Spit Swapping

"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?

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.

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.

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.

Wendy Jenkins never imagined she'd end up as a surrogate for a cold, powerful billionaire, but when her family falls into crippling debt, she steps up to save them. Swapping places with her stepsister, Wendy finds herself at the exclusive Brilliant Hotel, ready to meet Michael Carter, a ruthless man with no interest in her beyond a business deal. Wendy feels humiliated by Michael's harsh words and rejection before she even has a chance to prove herself. He plays with her emotions, showing no kindness, but Wendy refuses to give up, her courage seems to catch Michael's attention, and what started as a cruel game changes when a heated argument suddenly leads to a surprising kiss, leaving Wendy shocked and confused. As Wendy deals with Michael’s cruelty, she gets pulled deeper into a world of betrayal, lies, and secrets by her family’s future as her own heart are at risk. Can she handle Michael's torment long enough to secure the deal that could save her family, or will she lose everything to a man who might never be able to love her? In this dangerous game of love and betrayal, nothing is clear and no one can be trusted.

We all have an inspiration to live. We all have that one person who keeps us from fighting and moving. That someone who keeps our heart beating. That someone who keeps on giving us a blissful morning. But what if one morning while laying in the dark, the person you loved the most is the person you can't remember anymore? Fall Navarez never thought that this day would come. Never did he think of losing the memories of that someone in his head. Later did he realize, he came up with a question: "Who's Grace?" There's a lot of variations in their testimonies. Some have scarlet threads attached. Some had loose strings which means a dead end. Fall Navarez didn't know what story he had to believe. He wanted to believe them all, but every person he asked, died the day after. "Grace is your girlfriend, Fall." "Hell no! Grace is your wife." "That would be gross, but I only know was that Grace is your sister." "Oh my God, you really don't know, do you? Grace is your f*ckin' psychologist!" Why would Fall had a psychologist, assuming that Grace is indeed one? "You're hell-bent, Fall! You're crazy!" "Who's Grace?! Answer now or I'll f*cking kill you!" He smirked. "As you did to your mother?" he held his tongue and spit saliva at Fall. "Hell yeah! YOU KILLED YOUR F*CKING MOTHER!" Maybe there's someone who's deceiving. Maybe someone had asked them to deceive Fall! But wait, where was the lie? To the you-killed-Grace part or the Grace-is-your-mother part? Hmm, did Grace really fall from grace? "Put the gun in your mouth. . . pull the trigger." FALL FROM GRACE by ANONYGLITCH

The first born son of the Laird to the largest clan on the boarder is one of three identical triplets. But nobody really knows which one was born first! So who will rule? The king will decide. Or will he? To keep peace in the highlands and unite the boarder lands the king feels all three men must have a clan to rule. Since all three are unwed, he chooses brides for them that will result in each of the triplets having a clan to rule and a wife to create heirs with. Assuming the laird named his first son after himself, the king weds Griogair to the second daughter of the clan to the west. He and Eliana would stay on MacInnis land, uniting it through marriage with the MacDonald clan that stretched from their boarder to the west coast. He wed the remaining brothers to clans that had only women as direct heirs. Padraig to the widow Fraiser and Alasdair to the young Isobel whose father owned the land on the east coast. But the men have other ideas. This is a game the men have played since they were small. Padraig tosses a silver coin and his brother's nod, instantly swapping identities as smoothly as taking a step. Will anyone notice they have each chosen their own wife? Just as nobody knows which son was first born, few can tell them apart. Certainly not the emissary or clergy sent by the king! But when the truth comes to light, will it all unravel?

“I won’t reject you. You’re going to be useful, rogue,” he murmured, his voice dangerously soft. “One way or another.” Before I could spit out a retort, his hand shot out and grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “I’m gonna let you live in my pack for the sake of my pack, I need a heir and you will do well as my breeder”, The words hit me like a slap, cold and biting. As a breeder?!. The way he said it. THE ALPHA’S ROGUE MATE