Six O'clock

Zoe lost her husband in cold blood. Worse, she watched them do it even though she couldn't see their faces. Six months later, her mother gets her into an arranged marriage with Avery Trent, a very handsome billionaire. There's a catch though; Avery suffers from dissociative identity disorder and it is her duty to join in keeping the secret from the public. When Zoe walks into the Trent family, things begin to change and get ugly as well. Why was she falling madly in love with Avery just six months after her ex husband's death? Why were her new family getting death scares and how will she handle the fact that it all had to do with her ex husband's death six months ago?

For six years, Zara Grey has lived under a curse she doesn’t understand. Six times, fate has given her a mate—only for each one to reject her and mysteriously vanish without a trace. Marked as unwanted, whispered about in every pack, she has steeled herself against hope. But when Kael Draven, the ruthless Lycan King, claims her as his mate, everything changes.

Shhhh... it's Santa O'clock They say Christmas is the season to give, to spread love, to reunite with loved ones, to have a full bunch of wishlists fulfilled by Santa, but has anyone ever stopped to think if Santa too has a wishlist begging to be fulfilled, huh? You bunch of greedy ass! *********** BLURB: The Christmas season came knocking on the door of Nelly Moore, a young lady who was in a complicated relationship with her boyfriend. Ever since her inability to be sexually stimulated, her ever-sweet relationship was hitting rock bottom. Dying to get a solution, she accepted a crazy, steamy Christmas vacation contest being hosted by a game lord in Costa Rica. Unfortunately, the Christmas miracle she expected wasn't exactly what she got. She found herself entangled in a lustful affair with the vacation's host—the game lord himself, a man old enough to be her father. And to make the situation more twisted, he doesn't believe in love; he only views humans as being bound by lust and nothing more, which brought a clash of perspectives, since Nelly, the lover girl, believes love exists. The whole ordeal started with a provocative question: "Will you be Santa's prize and fulfil his wishlist?" ********* Grab a cup of coffee and make sure you have a guy next door to grab while you slide into chapter one to dive into this thrilling, steamy Christmas story. (strictly:18+).

The two characters that hardly knew each other's gets involved in a marriage arranged by their elders. Living together everyday as strangers forever was a problem to both. But Zeren was giving all her best to the marriage whereas Tariq had planned the divorce. The twist comes when divorce is accepted only after six months of marriage. What would happen in these six months before that divorce? Read to find out more

Six years ago, Scarlett Langston kidnapped Jonathan Leonard to obtain the one thing she needed from him—a sperm donation. After that night, she vanished. Six years later, Scarlett is a world-renowned attorney. With her son, she returns to her motherland, but only to land in Jonathan’s crosshairs. She racks her brain for some way to escape, but he pursues her at all costs. Who will emerge the victor in this battle of love? And who the loser?

After the disappearance of her father, Julia Rocco, who was drowning her sorrows in alcohol on her last day in college ends up having a one night stand with Alonzo Luigi, the man she never knew she’d been betrothed to. Their passionate one-night stand takes a sinister turn when Alonzo accuses Julia of stealing something from him during their brief encounter and Julia admits it, knowing she’d be tortured if she attempted to prove her innocence. Now the clock is ticking. Would Julia be able to materialize what Alonzo lost in a few weeks or would Alonzo’s buried past come back to bite them first?

Six years ago, a corporate acquisition deal I handled went up in flames, and 50 billion dollars vanished into thin air. Bankrupt investors spray red paint all over my front door for a year straight. Dad died from a stroke, and Mom lost her mind and disappeared. I ended up doing six years in prison for embezzlement. After I got out, I changed my name and started delivering food in downtown, running myself ragged for a few bucks per delivery. But then my ex-wife, Shirley Pearce, showed up, and the entire delivery station ground to a halt. She had become a financial powerhouse, a regular on the covers of business magazines. Reporters blocked my delivery scooter, shoving microphones in my face. "Mr. Marcus Quinn, Ms. Pearce has been single for six years, paid off all your debts, and she's been waiting for you to come home!" I stared at that perfectly made-up woman with her adoring eyes and felt nothing but disgust. That so-called "devoted" ex-wife of mine? Six years ago, she had forged company seals to help her boy toy short the stock market. Then, when everything fell apart, she threw me under the bus to save herself.

Six years after donating my heart to my wife, she destroyed the last of my family. Over those six years, she ended my mother’s treatment, letting her die slowly in agony. She deliberately caused a car accident that shattered my father’s spine, forcing him to watch my mother die while trapped in a paralyzed body. Even our daughter was not spared—locked away in a pitch-black basement, she starved to death alone. She did all of this for one reason: to force me—the heartless, faithless man she believed I was—to reveal myself. But during those six years, the love I once had for her turned into boundless hatred. I refused to let my soul dissipate. I stayed—waiting for the day she would learn the truth, and collapse under the weight of her regret.

During a long holiday, my husband booked flights for a family vacation. On the way to the airport, I suddenly saw numbers appearing on everyone’s head. The numbers on my husband’s head indicated sixty years, but my parents and I had only six hours indicated on our heads. While I was puzzled over the meaning of those numbers, I noticed that the driver next to us only had six seconds indicated over his head through the car window. Five… Four… Three… Two… One. When the number turned zero, a massive truck immediately rammed into the car next to us. I saw flickers of fire, flesh and blood exploding before my eyes. People were screaming for help, but I could not hear anything. I trembled as cold sweat drenched my entire body. It was because my flight would be taking off in six hours.

On New Year's Eve, I prepare a feast. The clock strikes twelve, but my husband, Vincent Porter, still isn't home. My daughter, Lorelei Porter, tugs at my sleeve and holds up my phone. "Look Mommy, Daddy is at this lady's house!" Vincent has posted an update on Twitter. He is with Christine Snow, his childhood sweetheart. They are smiling at the camera, with a boy who looks about ten standing between them. In front of them sits a swan-shaped cake. The caption reads, "The most special day for the most special you." My heart sinks into my stomach. A marriage that came later in life can never compete with a pair of childhood sweethearts. I accept defeat.