Where Did Blackbeard Die Novels & Stories

I had poured my heart into planning the perfect wedding—for my female client. Then I turned a corner and saw her kissing my boyfriend at the stairwell. He chuckled softly. "No wonder you're my wife. You're stunning." She let out a soft laugh. "Your little secret girlfriend still does not know you're marrying me. She actually wished me happiness—can you believe it? So… when are you planning to tell her?" He tilted her chin and said, "Didn't we agree? Once we're married, we each live our own lives. Teresa is the love of my life. I hope you'll keep your mouth shut." She gave a snort of laughter and yanked playfully on his tie. "Relax, babe. As long as you keep treating me right, I won't stir up trouble." I felt like I had plunged into an ice bath. Face pale, hands trembling, I picked up my phone and texted my mentor: [I'm ready to take the transfer to Luminous City.] The reply came not long after: [Three days from now. We'll go together.]

"Darby.” My name comes out as a low snarl and I struggle to think. “I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Alpha.”"That's how I like you.” This almost purrs. He shifts his weight to the thigh between mine, brushing against my clit and I tremble as agonizing pleasure spirals through me. His nostrils flare with his next breath and the purr is a low sensual growl. “The better to see to every pleasurable need you have.”Big bad devilishly sexy wolf. Oh shit.

Sandra, also known as Ruby, is a young women who meets a popular rock-star. She feels a strong connection with him even though she is engaged. As she progresses with both relationships her world is turned upside down. Both men in her life know the truth about who and what she really is. Once the truth is revealed she is now forced to pick not only a lover, but a life style. One where she lives amongst the supernatural, and the other as a normal woman who knows the truth but can never involve herself in their affairs. Which will she choose, and does she really have a choice in the matter as her role in all of this is bigger than she could imagine. Where does her heart belong, with her old life or her new one.

I was the heiress switched at birth by a nanny. It was not until I turned eighteen that my biological parents finally found me, and traded me back for the girl they had raised and loved as their own. However, fate played a cruel joke that very same week. My parents died in a car accident. The family business collapsed. In one night, I lost everything. My older brother survived, but his kidneys failed. I did not hesitate. I gave him mine. However, grief broke something in him. Blaming me for our parents' deaths, he spiraled into madness. "You killed Mom and Dad! Why wasn't it you who died instead?" he screamed. I gave up college and took on three jobs a day just to pay for his treatment. Years passed. One day, while cleaning a mansion as a housekeeper, I saw her, the "sister" I was traded for, gliding through a lavish party, dressed in designer clothes and dripping in jewels. I froze when I heard the voices I had long thought silenced. My parents, alive, speaking to her as gently as ever: "Jasmine, you're so compassionate… agreeing to end Helen's punishment early." My brother, the one who should still be seeing a therapist, frowned and objected. "No. Not even a day less. Just because she suffers a little doesn't mean she deserves to live." I glanced down at the medical report still warm in my hands. For the first time in years, I smiled. "Perfect," I whispered. "Now I can finally die like I wanted to."

When it became known that Rose would have to marry Eugene Wright, the son of one of the most successful businessmen worldwide, she tried everything in her power to stop the engagement, but all in vain. Once her father signed the business transaction to wed his daughter as the agreement, Eugene, who is known to be heartless when it comes to love relationships, made her an offer that would help them both in their current situation. Now the problem lies in will she be able to play her part in their act?

I, Darcy Cowell, have been secretly married to my husband, Frank Winston, for seven years. He is the president of a company and has just hired a new assistant. The new assistant, Johanna Scott, is well-behaved and has a voluptuous figure. Scandalous rumors about her and Frank quickly spread throughout the company. Feeling uneasy, I seek Frank out for answers, only to overhear him telling his good friend over the phone. "I'm not interested in her. My wife, Darcy, will always be my only love." I am filled with warmth and relief at those words. A fire suddenly breaks out at the company banquet, and I get crushed under a falling cabinet. Yet, as my life hangs in the balance, Frank turns to run toward Johanna. When I next regain consciousness, I find that I have survived but lost my unborn child forever. This time, I truly lose all faith in Frank. Our child is gone, and I want him gone from my life as well.

