Whispering Echoes

In Black Salt, love is a sickness you can’t hide—a slow gnawing beneath the skin that leaves you hollowed, grayed, and eventually gone. No one stays long enough to see it through; they leave before the rot finishes its work. It’s what the town teaches you: when it starts, you run. You look away. You survive by pretending not to feel. But Atlas is tired of pretending. The halls of Black Salt High are full of kids pretending they don’t see each other’s bruised hearts, pretending their bones aren’t already whispering warnings. Still, he can’t forget the weight of a father who stayed—not out of love, but because he never felt it deep enough to decay. That truth lingers in Atlas like a second shadow. And then there’s Nova—the outsider with a storm in her bones. And Wren, all sharpness and fight. Milo, who cracks jokes to keep the silence at bay. Luce, who wears her thorns like jewelry. Together, they don’t know how to stop the rot. But they’re learning how to sit with it, how to name it, how to refuse the small, hollow deaths of pretending not to care. In a town where love is a death sentence, staying might be the bravest thing of all.

I caught my fiancé, Nico Falcone, in bed with my own cousin, Bianca Rossi. Right before our wedding. When I confronted him, he just called the whole thing off and ran me out of New York. I didn’t see him again for five years. Then came the charity gala for the New York Families. There he was. Nico. He pulled me aside, saying he felt bad for the state I was in. He offered to make me his mistress. I told him to go to hell. He got ugly. The whole room was laughing. Whispering how an outcast like me had no business showing my face in New York. I clenched my fists, the sound of their mockery ringing in my ears. Just then, the entire ballroom went dead silent. Every head bowed in respect. Don Lucas, the most feared man in New York, was walking slowly toward us. He stopped right in front of me. With the whole room watching, he dropped to one knee. He took my hand—the one Nico had squeezed red—and kissed it. His voice was dangerously low. “Who hurt my future wife?”

Hanan think things that she shouldn't. She dream things that she shouldn't. She want things that she shouldn't and its all because of one thing. Because she do care about him, she do crave him, she yearn for his love, her eyes are so tempted by his smile,her lips whispering secrets of a forbidden love, A love she know that she can never have it which is the one that last the longest,hurt the deepest and feel strongest, She couldn't shake off this forbidden feeling that she had unconverted, a love she know she can never have so she decided to keep her desire deep inside her. Watching and loving him from afar and only then Hanan know that there is nothing worse than knowing you want something, besides knowing you can never have it. It was such an afflictive desires yet she never know that her desire will be fulfill but as the saying goes for every deepest desire to be fulfill it must come with a great sacrifice. And for hanan she have to sacrifice her happiness, she have to go through a lot of pains to make her desires come to life.

I lifted my head from Rhys's arms, his strong chest rising and falling against my cheek. Silk sheets tangled around our naked bodies, the air thick with the scent of our passion. After a passionate night with my childhood friend, the Mafia heir, I was jolted awake at three in the morning by the shrill ring of a phone. It was the Don, ordering me to bring Rhys back to the estate for an arranged marriage. I figured it was just another heiress trying to claw her way into the Griffin family, so I kissed his forehead, pressing myself against him and whispering with a low laugh. "Rhys, what's your plan for this boring princess?" He arched an eyebrow, wrapping a lazy arm around my waist. "Baby, make sure you pick out a good tie for me. I need to make a good impression on my future father-in-law." Seeing me freeze, Rhys sat up and shot me a casual glance, his voice laced with indifference. "Maeve, what's with that reaction? We're just having fun." "You didn't actually think you were going to be the next Donna of the Griffin family, did you?"

Freeda James steps into her wedding with her heart set on the man she trusts. But before the ceremony even gets going, she catches him whispering to another woman that marrying her is just a formality. So Freeda does the only thing that feels right. She leaves him standing at the altar. Word gets around fast. The embarrassment hits even harder. And Randy Owen? He doesn’t know how to lose. He figures she’ll come crawling back once she faces the mess she’s made. But, she doesn’t. Instead, people start spotting her with the last person Randy ever wanted her to see: his rival, Scott Baley. Sticking close to Scott means Freeda doesn’t have to put up with pity, or let anyone push her around, or fade into the background. But it also drags her into a fight she never asked for. She’s caught between a man who won’t let go and another who never planned on wanting her in the first place. Because leaving was just the start. And Randy Owen isn’t the type to let someone walk away.

