Sleep Tight

Blackmailed and caught in a very tight corner, James had no option but to do as Isaac had said– force the daughter to become his permanent mate else, he exposes James' secret. Lilith is a random not-so-weak member of the Blue Moon pack who has been overtaken by the love she had for her father that she had to agree to his impossible request so his life would be spared. What happens when Isaac finally knows who killed his father, will he be able to punish whoever this person was even if it was the person he trusted the most? " Who is my father ?" Isaac asked as he formed a fist with his hands. He didn't know how long he could control his wolf so it wouldn't cause havoc.

Dahil sa hirap ng buhay ay walang pagpipilian si Lucille kung hindi kumapit sa patalim. Kailangan niyang ipagamot ang nakababatang kapatid kung kaya’y pikit mata siyang pumayag sa isang kasunduan. She will spend the night and sleep with a rich and powerful man - Mr. Franco Delay Vega. Sa pagtapak niya sa Hotel kung saan sila magkikita ay abot-abot ang kaba niya. She doesn't know that a cunning and dangerous beast is impatiently waiting for her. Will Lucille find her escape or is she bound to a destiny beyond her control?

René Huang is a French-Chinese Painter who lives in France. He lives alone there when his parents are living in China. He is famous, rich, and handsome. Everything in his life was perfect until finally, unexpected events started happening in his life. He painted some paintings in his sleep, and there was a secret behind them. He wanted to find out the secret, and when he became a guest lecturer in an art university, he met a student who was related to the paintings. Their relationship was not good at first, but when they were investigating the paintings together, the romance started blooming. Note: This novel is inspired by my fanfiction that was posted on another platform. The idea and the story are mines. No plagiarism. Cover by MichelleLeeee

I put my t-shirt down, my hands shaking. I try to ignore them and stare at my reflection in the mirror. My hair color is dark brown and a vague hint of golden. My dad used to say that my eyes are ocean blue. A guy in my history cl once said that I had perfect s. Another guy said that I had a great body. They wanted to date me. And I dated few of them. I brush my fingers in my forehead. Then my dark, thick eyelashes. The side of my nose. My s. I run my hand at my neck, then across my collarbone. Am I beautiful? Honestly, I don't know. Maybe I'm not. "You were wrong, Angelina Valentine." A voice inside my head suddenly whispers. "Calm down, Angel," another voice whispers. It's the voice I loved. His voice is fading away. My hands start shake again, my breath rapidly quickening. I am losing control. I have to do something. "Goddammit!" I punch the mirror with my fist. It shatters into thousand pieces. My reflection has shattered into thousand pieces, too. The mirror now looks to me like an art. And my bloody knuckles. "I am sorry, Edwin. I can't promise you anymore, because you left me." I bite my to stop myself from crying. I won't cry. What's the point of crying? My sixth sense is suddenly alert. Somebody is watching me. I spin around. A guy is standing in front of the door, leaning against it. He wears a tight blue shirt, the sleeves folded. His black hair is ruffled and his hands are folded across his chest. The probable most amazing thing about him is his eyes. They are dark green. They are dangerous, beautiful and incredibly unreadable. And they are watching me.

“Are you sure that's the only thing you want? For me to fuck you until you can’t think of whatever that’s bothering you anymore?” He murmured against my throat and I nodded my head immediately, biting back a moan when he bit the side of my neck. “Yeah, that’s what I want.” I stuttered out a response as I tried to stop my heart beat from racing to no avail. ——— Nate is a smoking hot billionaire who was brought up to take over from his father, get a wife and produce grandchildren. But, Nate was completely gay and also closeted, which made him learn how to put out a facade for the limelight. Suddenly expected to get married to the daughter of his father’s friend– for the sake of the company, Nate got thrown in a tight, uncomfortable corner— not only because he wasn’t attracted to women at all, but because he had unexpectedly began to fall in love with a man, that shockingly turned out to be the older brother of the woman he was expected to get married to.

