leonardo's best quality was that he thrived in chaos, and even though he is betrothed he belonged to her. Body, mind, and fucking soul.