The Penguin Press นิยาย & เรื่องราว

For ten years, I have stayed by Maren Hale's side without her formally acknowledging me as her boyfriend. Thus, I become the oldest kept man in Harborfield. After I turn 30, I have asked her to marry me more than 30 times. Each time, she smiles and kisses me. "Reid, I'll marry you when I'm ready," she says. When I'm 31, a car accident nearly kills me. Still shaken, I propose to Maren. She tells me to wait a little longer. By the time I'm 33, a doctor warns me that my kidney function is declining. I wave the diagnosis report in front of her and press for marriage. Yet, she still tells me to wait. While I wait for her, the sun rises and sets over Mount Carlisle more than 3,600 times. Finally, I think she is ready. Holding back tears, I promise my seriously ill father that he will live to see me get married. What I don't know is that Maren is not opposed to marriage. It's just that the ten years she spends fooling around with me are nothing more than an act of rebellion against her mother, who has driven away her former fiancé. Before the banquet, I see the ring I give Maren inside her handbag. I think she is finally going to accept my proposal. Nervous and hopeful, I wait the entire evening. But just moments ago, during a game of dare, she casually tosses the ring to a male model she has just met. "The kid is turning 20. A pink diamond suits him perfectly. Next time, I'll have an emerald one made for us." The entire room bursts into laughter. I laugh along with them. "Don't bother," I said. "Someone else already has a rock waiting for me, and I said yes."

I've been married to Sylvia Fuller, a mafia donna, for ten years. I'm there with her in every life-and-death situation. My hands, which are meant for playing the piano, have developed calluses from using guns. They are also stained with blood from the enemies. But when Sylvia turns 28, she falls head over heels in love with Wilson Hink, the young man she's brought back from the slums. Sylvia has hidden him very well… right until the moment I bump into him accompanying her to a prenatal check-up. Mad with jealousy, I demand Sylvia for answers, but she just passes me a divorce agreement in a lackadaisical manner. "Wilson is a man of religion. He can't sire a child without getting married, so I have to give him a legitimate status. Sign this agreement, and I'll give you 40% of my shares." I refuse to give my position away, so Sylvia keeps forcing my hand. In the end, she even kidnaps my younger brother, who's paralyzed from waist down, and drags him to the spot beneath a hydraulic press. "Sebastian Chance, either you sign the agreement, or watch him get crushed. Your choice." I kneel on the ground and beg Sylvia to stop. But soon, I hear the hydraulic press being activated. It doesn't take long before I'm completely covered in my brother's flesh and blood. I end up collapsing onto the gore-splattered ground. When I open my eyes again, I realize I've gone back in time—back to the time when Wilson has accompanied Sylvia to the prenatal check-up. This time, I don't say anything. Instead, I contact a rehabilitation center located overseas before filing for a divorce and leaving Sylvia behind. But once I'm gone for real, Sylvia actually goes crazy.

My name is Christian Thompson, and once upon a time, I was the best striker in European football. That was until he came along—Ashford Ryder, young and carefree, 10 years my junior and the new shining star. I hate him. At least that's what I tell myself. Not just because he's taken my spot, but because he's everything I've struggled all my life to be, and not to be. He's vibrant, he's happy, and the worst of all, he's openly gay. I'm not homophobic, quite the opposite—I've lived in the closet all my life. All my life, I've had to hide who I am to please the people around me. European football hasn't always been this accepting of gay men, and I'd squeezed myself into a box to fit in with what they wanted of me. It isn’t that hard when you think about my family who'd rather disown me than have an openly gay son. So imagine how I feel when the world decides to be more accommodating to people like Ashford Ryder when they shoved me in a box. It's not so easy to hate the happy-go-lucky striker, when he does everything to get close to me, despite my insistent hatred for him. He's like a thorn in my side—a hot, sexy, blonde, 5ft9 thorn I can't stop thinking about. But when one day I lose my cool around the popular striker and land myself in bad press, I end up needing his help. It's supposed to be easy. Spend some time with Ashford Ryder, and show our fans that we can work together—it's what I need to do to save my career. But no one tells you how hard it is to hate someone you spend every waking hour dreaming about.

