Talking To Strangers Novels & Stories

Luca Marino's world collapses when he realizes he's been unknowingly laundering money for the Russian mafia. After talking to the FBI, he's kidnapped and sold at an underground auction to the highest bidder. Dante Vitale never planned to buy anyone. But when the defiant accountant refuses to break despite his terror, Dante can't stop himself from claiming him. As Luca investigates betrayal within Dante's crime family, enemies close in from all sides. The Bratva wants him dead. A detective wants him to testify. And Dante's own family sees him as a dangerous weakness. Trapped between the man who bought him and the freedom he lost, Luca faces an impossible truth: he's falling for his captor. But he doesn't know if what he feels is real or just a way to survive. Can love built on such a dark beginning ever become something genuine? Or will the way they started destroy them both?

Mary can see beings from the other side where most people don't. Her ability causes her to have a hard time growing up. She always thought that it was a gift to see the paranormal entities around us. But it turns out to be a curse since she can't live a normal life. Her only mistake is that she started talking to that spirit and even gave him a name. She called the ghost, Angel. The reason for that name is because he always keeps her safe. He always makes sure that there will be nobody who can hurt her. Until she saw his real face… Then, she will meet another interesting man, Gregory, who happens to be a vampire. He will save her from the hands of the angel of death who is pretending to be her friend. Gregory has to save her from Angel because she will make a perfect wife for a lonely vampire. Will Mary agree to the vampire's marriage proposal? Or will she choose to go back to the land of the living?

My fiancé dumped me the moment he found out about my rare blood type. "That condition of yours? Yeah, it'd just drain my wallet." I was spiraling when Vincent showed up—like some knight in shining armor, pulling me out of the wreckage. He didn't care about my blood type. We barely dated before he proposed, and for a while, married life felt perfect. Until a year later, when I overheard him talking to a doctor. "Vincent, you already took 400 milliliters of Sophia's blood last month, and now you want another 200? Are you insane? Even if you love Emma, you can't just drain an innocent woman dry for her!" "A little more won't kill her. Stop overreacting." My head spun. My whole body went cold. That's when it hit me—our perfect marriage had been a lie from the start.

“You’re getting engaged tomorrow.” My father said blandly as if he was talking about the weather. But that wasn't my problem. The problem is I’ve only met the girl once… and I don’t even like girls. No one knows I’m gay. Not even my father. So, the night before the big party, I did something stupid. I went to a bar. I got drunk. And I kissed a stranger. He was hot and dangerous in the best way. We had a one night stand. One night. That’s all it was supposed to be. Until the next day... when he walked into my engagement party. My fiancée turned to me and smiled. “Meet my brother.” I looked at him, frozen. And then he said, with a smirk— “Nice to meet you.” My heart dropped. This wasn’t just a one-night mistake anymore. Now, it’s the beginning of something dangerous... and maybe something real. Something I wanted.

My wedding to Don Lorenzo Corsica was always 'almost.' Five years engaged. Thirty-two weddings. Every single one crashed and burned. Then came number thirty-three. Halfway through, the chapel wall caved in. I landed in the ICU. Skull fracture. Major concussion. A dozen critical alerts. Two months stuck between life and death. Then I clawed my way back. On discharge day, I caught him talking to his right-hand guy. "Don, if you're really into that scholarship girl, just dump Ms. Mortoro," the guy said. "Corsicas can kill gossip. No need for staged accidents... She nearly died." Lorenzo went quiet. Then finally, "I owed her parents. They died for me. Marrying her was the only way to repay that. But I love Sofia. She's the one I want." I looked down at my stitched-up body and cried without a sound. So it wasn't fate that wrecked me. It was him. If he couldn't choose, I'd do it for him.

Screw standard blurbs. This isn't an ordinary book... This is a paranormal romance, with a reverse harem feel. Addictive as crack, and I'm not talking old, hairy builders crack either. Don't expect any fluff or happy endings, because what you'll actually get is bad attitudes, foul language, and men so damn hot, they'll melt your panties off with just one look. Read the book. Let me pull you in and make you fall in love, before viciously ripping out your heart, just because I can. By the end of the book, expect to be ugly crying, while you plot my slow, yet painful death. As tempted as you are, do not throw your tablet at the wall. I promise I'll send one of my hunks to rescue you from that cliff you're currently hanging from by your bra straps. You're welcome. I'll see you in the next book, sweetcheeks.

Our daughter was diagnosed with a genetic illness. To save her, my husband founded a charity in her name. To raise the funds, he pushed himself to the brink—working three hundred days straight, surviving on three hours of sleep a night. His relentless drive moved countless people. The media hailed him as "Father of the Year." Everyone congratulated me on having such a devoted partner. Then came the day he rallied the entire nation, securing pledges for millions in donations to fund our daughter's cure. At the gala, with over ten million dollars moments from being transferred, I suddenly hit the pause button. "And now, we'll take a brief intermission for a signing," I announced. The room erupted. They shouted at me, called me selfish, a monster. My husband stared at me, utterly stunned. "Have you lost your mind? Children around the world are waiting on this money to survive! What in God's name are you talking about?" I lifted my gaze to meet his. "A divorce agreement."

Mia D’Lorne thought heartbreak would kill her but getting hit by a car did the job faster. One second she’s running from the sound of her boyfriend and sister fornicating, the next she’s standing in front of an abandoned bus station in what looks like purgatory. The bus that picks her up looks like a prop in a horror movie and she’s introduced to the world of the Soul Recycle Program. To exist, she has to compete in a twisted afterlife show where the dead fight their way through nightmare worlds for the amusement of unknown and unseen spectators. The rules are simple. Survive or disappear for good. Mia is joined by two strangers who are just as broken as she is. Axel Rivers, who has been dead for almost a century, and Bree DeBois, a control freak paramedic with more guilt than she can carry. Together they try to survive the challenges of the game. As the trio do their best to keep from being erased, they begin to realize the Game is more personal than they imagined.

“You need to know what you are getting into, sweetie.” He smirked, running his eyes down my body, stripping me bare with his dark, wanton eyes. I gulped and took slow steps towards him, walking on shaky legs but trying to look strong. “You don't know I am, Mark. Bring it on. I can sate your demons.” No matter how dark they are. After all, I'm not the angel he thinks I am… **** Running from her foster parents, Giulia had a run-in with Mark, a Mafia Lord in Spain. The meeting was incidental, but it sealed the hearts of the strangers, bringing them back to each other despite how far they tried to go. One is a sadist, and the other is a closeted masochist, waiting for the right one to set free her inner restraints. Will their paths be straight, or will there be internal and external forces trying to keep them apart? Would Giulia succeed in taming the mafia Lord, or will his darkness engulf her? Note: This is the second book in the series.

I used to be the most promising composer of my generation. But while I was working on my latest piece, my husband Charles Lambert's childhood friend destroyed everything I had. She slashed my face, stole my compositions, and set fire to my house—leaving me to burn alive alongside the kitten I'd just adopted. Then, as if my death were just a spark for her success, she posted my compositions online, claiming I'd plagiarized her. And people believed her. Everyone did. Strangers on the internet sneered and spat my name, and my own husband, Charles, chose to believe her over me. Even the International Musical Society rescinded my award and handed it to her without a second thought. My students, who once followed me loyally, were now fawning over her. I became the laughingstock of the entire internet—mocked, discredited, erased. It wasn't until a week later, when someone stumbled upon the charred remains of my lakeside studio, that they found what was left of me.