Sometimes People Die

The day Eve Jones came back to town, Zac Gibson did not come home all night. The next day, I saw a post on her social media, showing a photo of two hands tightly intertwined, along with Zac’s peaceful, childlike sleeping face. When he finally came home, he threw divorce papers at me and said, "You’ve been standing in Eve’s place this whole time. Now that she’s back, it’s time for you to move on." It did not matter anymore. I was not going to live much longer anyway. Whoever wanted the title of "Mrs. Gibson" could have it. Later, I died. But Zac cried at my grave, kneeling, promising he would never hold anyone else’s hand again.

My boyfriend Julian is a chess grandmaster, a genius. At sixteen, he became the youngest grandmaster in North American history. I gave him ten years of my life, but a ring was never on the table. But when he reached the pinnacle of his career and won the Grand Slam, he still refused to break the pact he'd made with his family about his career. "According to my plan, I'm not considering marriage or any other form of long-term commitment until all my goals are achieved." I didn't argue with him. I quietly packed his luggage for the World Championship and wished him the best. He had no idea that at the very moment he was lifting the championship trophy with the world watching, I was dragging my failing body to sign my own name on a euthanasia consent form.

One week after my death, my husband, Christopher Ford, was making love on our bed with his one true love. His face showed pure satisfaction. "Finally, I don’t have to deal with that bar hostess anymore." Later, he held my belongings, weeping with regret. "Phoebe, why haven’t you come back?" It seemed he had forgotten that he had already pushed me to my death that night. I was forced to donate my bone marrow to his one true love, and I died, along with our unborn child.

I spent a year starving for a man who wouldn't touch me. Then his father and brother decided to feast. Rob called me a slut when I begged him to fuck me. Made me feel worthless for craving his hands on my body. Then he let another woman suck his cock right in front of me—and told me she did it better. I should have left. But I followed him to his family's private island in Italy instead. That's where I met them. Victor Marchetti. Rob's father. Silver hair, ice-blue eyes, and a body built for sin. He looked at me like he wanted to devour me whole. When his hand touched the small of my back, I felt it between my thighs. Dante. The older brother. Dark, dangerous, and built like he could break me apart with his bare hands. One look from those black eyes and I was wet. One word from that deep voice and I was ready to drop to my knees. I tried to resist. Tried to remember I had a boyfriend sleeping down the hall. But they hunted me. Cornered me. Made me admit what my body had been screaming for. When they finally took me—both of them, at the same time, claiming every hole, every sound, every desperate whimper—I understood what I'd been missing. Victor's hand around my throat while Dante buried himself so deep I couldn't breathe. Two men who didn't just want me. They needed me. Owned me. Ruined me for anyone else. Rob made me beg for scraps. His father and brother made me scream their names.

A rogue and a runt. A born and raised alpha. A boy with a secret. And a man bent on changing fate, no matter who gets harmed. ~ "Have you contacted the council about the rogues?" "Yes and they say that rogues don't band together in mass amounts." "Did you tell them about the lack of scents?" I roll my eyes at his question. "Of course I did." "And?" "And they think there's a witch out there causing havoc for the rogues," I scoff. "They said that only a witch could hide a wolf's scent but I can't seem to think of what witch would be out there doing silly experiments that won't benefit them. They'd be better off working with a pack if they had any interest there at all." "I get where they're coming from but this is mass reports across the country," he says pointing to the map. "I've been on the phone with packs all over the country having the same issues. We seem to have a higher concentration as of late," he furrows his brows. "Other packs have been having decreases of these rogues?" He nods. "This past week alone we've had six sightings and it's only Thursday." I feel tension rise behind my eyes as the realization hit me. "It's Celeste, isn't it. . ." (rewrite of Innocent Little Runt

**Sequel to The Billion Dollar Love Triangle. Strongly suggest that is read first!** Just when Scarlett Watson thinks she's finally got her life together, she finds out she's pregnant and she doesn't know if the baby is Grayson Wrenford's or Lee Windsor's. Thinking she'll simply be with whichever man fathered her child, Scarlett is thrown for a loop when the paternity only makes things more complicated. Being deeply in love with both men and still having to pick one, the three of them navigate the ups and downs of pregnancy, their messy families, and discovering their true selves, all before Scarlett gives birth. When the time comes, will Scarlett actually be able to decide who she wants to be with, will she lose them both, or will someone else win her heart?

After catching her boyfriend cheating with her best friend, Abby Hale spends one reckless night with a stranger, only to discover the next morning that he’s her new boss. But the stranger wasn’t actually who she thought, it was his twin brother. Landon and Liam Lancaster have hated each other their whole lives, but Abby becomes the one thing they both want. What starts as a dangerous triangle quickly spirals into obsession, jealousy, and sabotage. Now Abby must decide between two brothers who would do anything for her, or admit the truth she’s afraid to face: she might want them both.

Rachel gave everything to her husband. Her love. Her kidney. Her silence and her all. So when she finally regained her hearing, she never expected the first thing she’d hear would be her husband’s betrayal Nathan, tangled in another woman’s arms, calling her a burden he was tired of carrying. That night, Rachel walked out with nothing but a broken heart and a body already marked as sacrifice. Nathan thought that was the end of her story, but he was wrong. Years later, Rachel returns not as the woman he discarded, but as Belira Williams, the hidden heiress of DroneCode, the most powerful tech empire in the world. Richer, colder, and untouchable. This time, she isn’t here to beg for any reason. She’s here to ruin him for good. With secrets sharp enough to destroy reputations and a past Nathan never bothered to uncover, Rachel begins her revenge, slow, deliberate, and merciless. He once called her useless, now she’s the woman standing between him and everything he thought he owned. And this time… she’s not leaving quietly.

Dans une ville où le temps semble s’effriter comme la cendre, Naïa, une restauratrice d’œuvres d’art, découvre une légende oubliée : celle d’un amour brisé par la malédiction d’un bijou ancien, une obsidienne aussi noire que la nuit. Au fil de ses recherches, elle croise le chemin de Raven, un homme à la beauté étrange et aux yeux hantés. Il prétend être le dernier descendant d’une lignée maudite. Chaque femme qu’il aime finit par mourir, sa vie aspirée par l’obsidienne. Naïa n’y croit pas… jusqu’à ce qu’elle commence à ressentir d’étranges symptômes : des vertiges, des visions d’un passé qui n’est pas le sien, et une douleur glaciale à chaque fois que Raven s’approche. Leur passion est irrépressible, mais à chaque baiser, elle sent une part d’elle-même s’effacer. Raven tente de fuir, de la repousser, mais Naïa s’accroche. Elle découvre alors que la seule façon de briser la malédiction est de plonger dans les souvenirs d’une époque révolue, où tout a commencé : une ancienne trahison, un amour sacrifié, une vengeance gravée dans la pierre noire. Mais la malédiction a un prix. Pour se libérer, quelqu’un doit disparaître… L’amour peut-il survivre à l’oubli ?

I am the daughter of the Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack, my parents are very rich, but I have nothing. When black magic was eating away at me with a month to live, I asked to borrow ten dollars and they said I was "not worthy." I dragged my sickly body to buy the cheapest herbal medicine, but I saw them spending billions of dollars to celebrate my foster sister Vivian's 18th birthday. Tears streamed down my face, I just wanted to spend ten dollars on a piece of fabric and make my own ceremonial robe, even though I wouldn't live to be eighteen.