On the day of Lucas' engagement, he managed to get a few lackeys to keep me occupied, and by the time I stepped out the police station, done with questioning, it was already dark outside. Arriving home, I stood there on the doorstep and eavesdropped on Lucas and his friends talking about me. "I was afraid she'd cause trouble, so I got her to spend the whole day at the police station. I made sure that everything would be set in stone by the time she got out." Shaking my head with a bitter laugh, I blocked all of Lucas' contacts and went overseas without any hesitation. That night, Lucas lost all his composure, kicking over a table and smashing a bottle of liquor, sending glass shards flying all over the floor. "She's just throwing a tantrum because she's jealous… She'll come back once she gets over it…" What he didn't realize, then, was that this wasn't just a fit of anger or a petty tantrum. This time, I truly didn't want him anymore.

Everyone knows Francesco Greco, heir to the largest mafia family in Solerio, is a notorious playboy. Yet when he swears to God that he'll love me for the rest of his life, I choose to believe him. He lives up to his words during the first year of our marriage. The Greco heir, whose presence alone terrorizes others, clings to me like a loyal puppy at home. But by the second year, he starts returning home with one lover after another. Rumors of his scandalous affairs spread, and I become the laughingstock of Solerio. On our eighth anniversary, his 99th lover taunts me in front of everyone at dinner. "Don't sleep in the master bedroom tonight," she says. "Mr. Greco and I are going to have some fun there. Also, change the sheets. I can't stand how dirty your things are." Everyone expects me to break down under such humiliation. Instead, I smile and turn on my heel. Then, I dial Madre Greco's number. "Madre, it's been eight years," I say, my voice steady. "It's time for me to leave."

In the VIP lounge of an underground casino, Maeve, the Falcone family's princess, had been plied with too much hard liquor. Fueled by alcohol, someone goaded her into revealing the most shameless thing she'd ever done to win over the Don. She swirled her glass, pointed at me dealing cards behind the table, and threw her head back with a laugh. "Seven years ago, when Declan was in a coma after a shootout, I took his private phone. And I deleted the distress message that bitch sent him. Every last trace of it. Then I replied in his name: You're a burden. Go die." "You'll never guess what happened next. That idiot stood outside the safe house all night in a downpour, like a stray dog. I almost died laughing…" The room erupted in crude laughter. Only the man enthroned at the head of the table remained silent. The crystal whiskey glass in his hand shattered with a sharp crack. Blood mixed with the amber liquor, trickling over the veins on the back of his hand before dripping onto the carpet. His murderous, bloodshot eyes were locked on me. I calmly dealt the last hole card in front of him and offered a clean, white silk handkerchief. "Don Declan, you should wipe your hand. Blood on the felt is bad luck." After all, some stains never wash out.

“See, malyshka, you walk in here wearing that little skirt and dare to talk about modesty?” I glanced down at my blazer skirt, heat crawling up my neck as his gaze dragged over my legs. “If I weren’t your patient…” He turned slightly, gesturing to the examination bed, his voice dropped dangerously low, “I'd put you right there and demonstrate… “Mr. Ferrari!” I snapped, leaping to my feet, my heartbeat pounding in my ear now. I had never met a man as vulgar, audacious, and devastatingly magnetic as Gideon Ferrari, especially not one wearing a hospital gown. My first therapy session with the sex-addict patient who should have been a simple case… became the moment my ordinary world spinned off its axis. I wasn’t supposed to think of him. I wasn’t supposed to dream of him. And I definitely wasn’t supposed to wake up breathless, aching, and ashamed of how desperately I wanted him. I prayed I’d never see him again. But part of me wondered, hoped, if he’d ever cross my path once more. When he did, everything changed. It became clear that there was more to this infuriating gorgeous Russian than meets the eye. He seemed too willingly to carry my weight and I had deep wounds from the past that needed healing but the problem was, he's already taken. Will we get away with satisfying our deepest dark desires in secret or will he eventually step up and claim me as his forever?