“You’re disgusting. Get out of my room,” I demand as I press up to my feet. He doesn’t protest and stands up, slicking his bright pink hair back. “Whatever ya say, Bunny. Get some sleep. You have an early day tomorrow,” he winks at me and makes his way out the door. - - - - Sapphire Stone is the third daughter of the late Alpha Bronson Stone. Despite losing both her parents to the Fated Plague when she was just a child, and being separated from her sisters, Saph maintained an optimistic attitude. She was always the sister who could look on the bright side. That is until she lost her chosen mate when he sacrificed his life for another. Once bright-eyed and caring Saph is now using any means to numb herself from the pain of her broken heart. Her reckless behavior has ultimately landed her in serious trouble with Alpha Asher of Red Mountain Pack. Coping with her loss and grief is hard enough. Now, Saph must face the man who cost her chosen mate his life, along with helping find a cure for what could be another plague. Alpha Asher is the light-hearted, and alternative, leader of the Red Mountain Pack. After uprooting his pack from Australia, Asher has vowed to always keep his pack members safe and free from worry. The full moon run reveals a bond that Asher cannot fight, but also cannot act on. With secrets from his past resurfacing, Asher will do anything to protect his new-found mate, even if it’s from herself. A former betrayal looms in the shadows, threatening to decimate what’s left of Asher’s pack. It will require him to trust his mate, and new allies, to help him save what matters most to him.

I never wanted any part in this. But I have no choice. With a deep sigh, I force down an invisible lump in my throat, looking up at the priest. I press my fingers tighter into the flower I am holding, hoping it hides how much I am shaking. Dreading the words the priest is about to utter. “Do you, Ariella Cecilia Boone, take Dermos Salvatore to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The priest asks. I blink. I badly want to say it, badly want to scream that I am not Ariella Cecilia Boone. My lips tremble as I force the truth down my throat, “Yes, I do.” I murmur, my voice a little over a whisper. ~~~~ Ariel Hannah Boone didn't know what life had in store for her when she woke up on her twin sister's wedding day, only to find out her sister had run away. She went into panic when her mother insisted she take her place because Dermos Salvatore was no man to joke with. Dermos was the most feared Don in the whole of Sicily, one who killed without care. A blood thirsty murderer with no remorse. In an attempt to save her family from his wrath, she takes her sister's place at the wedding. Pain, suffering, and betrayal are all she knows the moment she became his. Secrets begin to unveil as she realises her family isn't what it seems. And when whispers of her sister's disappearance reach her, she finds out the truth. He never wanted Ariella; it had always been her. Ariel has to choose between a love built on lies or betraying her sister and family. She was his bride, and he was her prison, yet he would never let her go.

I reach for the door handle, the cold metal biting into my skin as I press my thumb against the latch. Before I can pull the door open, Cade's arm shoots out from behind me, slamming it shut. My body jolts, my heart leaping into my throat as I feel the heat of his body against my back. He lowers himself to me, his breath fanning my ear. "Are you walking out on me again, Elysian?” A shaky breath parts my lips, the hair on the back of my neck standing on its ends. "I never walked out on you, Cade…" My voice falters, betraying me. "Don't lie to me." His tone is aggressive. "I told you a long time ago never to walk away from me again. Are you always so careless?” I try to swallow, but my throat is too tight. "I'm sorry," I manage, the words barely audible. "You said that already," he challenges me, warning me to choose my next words carefully. But I can't. I can't think. I can't move. As his grip on the door tightens, I realize he's not giving me a choice. ⊰ Heartprints in the Void ⊱ My name is Elysian Reign, and I'm not extraordinary. His name is Cade Sinclair, and unlike me, he is extraordinary. At the age of 25, he inherited billions from his trillionaire father—David Sinclair. You never imagine that the love of your life's own father would manipulate his son's life to get rid of you—even if it means forcing him into an experimental hypnosis treatment. After three years, you'd think I'd have learned my lesson. You'd think I would've changed my identity and left the country after walking in on my first day at my new and finding out that Cade is now my boss.

"First time?" he asks, lowering his hand to my abdomen, his body tensing. I bite my lip, seeing his eyes flash with something dark. He pushes deeper inside me, and I wince. Pain shoots through me, but pleasure quickly follows, numbing me to the world. The sparks and tingles distract me from the discomfort. "So tight," he murmurs as he pulls out. "Please," I moan recklessly, knowing I should stop him but It feels so good. "Eager to feel my c**k," he growls as he thrusts back inside me, his voice makes me forget the pain. But I lose myself, existing only for the man inside me. As the thrusts cease, his ragged breaths send shivers down my spine. I press my forehead into the pillow, disoriented. "Mine..." He growls. Then Asher takes a deep breath, and he says the words that shatter my heart. "I, Asher Knight, Alpha of the Redwood Pack, hereby reject you, Alethea Weaver of BloodMoon pack as my mate." *** Alethea hasn't fully awakened her wolf. Her life takes a darker turn when her father forces her to be a breeder to Xavier, the Beta of the Bluemoon Pack. But when Xavier's jealous girlfriend threatens her life, Alethea has no choice but to run. Alethea is attacked but saved by a shadowy figure-Alpha Asher, knowing she is his fated mate. With her wolf still dormant, Alethea is unaware of the deep connection between them. Asher, torn between duty ends things. A brutal accident leaves Alethea with no memory of her past-and no idea that she's carrying Asher's child. As she rebuilds her life, hidden truths, and long-buried secrets begin to resurface. Will she uncover why Asher pushed her away? And as rival packs close in, will she discover her power before it's too late?

