The Hand Requiem

When my husband learns of his first love's death, he jumps from the cruise ship where we are spending our honeymoon, ending his life. Only then do I realize he has never gotten over Clara Levine. Reborn back to his teenage years, he resolutely lets go of my hand and walks toward his first love. I watch them leave together, then turn and walk away. From that moment on, our lives become nothing more than two parallel lines that will never meet. Ten years later, we run into each other at a banquet in Oceanus City. He has become a rising star among the elite, with Clara appearing on his arm, intimately holding onto him. When he sees me accidentally wander into the banquet, he can't help but give me advice. "Stop obsessing over me. Even if you wait for me for ten years, I still won't fall in love with you." I ignore him and pull my son out from the corner where he's sneaking cake. His eyes suddenly turn bloodshot as he grabs my hand tightly. "How dare you try to make me jealous on purpose? Didn't you say you would only love me for your entire life?" he says.

Anita," her angelic voice calls to me. Thunder rumbles in the distance. Her soft, delicate hands caressing my face, sparkling green eyes grounding me from the dark past I wish I could forget. "You're safe, it's okay." I bring my hand up, running my finger over the mound of scar tissue. The constant reminder of that night. The raised bump covers the bullet fragment embedded in my sternum. She takes my hands as more thunder rumbles and tears roll down my cheeks. "Breathe Anita," she says in a soothing whisper. My lungs were burning with the need for air and it was then that I realized I'd been holding it. I take in a gasping breath and recall the first time my eyes met her green eyes. My sister had been lifted off me and my eyes opening had startled her. The first time she touched me gave me strength to hold on. I held her hand tight, trying to tell her what happened, but couldn't get enough breath to form words. Sitting in the present going through the same as I had five years ago. "They were all found, Anita. They can't hurt you anymore. It's just a storm. All the doors and windows are locked, the alarm is set. It's just you and me." "Will you keep the light on tonight, please?"

"Touch me until I cum so hard that I forget my own name," I gasped, my lips brushing his, trembling beneath the weight of his stare. "You will forget more than that, wife," he rasped, gripping my throat with one hand and sliding the other down my body, "I will make you cum until you forget how to fight your feelings for me." * Elena Thrown into a marriage with the city’s most dangerous mafia king, I had one mission, to seduce him, overwhelm him and make him end it. So, I moaned louder, touched deeper, played the part of a woman consumed by lust, all in hopes he would be repulsed. But Dominic Moretti doesn’t fall for games. He plays them better. Colder, rougher and unrelenting. Every fake moan becomes real. Every forced kiss turns savage. And every time I think that I have the upper hand, he flips me over and makes me forget I ever wanted to get out of this marriage. He doesn’t believe in love. I don’t believe in staying. But when lust ignites war and pleasure starts to hurt in all the right ways, it’s no longer about breaking the marriage, it’s about surviving it. One of us will break. One of us will beg. But we will be both drenched in each other's lust before it’s all over.

EXCERPT: John freed himself from the security lashes in order to gain more access to Tom. He gripped his friend's waist, squeezing to emphasize how much he was willing to give up for this man. "I can touch you. We can touch. Touch me." Tom searched John's face with his eyes, the flush on his cheeks darkening and capturing John's attention once more. He could feel Tom's uncertainty as if it were a weighted net falling over them both to pin them in place. Summoning his courage, he stripped his tunic from his upper body and seized Tom's hand in his own. "Touch me. Please." John thought Tom was going to refuse until he used his free hand to reach out. SYNOPSIS: Refugees of a dead planet, the Zen are grateful the people of Earth are willing to offer them a new home. Executive Orders from the White House declare America a safe-haven for any of the shapeshifting aliens as long as they follow three basic rules: 1. Zen must take a human appearance. 2. Zen must register with human names at Social Services. 3. Zen must find paid work or volunteer to help their country. Two friends declare themselves "married" during their registration without realizing they are now legally bound to one another as a couple. Will New Americans John and Tom see their friendship turn into a romance or will they reject being accidentally married aliens?