Sequel of 'Set Me Free', hope everyone enjoys reading this book as much as they liked the previous one. “What is your name?” A deep voice of a man echoes throughout the poorly lit room. Daniel, who is cuffed to a white medical bed, can barely see anything. Small beads of sweat are pooling on his forehead due to the humidity and hot temperature of the room. His blurry vision keeps on roaming around the trying to find the one he has been looking for forever. Isabelle, the only reason he is holding on, all this pain he is enduring just so that he could see her once he gets out of this place. “What is your name?!” The man now loses his patience and brings up the electrodes his temples and gives him a shock. Daniel screams and throws his legs around and pulls on his wrists hard but it doesn’t work. The man keeps on holding the electrodes to his temples to make him suffer more and more importantly to damage his memories of her. But little did he know the only thing that is keeping Daniel alive is the hope of meeting Isabelle one day. “Do you know her?” The man holds up a photo of Isabelle in front of his face and stops the shocks. “Yes, she is my Isabelle.” A small smile appears on his lips while his eyes close shut.

She had a name. A life. A village. But war took it all—her home reduced to ash, her family swallowed by silence. Now, thrust into a world she doesn’t understand, Elira finds herself caught between the haunting remnants of her past and the uncertain promises of her future. When she crosses paths with —the enigmatic CEO whose presence is as commanding as it is mysterious—he offers her what seems like salvation: a new life, a chance to belong, and freedom disguised as marriage. It feels like safety. It feels like peace. But just when she dares to believe she’s found something normal, the echoes of her blood begin to stir. Relics of her past rise from the shadows, not only to whisper of who she was... but of what she’s becoming. What she doesn't know is that The mysterious CEO , too, carries a past soaked in secrets—one that binds him to her fate more tightly than either of them could have imagined. As forgotten powers awaken and ancient truths claw their way back into the light, the two must face a destiny drenched in betrayal, bloodlines, and a love that might break the world—or save it. This is not just a journey of discovery. This is a reckoning. And it begins with the remnants of alpha’s blood.

“You should end things with him.” A husky deep voice echoes from the darkness. I freeze in place, his thick Russian accent sent shivers down my spine. I could only make out his large form from the dim lights of the smoking area. “H-how long have you been standing there?” I shivered, not from the cold but from an unsettling feeling. He chuckles richly causing my heart rate to quicken as I watch a small flicker of light before smoke puffs out into the air. “Go inside, krasotka it’s too cold for that little dress of yours...” ******** Josephine Beaumont would’ve never imagined that working as a personal nurse for a wealthy French businessman would entangle her into a deadly web of mafia rivalries. Struggling with financial issues and a toxic relationship, she catches the attention of the dangerous and ruthless Russian pakhan, Sasha Romanov and a deep dark obsession brews takes root in his heart. He stalks her every move with burning desire and manipulates their meeting in the pretense of fate, pulling her into the dangerous dark world of the mafia. Delve into this dark, steamy mafia romance filled with obsession, power, and high-stakes danger, BRATVA'S OBSESSION will leave you breathless and craving more.

Many parts of the story has mature scenes. Read at your discretion. "Your pussy is such a slut, little one." His deep baritone echoes as he trace a wet line through my clit. "Yes, yes." I let out, my hips squirming as I cling to him. My professor. “So…slimy with juices. My fingers ain’t even inside yet.” I swallow hard at his words, my face flushing red as my hunger grows. “Tell me, little one. How many fingers do you want inside you?” “Two. Please give me…two, professor.” Is all I manage to say as he thrust two fingers inside me and immediately his eyes changed. ___ One minute Rain was nursing her heartbreak with several shots. The next she finds herself in an alley with a hot stranger. It was a long night of moans, thrust and need. The following morning Rain finds out the hot stranger from the previous night is her new professor. He's larger than life. One look at him shows he's power personified but there's this disturbing secret about him. Yet Rain is so much attracted she can't resist. How long will it take her to figure out she's just a bait in a plot for revenge?

It is the third year of my marriage when the video of my bodyguard, Julian Sutherland, holding an umbrella over me in a downpour goes viral. Overnight, the internet becomes obsessed with the "Icy Protector and his Forbidden Heiress." Netizens are relentless; they dig through the archives until they unearth a ten-year-old clip. In the video, a girl was holding a pair of high-heeled shoes while sprinting through the Folander airport. My friend teased, "No way, Ms. Serina Brown. Are you really flying back home to confess to that poor man? What could you possibly see in him?" The camera shakes, capturing my youthful face. I was just a reckless 20-year-old. "I love Julian. I love everything about him." That night, after seeing the video, Julian loses his composure and bursts into my room. "I didn't know you loved me back then. I thought… I thought… God, it was never supposed to end like this." I pull my coat around me and stand rooted on the spot, remaining silent. Suddenly, a mocking laugh echoes from behind me. Someone places their hand firmly on my waist and says, "Are you trying to reminisce about your love with my wife right in front of me? Do I look dead to you?"