“This is forbidden, Asael….”she uttered, making him clench his jaw. “This is wrong,” once again she repeated those same exact words to him which had destroyed his life 3 years ago brutally. “Why is this wrong, Ezrene? Because I am your fucking stepbrother?” He seethed out at her, slamming her against his sinewy body. “Why is this forbidden because my fucking father is going to marry your mother?” he spat at her. “But as far as I could remember….” He thrusted his face dangerously closer to hers. “You had let this stepbrother of yours get closer to you to that extent where you had fucking conceived with his child,” those words of his numbed her very existence completely. “That same exact child of mine which you killed with your own hands before I even got to know about its existence,” that utterly venomous pain flashed in his eyes which teared her up more, making him press his forehead against hers. “Your dad will kill you for this, Asael,” A lethal smirk formed on his face at her words. “You think I am afraid of him and my death?” He asked her while lifting his hands up to palm her face. “If I would have been afraid of my father and my death then I wouldn't have abducted you from you altar, in front of your fucking would-be husband, my father and the whole world, bella,”wiping her eyes, he pushed his face closer to hers. “Because we both know you're just mine, mi bella,” he pressed his lips against hers, causing her soul to break by finding herself trapped in the arms of her love and…… What brutality this love of hers was going to make her endure because she was in love with HER OBSESSED STEPBROTHER?

Ethan and I met at a soup kitchen in the slums. We were fighting over half a moldy bread roll. I only learned his story from other people later. His father was the head of Lorencio's largest crime family, killed in a bloody power struggle from within. His mother took a payout and vanished. My father was an accountant for another family. He was framed for cooking the books and shot dead. Same story, same wound. That was what brought us together. We clawed our way up from a crumbling slum to the marble halls of the Lorencio crime families, until finally Ethan took his seat as Don of the Valeria Family. Nine years of marriage. No church. No proposal. Not even a proper cake. Then one day, out of nowhere, Ethan said he wanted to get me a diamond ring. "We had no church and no priest when we got married. I've been meaning to do this properly for a long time. And there'll be more to come." I stared at the custom diamond in the display case, enormous and flawless, and felt something close to happiness. The sales associate smiled and complimented his taste, mentioning that another couple had just ordered a ring too. They'd walked out minutes ago, planning a proposal for tomorrow. "Nine years together and still this in love. That's everything." I reached for his hand. He stepped away, said he needed to take a call. I hadn't heard his phone ring. I followed. Down the hallway, I watched him press a woman against the wall, his mouth on hers. His voice was sharp with jealousy. "You actually agreed to let him propose to you?" "Break it off. I'll buy you the ring." I stood frozen. My chest caved in. Then a pair of hands pulled me into a fitting room alcove. A man's breath was close, warm in the dark. A low voice, almost amused: "Your husband's sleeping with my fiancée. Why don't we give it a try too?"

"I’ll make you beg and cry out my name, Father Hale. You won’t even be able to face the altar without remembering how you came apart on my tongue." Vincente terrifying voice admitted curling around the crucifix at my throat as his rough, unforgiving fingers, pinned my wrists above my head. His thigh shoved between mine, spreading me open, and the heavy press of his cock ground against the thin barrier of my underclothes. Mine answered before I could stop it, swelling shamefully through the thin clothes that clung like a second, traitorous skin. "Feel that?" he whispered, rolling slow, merciless circles that tore a broken sound from my throat. "That’s your body confessing louder than any prayer." I tried to twist away, but the movement only dragged my hips harder against him. "Please," I gasped, the word cracking open like a wound. "Vicente —God—" "God’s not here," he growled, his teeth grazing the shell of my ear. "Only me, you don't call God when you are about to sin." His hands slipped under me working on me. I bit my lip until I tasted blood, but the moan slipped out anyway, raw and ragged. "Say it. Say you want me," he demanded, his thumb circling the slick head until my vision blurred. "Beg me to stop. Or beg me not to." A sob tore free as my body arched, chasing the pleasure I hated myself for craving. "Please...Vicente—" He swallowed the broken plea with his mouth, teeth and tongue, sucking the faint copper of my own blood. When he pulled back, his eyes glittered like black glass. "Oh." He smiled, "You mean I can continue?" And my last hope to get him stop chattered.