"You want to know why all this is happening so Let me tell you but remember that I don't like any kind of rudeness and disrespect. You're here because I want something from you that you'll give me." Hearing his puzzled words, she looked at him and she asked him desperately wiping her tears "What???" "My baby that you will carry for me" "Are you mad??? What the hell are you saying ??" she scoffed at him harshly and turned around to leave this place. He fisted her hairs in his grip from behind and pulled her painfully towards him making her scream in pain. she placed her hand to remove his hand from her hair but he didn't lose his grip. "Leave me you monster. You are disgusting." She shouted on him. "don't you dare to use this tone with me. I don't like people when they disrespect me. This is my first and last warning to you that don't do this again or else you can't even imagine what I will do to you and now listen to me carefully that you will give me my child. I am not asking you but I am telling you that it would be better for you to do what you are here for." He hissed at her dangerously while fisting her hair more painfully making her hiss in pain.

Patricia could not ask for anything more in her life but to fulfill her dream of becoming a doctor. She has beauty, intelligence and perseverance but when their company got buried in debt, she has to save it by getting married to the son of a well-known business tycoon in the country, Callum Teo Velasquez. Callum Teo Velasquez on the other hand was almost perfect in the eyes of women, with his handsome face, good fashion, and richness, many are obsessed with him. Are they able to get the freedom they want or will things become more complicated for them? Or will the blaze be the way for the two of them to land on good terms?

At six months pregnant, I joined a moms’ group chat to learn parenting tips from other mothers, and one of them couldn’t resist showing off. "I’m so jealous of you guys, getting to cuddle your babies all day. Not like me—I'm handing mine off to a free nanny right after giving birth!" 'Free nanny? Since when are nannies free?' I tapped on her profile picture—and the sight of that hand draped over her shoulder made cold sweat run down my back.

"I can't be with you," he states, and I look up at him in outrage. "This isn't right." I take a step closer to him, pressing my body on his and feeling him responding with desire. "Look me in the eye and tell me that it feels wrong." He doesn't move. But he doesn't turn away either when I lift my hand to his chest, letting my hand trail down. "Don't," he warns, but I can only hear lust in his voice. "Dont' start a game that you can't finish." I don't listen. I let my touch speak for itself, to let it translate all the need I feel in my body right now. I go lower, much lower, until he finally snaps and grabs my face, devouring my lips and pressing me up against the wall. "You asked for this, and now I have to claim you." *** Astrid Marshall has always been infatuated with her best friend's dad, former Alpha Klaus Slate. At first she thought it's just a childish crush, but she later finds out that they're connected in ways that she can't comprehend. They're fated mates. He's the man of her desires, but she's his temptation, the woman he's forbidden to have.

I dated my younger brother’s best friend, Dylan Lane, for three years. More than once, he told me how much he loathed arranged marriages and how he hated being chained by family interests. However, one night, after another bout of indulgence, he wrapped his arms around me and begged me sweetly to design a wedding ring for his fiancée—someone he had never even met. The smile froze on my face, yet he just said indifferently, “Aren’t people like us all destined to marry for our families' benefit?” Seeing the blood drain from my face, he even chuckled. “Vee, don’t you tell me you're still as naïve as a 20-year-old girl, thinking I would ever marry you? At most, we're just… pillow friends." Later, I agreed to the marriage my family had arranged for me. Dylan showed up on my wedding day, disheveled and red-eyed. He fell to his knees and begged me not to leave. I stood beside my new husband, hand in hand, and smiled faintly as I chuckled. “Didn’t you say people like us were born for arranged marriages? I’m simply doing what you always wanted me to do. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

Everyone thought I was just an Omega clinging to Alpha Pheisar— gentle, silent, unworthy of love. In his eyes, I was nothing more than a burden the Moon Goddess tossed his way. But the moment he held Selene’s hand and vowed a mate-bond at the Moonlit Altar, I finally understood — I had never mattered. He never kept a promise, never cared about the wolf-soul I burned to keep him alive. So I rejected him. He thought I was being dramatic—until I bonded with the “comatose Alpha” everyone believed would never wake. When he knelt at my ceremony and roared “I only want you,” I simply replied: “Too late.” What they never knew was this— I was never a vine to be pulled or broken. I can stitch a wedding gown with devotion, and cut off a rotting love just as cleanly. I can be soft— and I can be resolute. The day I married Alpha Zander, no one expected him to wake—much less fall for me. But the first time I whispered “Mate” in his arms, the ice around him melted into pure devotion. And in the quiet dark, his hand firm on my waist, he murmured: “Pheisar is downstairs begging again…I’m feeling jealous. You’ll have to make it up to me.” This time— Pheisar will learn what kind of treasure he threw away. And Zander will know the partner in his hands is worth a lifetime of love.