Spit Swapping

My father is the First Warrior of the Moonflash pack. He often takes me to all kinds of banquets, and I always look forward to them. Today, he brings me to a banquet hosted by Judy. I take a bite of raw meat on my plate and immediately spit it out. I once ate raw meat when I was younger, and my stomach hurt for several days. I nearly died. The healer later told me that I'm allergic to the protein in raw meat, and that experience left a lasting impression on me. Judy looks hurt when she sees my reaction. "I went to the forest myself to catch that reindeer," she says. "I killed it just this morning. I didn't cook it so that I wouldn't ruin its freshness. I didn't expect Ray would turn her nose up at it." Dad is angry about how rude I am, so he chases me out of the banquet and locks me up in a cramped lounge. The lounge is hot and stuffy, and I soon start finding it hard to breathe. A sharp pain twists in my stomach like a knife. I want to find Dad, but no matter how much I bang on the door, he refuses to open it. Through the window, I can see Dad and Judy standing in the center of the hall. They're conversing happily, but no one even looks in my direction. I'm suffocating, so I lie on the floor. I want to shout for Dad, but I can't make a sound no matter how hard I try. Then, I realize that I'm standing up and can walk through the door. But why is my body still lying on the floor? That's when it hits me. I'm dead.

“Farewell to you who never deserved the love I gave. I want you to suffer as I did, to feel the pain as if they were your own; every agonizing second of it.” I smirk as my throat stings, coughing up more blood. Tears streamed down his bloodshot eyes, a satisfaction I never expected I’d feel at my dying moments.  “N-no! I’m sorry, please . . . please don’t leave me!” he held me close to his trembling chest, his sobs reverberating through the air — the last I breathed in before I gave in to death’s arms. Or so I thought.  In a world of power and love, Morana Everette, the Luna of the Dark Moon Pack, basks in a life of perfection until fate intervenes. Her husband's true fated woman emerges, shattering her idyllic  existence and casting her aside. In a final act of sacrifice and a dying curse, she finds herself swapping bodies with her husband, and with his emotions still intact, she is forced to experience the attraction towards the girl who ruined her life. While Logan experiences the agony she once endured in her past. As deities continue to play with their destinies, emotions run high, loyalties are tested, and the cruel game of switch unfolds. Can they break free from this cycle of misery, or will they forever be bound by fate's twisted design? *** The novel is Written by Dinni Dee and By Miss Joye's Outline. The novel is copyrighted by Ideaink Six Cats.

By the fifth year of my marriage to Noah Lester, everyone insisted that I, Emma Newman, was his eternal muse. But I knew the truth. Behind my back, Noah cycled through a parade of fresh-faced, eager lovers. He even flaunted them at social gatherings, swapping one for another with shameless ease. When friends teased him—"Didn’t you swear Emma was the love of your life? Why the revolving door of mistresses?"—he’d just laugh, arms slung around his latest conquests. "Once you’ve caught your muse the glow fades. Give me someone new and tender any day—at least they keep things exciting." So I began plotting my escape. What Noah never realized was that I had grown tired of him, too. Tired of this life, of these performances. I was done.

"Silvia Ironwolf, for your crime of murder, you will be forever banished from the Packs," Omega Rovit intoned. Another humiliation. To have my fate read out to me by the lowliest member of the Ironwolf Pack while all the others turned their backs. Rovit was loving it. He had worshipped Jedan. He leaned forward, his face close to mine, his spit landing on my face, "And if you ever return to the Wildlands," he finished, "You will be torn limb from limb, your remains fed to the vultures." If my hands had not been bound by the leather mitts, shackled together with silver, I would have ripped his sneering face from his skull and fed that to the vultures. My nails scraped against the soft leather interior of the mitts. My iron nails. The pack guardsmen blunted many tools before giving up on removing the iron from my fingertips. The iron was part of me now. They said that Jedan was barely recognizable when they found him. They said that the iron was a curse that had been bred out of the pack centuries ago. They said that it was my curse that killed Jedan, future Alpha of Firewolf. It was Jedan's inability to understand 'No' that killed him. Now I will be punished. Banished forever from my pack, from the Wildlands. From my love, Vuko. The brother of the man I have slain. * Four years later and the Wildlands packs face a grave threat to their existence. Vuko, the reluctant Alpha of Firewolf, believes they need Silvia if they have any chance of survival. *He* needs Silvia. Will Vuko find Silvia? Will Silvia forgive the packs for the injustice done to her? Is she truly cursed? Are Vuko and Silvia destined for each other?

