Spoiling Myself

Queenie Livingston, my best friend whom I have cared for over the years, gives me a bottle of perfume. I immediately turn around and pour its contents down the toilet. In my previous life, that perfume made me sprout hair all over my body and reek. I was shunned by my colleagues, and my then-boyfriend and superior, Preston Zimmerman, wasted no time in dumping me and hooking up with Queenie. I desperately sought medical treatment back then, but with nowhere left to turn, I died in utter agony and despair. Only after my death did I learn that the grotesque condition was caused by the perfume Queenie had maliciously tampered with. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the exact day Queenie gave me the perfume.

A particularly dark tale. Not for the faint of heart. He was the all-powerful Magistrate Mathis. The man that accused the witches and then found them guilty in the dungeons of WitchFall Fortress. I had feared ever being one of them, but not enough to be dissuaded from figuring out why he didn't seem to be what he was. So I followed him into the woods one day and discovered the one secret he was willing to wreak havoc to keep. The secret he'd make me pay for ever knowing. And if he couldn't have me on my terms, well he was certainly powerful enough to find a way, wasn't he? The most horrible kind of way... Barely understanding what was happening, I soon found myself in the worst place I could possibly be. Under his complete control...

At a dinner party, my genius painter of a husband, Henry Shepherd, used his hands, hands insured for millions, to shell crabs for his young assistant, Tamara Lee. This was all to coax her into eating a few bites when she claimed she had no appetite. Meanwhile, I drank myself into a bloody mess, trying to secure investments for him. When I asked him to hand me some antacids, he refused without even looking up. “These hands are for painting. Use your own.” For ten years, he couldn’t even be bothered to change the way he treated me. That night, as I sobered up in the cold wind, I asked my lawyer to draft a divorce agreement. "Henry, in this vast, chaotic world, our paths end here," I said inwardly

(Mommy, When will I see daddy?) "I know you're not Ava, Summer Hills," he enunciated my name in a hushed tone, and it was as though he breathed life into my very existence. "You belong to me now, Mate. And believe me, once I mark you as mine, there's no escaping my claim." As I attempted to steady myself, he drew closer, his arms curling around my slender waist as his lips pressed against mine in a firm seal. **** To ascend the throne, he needs a child, and to get a child, he needs a breeder. To save her mother, she needs to sign the contract and be sold to a cold, sick Alpha, Alpha Alexander, and to save her life, she has to run and leave the pack. But unknowingly... with the Alpha's unborn triplets.

During a kindergarten parent-teacher conference, a rich wife accuses me of stealing her bag. I'm baffled. I bought the bag myself abroad, and it even has my name etched on it. However, when I scrutinize the bag, I discover that my name is missing. I call my husband, and he impatiently says, "I gave your bag to Jen. She's fresh out of college and needs an expensive bag to make herself look good. Even Finn said the bag is too young for you—it suits Jen more. You're too old for these things. You should be glad to even have a fake one." I bark out an exasperated laugh. I can go without having a husband, but the bag has to be returned to me.

He's my mate's father and I had a one-night stand with him. I shouldn't have but I was just so bitter because my mate was sleeping with my half-sister. That night marked the beginning of his insane obsession. And then I realized he wasn't the level-headed and calm father-in-law I always thought he was. Behind that mask was an obsessive, manipulative, and controlling man who had sworn never to let me go. He'd do anything to keep me, including ruining my life. Now I'm stuck in this clandestine erotic relationship we have. And each day, I find myself getting more addicted to him. What do I do to break free from this erotic but toxic bond we share?

Five years after we broke up, my ex bought the company I worked for and suddenly became my direct boss. The project plan I'd stayed up nights working on—nearly killing myself to finish—was handed to someone else without a word. My teammates were split apart, and I became his go-to example when he wanted to tear someone down. I was the laughingstock of the office. Shawn Lubbard said it was the price I had to pay for betraying him. Finally, I asked him what it would take for him to leave me alone. His reply? "Only if you die." Feeling crushed, I drove a knife into my chest right in front of him. Maybe this terrible life should have ended long ago.

Sandra Kinsey's dance studio was where she buried her passion. It was also our secret place. No one else was allowed in. No one but me. Until one day, her assistant barged in, using a love for Latin dance as an excuse, and danced with her intimately. Sandra didn't push him away. That was the moment I knew—you can't make someone stay when their heart has already left. I stripped her of her authority, took over the company myself, and gave Sandra all the freedom she could ever ask for. But later, eyes red and voice trembling, she looked at me and demanded to know why. I sat on the couch and glanced at her with indifference. "Freedom," I said, "always comes at a price. Doesn't it?"

Milo Petrov ruled Russia’s underworld with an iron fist. For years, I was nothing more than his possession—his plaything, his captive. His wealth and dangerous charm ensnared me, but I couldn’t escape the truth: I was nothing more than a pawn in his game. At just 19 years old, I never imagined my life would spiral so far out of control. He was ruthless, but everything about him intrigued me. The only problem? I had once loved his son, Andrew. Now I found myself torn between the deadly allure of Milo and the guilt of betraying Andrew, my first love. Could blood really be thicker than desire? My name is Emilie, and this is the twist story of how Milo Petrov took my heart and shattered my world.

She ran for her life. Escaping a fate worse than death, she left behind the only word she knew, determined never to be controlled again. She took cover in another pack, with the intent to never reveal her true identity and create a new life for herself. And then, fate twisted everything. To keep her life, she had to marry him, the ruthless Alpha who could destroy her with a single command. She pretended to be someone else and get married to him, the same thing she ran away from. Now, every glance he throws her feels like a game of predator and prey. Every touch is a warning. Every word is a test. I ran from one bondage to find myself in another. And this time, the key to her freedom is in his hands.