Spicy Reads Novels & Stories

“You are not a prisoner, but you are my wife. You are officially a Davenport for the next six months, so act like one!” He warned me. “Fuck you.” I spat at him. “If you want my dick, all you have to do is strip and bend over the table. I might consider you and fuck you.” ………………….. THIS IS A SPICY AND DARK MAFIA ROMANCE BOOK. KILLIAN DAVENPORT IS UNHINGED!! R18. 185 days. That’s how long Aspen Vale must survive as the wife of Killian Davenport. The ruthless mafia lord who bought her freedom, only to cage her in his world of power, secrets, and sin. She was sold to him like property. Her father signed her life away for money, and Killian accepted not out of love, but obsession. She looks like the woman he once lost. And now he refuses to let her go. In Killian’s mansion, there are rules, cruel and unyielding rules. No lies. No defiance. No pregnancy. He doesn’t want a wife. He wants a ghost to worship, a memory to control. But Aspen isn’t made to be broken. The more he tries to destroy her, the more she burns beneath his touch. She tells herself she’ll endure him for 185 days—then escape. But monsters like Killian don’t set their prey free. And the most dangerous part of all? She’s no longer sure she wants him to.

In a world where Werewolves, Vampires and other mythological creatures have evolved to not only fit in with the human world, but to run it, a young witch, raised by an erratic coven of witches finds herself an important pawn in a war that began centuries before her birth. Prudence Skov, Rue to her friends, Styria to her enemies, is charged with a mission that will most likely end in her death, but it would be the steppingstone her coven needs to turn the tide of this war in their favor, getting them one step closer to righting all that is wrong with this new world of drug dealing werewolves, business mogul vampires and the disgusting practice of human trafficking. Humans, who once fought each other to end slavery, ended back up on the bottom of the food chain when their predators, though outnumbered had learned how to blend in. Rue, ready to do whatever it takes to keep herself and her brother safe, knows that being sold into the employ of Phoenix Arizona's most eligible werewolf bachelor is necessary in accomplishing that. But when a wedge is thrown in her plans, her world balances on a precarious edge that naivety had once shielded her from. Will she take the beating of these men who think they own everything and accept her role as a pawn? Or does she have it in her to take control of her destiny, to rise from the ashes of her past and come back stronger than ever? Chaos, love, pain, loss, spicy secrets and more await you in this thrilling story of myths and dangers.

After my wife, Shannon Stewart, suggests that we each support our own parents, I set up a million-dollar retirement fund for my dad. However, when I review this month's household expenses, I notice that every single payment is made for the father of Sean Gardner, her childhood friend. "Sean's family is struggling. Why wouldn't I help them out? It's not like it's a lot of money." Shannon brushes it off. There are 13 separate expenses of around 100 dollars each in a single month. Yet when my dad needs 300 for medical bills, she prints out the receipt and tells me to reimburse the household account. Tired of arguing, I toss the statement aside and head inside. Then my dad's condition suddenly worsens, and he's hospitalized again. I rush to the bank to withdraw money from the retirement fund. "Your father isn't the beneficiary of this fund," the bank employee states coldly. "Are you sure you have the right account?" My mind goes blank. How is that possible? Every cent in that account is my hard-earned cash. The employee impatiently turns the computer monitor toward me. The account name on the screen clearly reads, "James Gardner's Retirement Fund." James is Sean's dad.

At my mom's funeral, my lecturer wife, Vivian Carter, decides to have a rendezvous with her student, Noah Myers, with ten packs of condoms in her bag. Once they are done with their passionate lovemaking, Noah uploads a photo to his social media feed. It features a red-faced Vivian lying on his bed. Meanwhile, the clothes of mourning that she's worn to the funeral are strewn all over the floor. The caption reads, "The only who's not loved is the actual homewrecker here. My relationship has finally borne fruit!" His feed goes wild with comments. Everyone mocks me for being a shameless simp for Vivian, and that I've been ruining Noah's relationship with her this whole time. My mentor, Avery Sanders, is sick with worry. But I, on the other hand, merely brew myself a cup of coffee. Then, I say lightly, "Since he likes uploading his intimate photos that much, I might as well upload photos of his and Vivian's bastard child as well as their paternity tests. Here's the caption—I, the legal husband, am now defending my pride as a married man. "Now, I'd like to see if Noah and Vivian are capable of bearing the consequences of pissing off my prestigious and wealthy family!"

Right after I am done with a meeting, I scroll through social media and come across a warning post with my company's location tagged. The title reads, "Avoid this place! Anyone who comes here is a sucker. The company is so stingy that it can't even provide decent snacks." The photos show the Starbucks drinks and five-star desserts I just asked my assistant to distribute to everyone. I frown and tag everyone in the group chat, asking for suggestions about the teatime snacks. A Gen Z intern, Alice Grimes, immediately sends a voice message, "No offense, Ms. Knox, but these mass-produced desserts are full of trans fats. Even dogs wouldn't eat them. A good company would hire Kitchelin chefs to cook on-site. Now that's called having true respect for employees." I laugh in disbelief. My company spends 50 dollars per person on daily tea time, which is considered top-tier in the industry. So, I reply, "Since it's hard to please everyone, we'll cancel teatime from now on and convert it into a cash allowance for everyone." Less than five minutes later, there is a new update in the social media post. "Guys, you won't believe this. I made a reasonable suggestion, and the petty boss just cut our teatime perk! This is how a typical capitalist behaves. They can't handle any honest feedback."