“Tyler Brooke, do you take Miss Becky Smith as your lawfully wedded wife?” “Yes, I do” I replied so firmly with a smile on my face. “And do you, Miss Becky Smith, do you take Tyler Brooke, as your lawfully wedded husband?” One minute, two, and some more minutes passed as she looked around. I wasn’t worried because i knew she had no choice, this wedding had to happen or she would lose everything. Becky's father asked her to get married to their gardener — a gardener she hired by herself to tend to the garden in her father's mansion. Of course, you wouldn't expect a classy woman like her, who has eyes for wealthy men, to accept a classless gardener as her husband, especially when she already has a fiancé. But what happens when her father uses her love for money against her by taking all her assets, putting her in a tight spot and leaving her with only one choice — to marry the poor gardener. What happens when she realizes that this poor gardener had a secret that could either make or destroy her marriage to him? She hates him, but he isn't ready to let her go. Will they be able to stand the test of time, or will they be overwhelmed by the dangers that lurked at every turn they took?

‘It’s not that there aren’t good people in the world. It’s that the bad ones are so much easier to find.’ A teen mother raises her daughter on a looping road trip, living hand-to-mouth in motel rest stops and backwater towns, stepping occasionally into the heat and chaos of the surrounding cities. A life without permanence, filled with terrors and joys, their stability is dependent on the strangers—and strange men—they meet along the way. But what is the difference between the love of a mother, and the love of a friend? And in a world with such blurred lines, where money is tight and there’s little outside influence, when does the need to survive slide into something more sinister? ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

At the age of twenty, I mated to my father's best friend, Lucian, the Alpha of Silverfang Pack despite our age difference. He was eight years older than me and was known in the pack as the cold-hearted King of Hell. He was ruthless in the pack and never got close to any she-wolves, but he was extremely gentle and sweet towards me. He would buy me the priceless Fangborn necklace the next day just because I casually said, "It looks good." When I curled up in bed in pain during my period, he would put aside Alpha councils and personally make pain suppressant for me, coaxing me to drink spoonful by spoonful. He would hug me tight when we mated, calling me "sweetheart" in a low and hoarse voice. He claimed I was so alluring that my body had him utterly addicted as if every curve were a narcotic he couldn't quit. He even named his most valuable antique Stormwolf Armour "For Elise". For years, I had believed it was to commemorate the melody I had played at the piano on our first encounter—the very tune that had sparked our love story. Until that day, I found an old photo album in his study. The album was full of photos of the same she-wolf. You wouldn’t believe this, but we looked like twin sisters! The she-wolf in one of the photos was playing the piano and smiling brightly. The back of the photo said, "For Elise." ... After discovering the truth, I immediately drafted a severance agreement to sever our mate bond. Since Lucian only cared about Elise, no way in hell I would be your Luna Alice anymore.

Every Thanksgiving, my husband, Salvatore, brings home a showgirl from one of his clubs. He makes me kneel and serve them drinks. A lesson, he calls it, in how to please a man. This was the eighth Thanksgiving, and this time, he brought back a girl poured into a tight leather dress. "She doesn't have any decent jewelry," Salvatore announced. "Give her your heirloom diamond ring. Your grandmother's pearl earrings, too. And take off that silk choker for her." He smirked. "And listen, she's young, doesn't know the rules. You'll have to show her the ropes. Especially how to handle a man in bed." Every member of the Genovese family was watching, waiting for my humiliation. I didn't disappoint. I opened my mouth and asked Salvatore for a divorce. Salvatore let out a sharp, ugly laugh, his eyes full of contempt. "Francesca, you pull this same shit every time," he jeered. "Your act is pathetic. Even more dramatic than your performance in bed." He leaned in. "You really want to divorce me? Fine. I'll give you five million in cash if you actually walk out that door." The living room erupted in laughter. They all said I was playing hard to get, that I didn't know my place. But they didn't know. This was the 88th time I had asked for a divorce, and it was the first time I truly meant it.

"How can I sleep with you?" a woman complained that Jordan wanted to sleep with her without touch each other. "I just need to recover from this strange disease," Jordan replied showing his reddish body and lots of small rashes from his scratches. "Are you an alien?" "I am a human." "Why do you have strange symptoms like that?" "I don't know. I will only recover if I sleep with a woman. " = = = Jordan Land, a boss of a company's international magazine. 30 years old, tall, and handsome too. Everything about him was perfect, but there were two things about Jo that made him hated by almost everyone who knew him. First, his grumpy nature, and his mysterious illness can only be cured if he sleeps with a woman. Until he found a girl who could cure simply by its presence alone makes Jordan heal slowly. Who's that girl?