John Handful’s first client is a member of the local Polish community wanted by the police for the disappearance of his pregnant wife. A new miracle cancer drug is stolen from a pharmaceutical complex located on a shingle spit, just off the Suffolk coast. A wealthy local financier is blackmailed, and a ripple of malice spreads across the village of Oxmarket. Each household of a cul-de-sac have a secret that could point to them being the murderer of a man found shot dead in his bedroom.A perplexing case unfolds with the revelation of secret lovers, flowers from the garden and a death that is not as it appears.John Handful finds himself enmeshed in a violent, multi-layered plot at a luxury hotel on a remote island. A man kills himself despite receiving the good news that his lover’s husband has agreed to a divorce.A woman is witnessed shooting herself by her husband even though she had already been dead several hours.A man has been found shot through the head in a locked room with suicide well and truly ruled out. How did he die?Severed limbs in a concrete block, leads, John Handful to believe that a cold calculated killer with a thirst for revenge is on the loose. Ten cases, one connection. What is it?

Emperor Dijon's decision to bring in the stray woman from the streets of his newly conquered kingdom is as baffling to his Generals as it is to him. He intends for the whole experience to be a mere entertainment, a distraction from the many travails of his campaign through the desert but the little woman turns out to be a spit fire, one that he finds difficult to handle, yet she intrigues him. She fascinates him as much as she infuriates him, yet there is something even she cannot see, he recognizes the hunger in her eyes, the urge to destroy, conquer. They might have more in common than she actually thinks.

After dying suddenly from overwork, I found myself transmigrated into the life of a fake heiress who had been cast out of her wealthy family. While the real heiress reclaimed the life that had once been mine, I decided to leave the drama behind. Armed with my savings, I embraced a carefree lifestyle, swapping boyfriends every three days and living for the moment. Then, two months later, life hit me with a curveball—I discovered I was pregnant. The problem? I had no idea who the father was. With no choice, I approached the three powerful CEOs I had been involved with, each more arrogant and competitive than the last. What followed was a 10-billion-dollar bet by each of the three over who the father might be, with me caught in the middle. "I bet the baby belongs to all three of you," I teased, only for them to roll their eyes and dismiss me as ridiculous. Even so, when I gave birth to triplets, their argument outside the delivery room went viral, sending the internet into a frenzy and turning my life—and theirs—into a spectacle.

Shivering, I sobbed out, unable to speak, unable to move. "Shh, shh, now baby-girl, it's alright, you're safe, don't cry" he soothed, moving closer to me. "N-Noah, I w-want to go home," I sobbed, feeling weak from my inability to talk without stuttering. A gasp left my parted lips as his hand forcefully connected with my cheek, "You are home, so I don't want to hear that crap from you, okay?" shaking, I looked down at my feet, his gaze too menacing to hold. "I said, do you understand" he spit through clenched teeth, "y-yes, I'm sorry" I whispered, a new wave of tears making their appearance. "Good girl, now I need you to keep being a good girl, okay?" nodding, my eyes met his dark ones. His form towered over me, making me feel small and irrelevant. "Words, Embry!" He demanded as I stuttered out a quiet yes. I studied him cautiously as he walked towards the far end of the room, shuffling through drawers before stalking back towards me and crouching down. I sucked in a breath as I saw the knife in his hand, his face held a mischievous grin as it glinted in the light. "Now baby-girl, you see, as much as I hate to, you need to be punished, do you know why?" Warning! This story is for mature audience, it contains strong language, abuse, mature themes and sensitive topics. ___ He was her rock, her best friend, her first love. He became her worst nightmare, her tormentor, her captor She was his everything. His obsession. Their story should have ended with that court case, but he's found a way back to her, and he won't give her another opportunity to escape. Not this time.

Aditi and West hate each other. They bicker, they flirt, and are possibly a little in love. Blotching the hot new guy's shirt with chocolate-mixed spit is probably not the best idea of a revenge, but Aditi soon discovers that she doesn't regret it one bit. Because despite being a jerk, West too knows what it's like to be brown, Muslim and falling apart in an all-white high school, and when he gets entangled in Aditi's struggle to tackle a debilitating trauma and a really, really loud Bangladeshi wedding, the fledgeling love-hate relationship will leave her either healed or heartbroken. Or pretty dead, because an outbreak of crimes is gripping her quaint little town in fear, and the gorgeous flirt she's falling for has his fair share of ugly secrets. -

“Yes. Skirts are adorable but if you fucking wear one and start acting innocent on purpose, I will not hesitate to bend over my lap and finger you until you cannot breathe. You wanna expose what’s mine? Watch me fucking take it!" In a moment of intense anger, his words spit fire, and she trembles, fearing for her life. His grip around her neck tightens, but then, unexpectedly, it loosens. His eyes soften, and he pulls her into a tight embrace, wrapping his arms around her delicate frame.