A young psychologist, Maria Reyes, fresh out of college, decides to take her first freelance case to build her résumé. Feeling bold and free on her graduation night, she let herself loose after getting charmed by an alluring mysterious man. One drink leads to another and another, and she finds herself drowning in passion in his bed. She reads him like a map and falls for his scars before she even asks for his name. But the morning brings the brutal truth, Darian Wolfe is her father's enemy, a ruthless businessman, an heir to the empire sworn to destroy her father's legacy. She vanishes before he wakes, unable to face what has been done. Weeks later after being able to set up her new office, the past begins to blur until her first patient walks through the door. It's him, Darian Wolfe. Her expression freezes when she sees him. He walks around her office uninvited. He takes a seat without a word. The silence between them is thick with everything unsaid. And then, he looks unblinking in her eyes. "I have a lot to... unpack, Dr Reyes," he says, with a dark smile. "Let's start with a woman I met two weeks ago at a bar," he says, pulling out a red panty from his pocket.

Before taking over the next shift, I receive a huge amount of money from my work buddy, George Rowland. He has given me ten thousand dollars in total, and the remark on the transfer notes that it's the payment for the morning shift I've taken for him. "Hey Wilbur, I'm going back to my hometown and enjoy my new retired life. Have fun dealing with the night shift at the control room by yourself. "When I was patrolling the apartment yesterday, I got my hands on treasure that came out of nowhere. Now that I'm rich, I no longer have to deal with the residents anymore." With a grin, I curse George out for being unusually lucky. That guy is so stingy that he refuses to even buy himself a bottle of mineral water that's worth two dollars. To think that he actually struck the jackpot this time! I accept the money happily, thinking that I should take my younger sister out for a nice dinner once I get off work. Ten minutes later, George sends the clock-off photo of him handing the shift over to me on the work chat as usual. His caption reads, "I've gone through my final shift properly." The moment I make out the photo, I feel the hairs on my back rising. "Hello? Is this the police? A murder has taken place in Riverside Residences!"

Kendrick Fisher, the worst student in class, has worked extremely hard and ended up getting into a prestigious college just for my sake. But I choose to break up with him at that very moment. I cling to the arm of Daniel Ziegler, the best student in class, as I mock Kendrick relentlessly in a high and mighty manner. "It's not that I look down on you, Kendrick. The thing is, your family has gone broke. Right now, you don't even have a single penny in your pocket. "On top of that, you also have a heart disease, which means you can't live for more than three months. What makes you think we can stay together, hmm?" With a pallid face, Kendrick parts his lips, but he ends up fainting from the pain while listening to my mocking laughter. Four years later, I curl up on the floor in a factory's dormitory while munching on a stale sandwich and scrolling through the news. It turns out that the AI company founded by Kendrick will be going public soon, and it's already worth ten billion dollars. Meanwhile, Daniel is currently using my identity to apply for online loans just so he can continue gambling in Mireholm. Everyone is waiting to watch the spicy drama of Kendrick getting his revenge on me. Thank goodness I've already died by then. When Kendrick makes a glorious comeback by having his convoy drive into the city, my artificial heart has already stopped beating. Unfortunately, his afterparty and my wake are held in the same hotel on the very same day…

Thanks to the paparazzi sneakily taking a photo of Caitlin Randall in her swimwear, she's been rated as the most perfect woman in Lunbury for seven years in a row. Countless men who wish to bed her can line up to the moon and back. The thing is, everyone knows that Caitlin only favors me, the deaf man who stays by her side all the time. When I was 18, I blew out my eardrums when I was saving Caitlin from danger. Since then, I can no longer hear the sounds and voices coming from the external world. Whenever we're passionately entangled with each other in bed, Caitlin will always kiss my ears with red-rimmed eyes. But I can never hear what she tells me every time. That is, until the night of Caitlin's birthday, when she blindfolds me and tells me that she wants to play a game. That's when I can finally hear her voice. "Let's play something spicy, Terry." Caitlin ties me up and convinces me to drink some alcohol. When the lashing heat pooling in my gut threatens to break me down, I'm so close to telling the truth to Caitlin—that my hearing is restored. "Ms. Randall, the people and the tools are ready. Are you sure you want to do this to Mr. Boyer?" When I hear the robotic voice coming from Caitlin's earpiece, I freeze up immediately. But at that moment, she has already injected me with a dose of sedatives. "Be a good boy, Terry. Everything will still be fine when you're asleep."

I wasn’t even pregnant, yet I ended up popping abortion pills like they were candy. It was all because in my past life, the moment my widowed sister-in-law got pregnant, every single side effect of her pregnancy became mine. She strutted around happily with her big belly, consuming spicy tamales, while I was rushed to the hospital for violent nausea and stomach pain; she showed off her flawless skin in crop tops every day, while my stomach broke out in hideous stretch marks. When I told my husband what was happening, he just shoved me away impatiently. “Enough with the jealousy! My brother’s dead, and she’s carrying his only child. Of course, I should look out for her. Do you really have to put on such an act?” After that, my sister-in-law went even further. She kept testing her limits during pregnancy and even ate a mango she was allergic to. And me? I went into anaphylactic shock, landed in the hospital, and nearly died. Doctors couldn’t explain it. They just brushed it off, saying I was overly jealous and it was all psychological. Later, my sister-in-law tried to brand herself as a “hot single mom”. She went live, belly and all, to show off her weight-loss workouts. She jumped around for three straight hours. And me? My uterus literally gave out, and I hemorrhaged to death. When I opened my eyes again, it was the exact day she first announced her pregnancy.