Thirteen Fifty Novels & Stories

From dating to marriage, seven years together, Kevin Fletcher bailed on fifty-two trips with me. Every single time, he had an excuse. A project deadline. A last-minute business trip. An elderly relative who suddenly wasn't doing well. And every single time, he promised he'd make it up to me. I believed him. Fifty-two times. Until last month, when I found a travel planner tucked away in his study. Inside were fifty-two plane tickets to the same city. And fifty-two photos of him and his so-called childhood friend, Fiona Snow. Written on the first photo: [She said she wanted to see the ocean, so I cleared my schedule and took her.] On the thirty-third: [She got drunk and said her biggest regret was never starting a family with me.] The fifty-second photo was dated the same day he blew off our fifth wedding anniversary trip. On the back, he'd written: [She's pregnant. I'm going to be a dad!] I wiped my tears away, opened my laptop, and drafted the divorce papers. Then I booked a ticket to Antarctica. This time, I was going to see the view alone.

When I hear my boyfriend, Terence Bowen, is trapped in a house fire, I immediately rush back to save him. However, after dragging him out with all my strength, I realize it's just a dummy. Laughter erupts from the house next door. "Ariana Brock is such a fool! She fell for it again!" Through a half-open window, I spot Terence lounging on the couch, casually scrolling through his phone. He looks completely fine. "That's the 47th prank we've pulled on her. Three more to go and we're done." "Serves her right. She shouldn't have stolen Bethany Howard's scholarship. Bethany is the one Terence actually cares about. That's why he decided to fake a relationship with Ariana to get revenge 50 times over. Too bad the game will end soon." I bend over, gasping for air. All this time, the relationship I've worked so hard to protect is nothing but a game to them.

“Spread your legs for me, printsessa. Show me how desperate that pretty pussy gets just thinking about my cock.” “My pleasure, sir…” * Trixie waited five years for Zahar to come home. One weekend is all it takes for everything to fall apart. One look from him. One touch. One quiet groan of her name, and she’s on her knees, begging for the man she was never supposed to want. He’s her father’s best friend. Her childhood crush. The man who stopped pretending he didn’t feel the same the second he saw her again. It’s wrong. It’s dirty. And neither of them is backing down.

Heat: Fifty Erotic Fictions for the Fevered Mind By Gem-Ma No fade to black. No soft focus. Just the edge of pleasure. Step into a world where boundaries melt, clothes fall, and fantasies ignite. From secret pillow fights and forbidden fittings to rough backseat confessions and whispered sins behind bookstore shelves, HEAT delivers 50 scorching tales of seduction, kink, and raw, unfiltered desire. Whether it's soft sighs in a steamy bath or the slap of skin in a dark alley, each story plunges you deep into lust, longing, and the edge of surrender. M/F. F/F. M/M. Threesomes. Strangers. Exes. Teachers. Brides. Bosses. No fantasy is off-limits. Multiple kinks. All orientations. One rule: never look away. Perfect for readers who crave vivid scenes, dirty talk, and characters who always cross the line-again and again.

Step into a world where passion is dangerous and desire burns without mercy. From candlelit ballrooms to storm-lashed beaches, from secret libraries to the hidden corners of enchanted realms, Fifty Shades of Desire unveils fifty dark, intoxicating tales of lust, obsession, and consuming love. Forget gentle courtships and sweet promises. These stories explore the jagged edges of surrender and the intoxicating madness of obsession—where one forbidden touch can mean total ruin. Each tale will leave you breathless… shaken… and aching for more. Explore your wildest desires, embrace forbidden temptations, and dare to surrender to the darkness.

I was the real son of the Lane family, lost and left outside for 27 years. A year after I was brought back, I helped the Lane family’s company break into overseas markets, tripling its annual sales. However, at the end of the year, even the outsourced janitors got a 13th-month bonus, while the fake heir gave me just 250 dollars. “The company made money, sure, but there are expenses everywhere. You’re just a low-level salesperson. All you do is talk. You should be grateful you got that much.” I could not swallow it, so I went to argue with my biological sister, the general manager. She did not even look up. “Clive didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t have much education and no core skills. You were never qualified for management bonuses.” My parents did not care either. They were too busy planning which country to take the fake heir to for the holidays. I did not argue or make a scene. I just turned around and called Lane Corporation’s biggest rival. “A salesperson who brought in 30 million dollars in the last year is looking to jump ship. Interested? I don’t have any other demands. I just want to see Lewis Corporation go under as soon as possible!”

I loved Lucian for years and gave up everything to save his life, but all I got in return was disgust in his eyes. In my past life, I was forced to become his mate, but in the end, I died under the claws of the feral wolves he sent after me, and he even snapped my brother Marcus's neck with his own teeth. The night I was reborn, I made a different choice. I let my rival Ayara have what she wanted. I married the brutal Prince Draven in her place, the one rumors said would "kill his bride," and she got to run off and save Lucian. But when the wedding car door opened, the person who stepped out was the gentle boy I'd met when I was five years old. "Take a closer look, sweetheart. Am I really as terrifying as the rumors say?" His amber eyes were full of warmth and affection. Turns out, he'd staged twelve fake weddings just waiting for me to grow up. By the time Lucian got on his knees and begged me to come back, it was already too late; I was Draven's Luna now.

"You'll be dead within a year," her uncle said, signing her life away with a stroke of his pen. "But at least you'll finally be useful." Ivy Rowan had always been invisible. Starved, beaten, and silenced by the family that stole her inheritance. When her uncle's debts catch up to him, she becomes the payment. He sold her to Dorian Vale, the billionaire mafia lord cursed to bury every woman he marries. Twelve brides. Twelve graves. All within a year. Dorian doesn't expect his thirteenth bride to last any longer. She's fragile, flinches at every sound. Her weakness annoys him. She never fights back and barely speaks. But then he notices something strange. She doesn't fear him. And that wakes something in him he thought was long dead. It turns out the curse isn't supernatural. It's murder. Someone is killing the brides. And the killer has already chosen their next victim. Dorian has never saved anyone. Ivy has never been worth saving. Will Dorian's cold heart thaw in time to save her? Or will Ivy become the final victim of his curse?

My mom calls me on Friday. "Don't forget about tomorrow's family dinner. Cody loves shrimps, so you should buy more of those at the seafood market in the southern district. "Lexi loves lamb chops. Go take a look in the eastern district for them. Also, don't forget to buy the imported strawberries. Noah loves them a lot." I say yes to each and every request Mom makes. But as soon as I end the call, I receive a text on the family group chat. "I've already given Eileen a list of our favorite foods. It's tough for you to earn money these days, so you shouldn't buy anything." One second later, that message is deleted. Still, I'm flabbergasted by what I just read. I've been married for two years. Every Saturday throughout those years, I'm the one paying and organizing the family dinner of the week. I thought there's no need to be so petty when it comes to family. But it seems that they've already viewed me as the outsider a long time ago. In that case, I won't be attending the family dinner anymore.

Unable to take it anymore, I upload a photo of my husband, Johann Garner, holding hands with his secretary, Eva Ford, to the company's group chat. A long while later, Johann finally replies, "It's just something we do when we're working together. Those who are vile in nature will always view things differently from others." Messages from his colleagues begin flooding the group chat immediately. They all discuss whether or not I'm delusional. But I'm the only one who knows just how skilled Johann is at manipulating others as an expert manipulator. After muting the group chat, I look down at the ring Johann has slipped onto my finger when he first proposed to me. When exactly can I escape from the prison he has built around me?