The Wrong Prom Date

**18+, A COLLECTION OF ONE SHOT SPICY SHORT STORIES** Meet your match in the Obsidian Suite. "The Obsidian Suite offers something... different." I traced my finger along the edge of the podium. "Book it, and our proprietary algorithm will match you with your perfect partner from within our network. You'll have no idea who they are until you meet them in the suite itself." A woman near the centre raised her champagne flute. "How do we know we'll be compatible with our match?" "Trust the algorithm. We have a 98% success rate. Your preferences, desires, and boundaries are all carefully considered. The algorithm doesn't just match physical attraction, but psychological compatibility. The depth of connection our members report is... extraordinary."

At my wedding rehearsal, my fiancé's colleague, Haley Rhodes burst in and tore apart the carefully arranged decor. "Ryan promised he'd marry me!" she shrieked, storming closer, "Who do you think you are?" Without warning, she lunged, grabbing hold of the wedding gown, which was worth a fortune. But she only got so far—she was too heavyset to even squeeze it past her head. I let out a mocking laugh. "Don't tell me you're too big to fit even a plus-size wedding dress?" That really set her off. With grim determination, she forced herself into the gown. But as soon as she did, the delicate fabric tore, leaving absurdly stretched holes across her back and waist. "Too bad the dress is ruined now. But who cares?" she sneered triumphantly. "Ryan loves me. He’ll buy me another wedding gown, anyway." But when the actual wedding began, she got the shock of her life. The groom walking down the aisle wasn’t Ryan at all. It was their boss — Ryan and Haley's boss. Well, I never said this was my wedding.

Synopsis - Isabelle Ellwood, a plain, fuller-figured 19-year-old, hides her poetic soul and dreams of teaching behind dry wit, overshadowed by her beautiful sister who is counted as a family jewel for her grace and beauty and an ambitious father dreaming of snagging a royal title. When Prince Sebastian Nathaniel Winthorne, a bold, dark, and formidable warrior-king at 30, announces a bride-selection season at Cresthaven Palace, Isabelle dares to hope—not for love, but to glimpse the scarred-handed savior of her childhood. Unbeknownst to her, and him, he’s Sebastian, whose commanding presence and passionate heart blind him to her worth, fixated instead on the angelic Amelia Everhart, Isabelle's dearest friend. A secret library meeting shatters Isabelle’s illusions: Sebastian seeks her help to woo Amelia, praising her mind yet oblivious to her love. Their friendship deepens—his admiration grows, her longing festers—culminating in a rain-soaked confrontation where the lavender and breeze ignites his primal desire, clashing with her insecurities. Public scorn and familial cruelty drive Isabelle to flee, forcing Sebastian to confront the void she leaves. As time apart unravels his obsession with Amelia, he pursues Isabelle, his awakening raw and relentless. Their reunion at a glittering ball sparks a dance of resentment and longing, leading to a climactic confession where love triumphs over doubt. Isabelle’s journey from invisible dreamer to empowered princess, and Sebastian’s shift from idealized obsession to soul-deep love, crafts a tale of unseen hearts finding their place—a fiercely unique love story for readers craving wit, angst, and romance. In the opulent yet unforgiving world of Regency-inspired Eldoria, The Crown's Wrong Kiss weaves a slow-burn romance of unrequited love, repressed desire, and transformative self-worth.

I return to the country after attending an international anesthesia academic conference. That's when I see the news of my boyfriend and twin sister getting married. I'm anxious to verify its authenticity, but my sister drugs me and induces me. "A substitute's child will only be an unwelcome bastard even if it's born. I'm just helping it move on to a better life." Then, she slices me open with a scalpel. She gouges my womb out, causing me to die from significant blood loss. Meanwhile, my boyfriend believes her lies. He's sure he's not the father of my child. He ignores my messages begging him to save me. Instead, he spreads the word about me eloping with someone else. He even wipes all traces of me from his life. "I will never see her again, forever and ever." Five years later, surveillance footage of my sister cruelly murdering me surfaces.

