Touch Starved

I went abroad for a year to further my studies and kept in touch with my girlfriend through video calls every day. One day, I saw her first love posted a photo with a caption: [We are finally back together after ten years!] In the photo, my girlfriend was visibly pregnant, holding the arm of the man next to her with a sweet smile.

Sinful Seduction is a scorching collection of forbidden short stories where desire defies rules and restraint. From taboo office affairs to reckless nights between enemies, each tale explores lust at its most dangerous and delicious. Secrets unravel, boundaries blur, and pleasure takes control. In a world where temptation reigns, every touch becomes a sinful invitation.

She was raised in a world of traditions and innocence; he rules a world of violence and fear. When a dangerous biker stumbles into her quiet life, everything she knows begins to crack. Kane never planned to touch something so pure, never planned to want her, and never planned to love her, but once he does, he will burn the world to protect her.

My sister, Bella, had a baby in a back-alley shithole. Then she disappeared. A midwife tracked me down using an address Bella left behind. She shoved the newborn at me like a sack of garbage. My parents fell to their knees. Crying. Begging me to take her bastard. Just like that, my future as a promising artist was gone. The neighbors, the priest, my landlord… they all called me a whore. A sinner who had disgraced God. They ran me out of the neighborhood . My life was over. Eighteen years later, Bella waltzed back into my life. A cheap thug with a fake Rolex dangled from her arm. She held my son, crocodile tears streaming down her face. She called me jealous. Accused me of stealing her flesh and blood. Of keeping a mother from her child. And my son? The one I bled myself dry for? The son I poured every last cent into, turning him into a brilliant painter? The son I starved for, so much that I ended up in a hospital bed? The moment he saw his "real" mother, he cast me aside without a second thought. "You pathetic, broke bitch!" he spat. "You stole everything from us! All the happiness that was supposed to be ours!" My parents threw me out like a dog. Bella's thug husband had his men corner me in the red-light district. They pinned me against a wall, their threats vile and clear: Never come back. I had no way out. I threw myself off the Brooklyn Bridge. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back. Eighteen years in the past. Then came the knock. Hell had found my door. I wasn’t going to be the fool who gave everything and got nothing. This time, I took control.

Ever since I got pregnant, my husband hadn’t touched me. However, to my embarrassment, my body had only grown more sensitive. Every night, I would find myself craving for touch, unable to stop my mind from wandering to all kinds of fantasies, that was until the night a masked man broke into my home.

"WOW! Really? Because the last time I checked I am a free woman and I can do whatever I want. So you have no right to tell me who I can dance with or not, or have the right to beat up any guy I am with." I yell "I DON'T CARE! You. Are. Mine! So When I Say No Guy Will Touch You, I Mean No Guy Will Touch You. Because You Are Mine!" he yells back at me _________________________________________________________ Katherine Luciano is a beautiful lady, living with her single mom. She did not know her life would take a different turn the day she goes for a job interview. She meets the one person she wishes she never sees again in her life. The one person who made her high school the worst time of her life, Lorenzo Costanzo. A well-known person in society. He has the looks, the fame, the money, and everything with a lot of mysterious secrets. Does she fall prey to his wrath once again, or change the heart of a cold man?

“Touch her and die.” That’s the first thing Caelum Veyr says to the world after he claims me. I’m no one. A ghost girl in a rotting slum. Unwanted, forgotten, one breath away from death. Until he appears. Violet-eyed, terrifying and kills the man who tried to take me. He says I’m not human, something called a Null. A freak who makes death unravel just by existing. So he forces me into a blood-marriage. Chains me to his supernatural empire., says I belong to him now. The worst part? I want to belong to him. Even though his touch kills, even though every kiss might break the world, even though the prophecy says I’m the end of everything. Now the Death Courts want me erased. The gods fear what I carry, my power is growing. My name is turning divine. And Caelum? He says he’d die for me. Too bad I’d burn the realms for him first.

SYNOPSIS One can touch, but cannot see. One can see, but cannot talk. One can talk, but cannot hear. One can hear, but cannot feel. One can feel, but cannot touch. They're different. Crazy. Weird. Idiot. Fake. Unique. All of you can judge but know their story before you judge them, meet the Highschool Paranormal Club, Five Senses.

“What did you say?” “I said that if you won’t touch me and make me yours, then maybe someone should.” To my surprise, Archie smirked at me and his gaze drifted to my lips. “No one’s ever going to touch you but me, Rosie.” *** Rosie Fay is the daughter of the mafia, so she is used to being surrounded by guns, sulky men, and dangerous deals. But her father thought she shouldn’t lead things after he was gone, so he made a deal and offered her hand in marriage to Archie Donovan. The arranged marriage wasn’t the problem though—Archie was. He treated her well and took care of her, but that’s all their relationship entailed. No romantic strings attached. But they clearly liked each other, so why did he always push her away? As the tension between them intensified, the dangers around the family increased. Was happiness even a possibility for them? Or would the mafia life take that away from her? Daughter of the Mafia is created by Rafaella Dutra, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

The Horror Game invaded the world. Real players entered the game, and their every move would be broadcast live. My adopted son shoved me—an eighty-eight-year-old woman—straight into a deadly dungeon to save his own skin. One of the comments in the live stream predicted: [What? They’re tossing in such an elderly woman? No way she’s gonna survive the first night!] On the first night, a frost-bitten ghost exhaled icy breath in my face. I shrugged off my thick floral coat, feeling sorry for her. “You poor thing! You must be freezing. Listen to me and bundle up quickly!” The second night, a starving ghost lunged at me with blood dripping down his chin. I sniffed the air, then found a jar of pickled cabbage. “Look at how skinny you are! Come on, let me get you something hot to eat.” On the final day, the last surviving players tied me up, desperate to steal the one ticket to escape. However, before they could touch me, every ghost in the dungeon came storming out, cleavers and rolling pins in hand. “Touch her, and you’re dead meat!”