My mother-in-law, Teresa Hawke, said she was trapped inside her burning villa. I called my husband, Asher Jensen, begging him to save her. But he was too busy at some bar, flirting with his childhood sweetheart, Melanie Lanner. It wasn't until I begged him, over and over, that he finally went to save Teresa. But Melanie was snatched from that same bar, tortured, killed, and dumped. He acted like none of it mattered until I got pregnant. Then out of nowhere, he threw it all back on me, saying it was my fault. Asher pulled every string he could to bankrupt my family, driving Mom and Dad to leap to their deaths. Then he rounded up a gang of violent psychopaths and threw me in with them. I begged again and again, but he just watched me with that dead stare. "You'll suffer like Mel did before she died! She left this world in agony. Why should you get to live? That's not fair." 99 stab wounds—that was how many it took before I finally bled out and died. And then, I woke up, right back on the day Teresa screamed for help from inside that burning villa.

I secretly invite my in-laws over for the New Year, hoping to surprise my husband, Huxley Carlson. But the moment my father-in-law steps through the door, Huxley's secretary shoves him out. He slams into the shoe cabinet, throwing out his back. She sneers. "Who do you beggars think you are, strolling into Mr. Carlson's villa like this? You're this broke and still have the nerve to call yourself his father-in-law?" I immediately call for the housekeeper to help him, but the secretary blocks her. She even shoves my mother-in-law. "You really think you're the lady of the house?" she snaps. "Mr. Carlson hired the housekeeper to serve him, not to waste time on you or your useless parents." My mother-in-law is so enraged that she suffers a heart attack on the spot. I call Huxley in a panic, begging him to come to the hospital. But he sounds utterly unmoved. His voice is cold and mocking as he says, "Jen told me what happened. The nerve of you, bringing your parents to my house! Now you want me to rush to the hospital because your mom's pretending to be sick? "Tell them to get out! If she dies, she dies. Hell, maybe it's a blessing—just in time for the New Year!"

It's wrong what we do but each time it's stronger than us, it's deliciously and perfectly wrong the future husband of my former friend is my ultimate sin

"I want three things..." He whimpered softly. "To see you...to touch you and to kiss you...Red" "Red?" I mumbled softly, staring into his sapphire eyes. "It fits you, just like the color of your hair," his lips curved into a smirk. "And you are mine from now on... Red" ~~~~~~~~ All Ava wanted wanted was to get revenge on the man that had ruined her entire life. To slip into his life, break down his walls and get rid of him but never would she have thought it would come with a price. She wanted revenge but instead... she was tempted and trapped by the wrong Alpha.

Since childhood, all I dreamed of was marrying a handsome man, a big house, and many children- A big happy family. So how did I end up in his bed? It’s not a one-night stand that I can forget, but it was more than that. I accepted his deal, and he agreed to teach me- Things…. (so dirty things). I had wet dreams but never knew my fortes until he showed me. I am Rubel Johnson, an untouched woman until he showed me, how to touch myself. #loveguru #passion #enemytofriends #kiss #erotic #humor

My mate-to-be, Ethan, said he had some urgent work come up right before our planned full moon trip. He bailed. I was missing him like crazy, so I immediately drove for over ten hours to his city. I hadn’t told Ethan I was coming. There I was, flowers in hand, standing outside his mansion, ready to give my destined mate a sweet surprise. But then I caught the mixed scent of Ethan and another female werewolf. The scent was sickeningly familiar. Amber Collins. Ethan’s ex-mate. I fought back the burn in my nose, my eyes already red, and pushed the door open. And what did I see? Them, sharing a glass of red wine, cuddled up, practically on top of each other. When Ethan finally noticed me, he jerked his arm away from Amber, walked stiffly over, his voice laced with panic. "Scarlett, why didn't you tell me you were coming?"