Why Are They Called The Peaky Blinders

Year 2030, strange phenomenon called Red Cumulus drops an acid rain that created ferocious monster from the stream, the Fluxter. Nature was forced mankind to fight them that appear on every continent of the world. A company named Sovereignty pronounce big plan to save mankind from the rain of Red Cumulus and Fluxter. They created giant shelter called Dorm to take cover from acid rain, and make an army called Herrscher to fight against Fluxter. Cornelio Halozy and the member of Squad 105 start their journey as the Herrscher to defeat Fluxter and save the world. Nature's wrath and human's top army are fighting to reclaim world's authorization.

When the mission ends, the real war begins. Captain Jack McCormack has lost everything that mattered. His partner, Lieutenant Michelle Richards, was killed during a covert operation in Iraq—her death a brutal reminder that even the best can fall. Months later, his ASIO team—friends, family in all but name—were systematically executed during a routine bonding session at a suburban paintball park. It wasn’t an accident. It was a message. Now isolated and hollowed out by grief, Jack tries to disappear into the shadows. But when a dangerous new synthetic drug called Supernatural starts flooding the city streets, he’s forced back into action. Jack knows this drug. He’s seen what it can do—what it did before, in a mission buried so deep it was meant to stay forgotten. With ASIO compromised and political forces tying his hands, Jack turns to the only people he can trust—his retired SAS brothers, elite operators with scars of their own. Together, they launch a black-ops investigation to uncover who’s behind Supernatural… and why the same shadows keep reaching into their past. But some ghosts aren’t just memories. Some are still alive.

What's that saying about never looking a gift horse in the mouth? Well, I did. I looked it straight in the eyes, after I called it a moron, drooled a little, remembered I hate the oposite sex and then I ran. The life I have had changed the moment my mother passed. The life I struggled to adapt to after college tore me apart emotionally. I thought he was my saviour. He helped me grieve. He was there when I didn't want him to be, when I didn't know I needed him to be. He was everywhere and nowhere all at the same time. He fought my demons with me and for me, he watched me and over me. He creeped me out, but made me feel safe in many ways, so tell me why this specific gift came with only one stipulation. Who hurt me? The gift horse would be Lorenzo Russo. Empire builder and underground Mafia man. He's a smart man with good charms and psychopathic tendencies who ensures he gets what he wants, so he doesn't take kindly to being told no. By me.

Grandma lay bedridden, her dementia taking hold as she repeated Scarlett Hayes's name over and over. Tears streamed down my face as I dialed my wife's number. When she picked up, Scarlett sounded irritated. She said she was working late tonight and would call me back when she was free. I could clearly hear the sound of a man's laughter in the background. The moment I hung up, Grandma gasped sharply. She called out my wife's name. It was her last breath. While I sat drowning in grief, Scarlett's male best friend Chase Morrison posted a video update, geotagged at a couples' hotel. In the video, their fingers were laced together. The woman's arm bore a distinctive black mole I recognized instantly. The caption read: "When two hearts become one, why care what anyone else thinks?" In that moment, my heart turned to ash. I gritted my teeth and left a comment. "Let's file for divorce tomorrow. Then you two can be together openly and legally. You'll even save on the hotel fees. Win-win, right?"

The housekeeper, who was always punctual, was late today. "Madam, I'm so sorry… dinner isn't ready yet. Please don't be upset with me…" "But this time, there was no helping it. I waited downstairs for over half an hour, and no one swiped in. I even called Mr. Gregory, but he didn't answer. That's why I'm late." My hand froze mid-motion as I was changing shoes, and a frown creased my brow. "Lydia," I said, "didn't I have Richard give you the access card?" Lydia Pendel froze, her face blank. "Access card? Mr. Gregory never gave me one." "Never?" I repeated. "Yes," she said, wiping the sweat from her forehead, her voice careful. "All this past month, I've been sneaking in whenever another resident opened the door, or calling Mr. Gregory so he could let me in. "Today, Mr. Gregory didn't answer at all, so I was stuck downstairs, feeling helpless…" That was strange. Because over the past month, the electronic lock on the front gate had clearly recorded swipes from that backup card.

I knew my husband, Josh Perkins, had faked his death and taken on his younger twin brother's identity—but I never said a word. Instead, I went straight to the commander of the military district and filed an official report of my husband's death, requesting his name be permanently removed from the service rolls. In my last life, my brother-in-law died in an accident. Josh gave up his rank as regimental commander, abandoned his own name, and stepped into his brother's shoes—all to spare his fragile sister-in-law from becoming a widow. Back then, I recognized him immediately. I confronted him and demanded to know why he was pretending to be a dead man. But Josh just looked through me, cold as a winter morning. "Riley, I know you're grieving Josh. But I'm not him. Don't mistake me for my brother." He shielded that delicate sister-in-law of his behind him, then shoved me into the icy river and warned me not to harbor delusions. Later, our five-year-old daughter cried, asking why her daddy didn't want her anymore. For that, she was dragged to the cowshed for "reflection"—left there, starving, for three days and nights. My mother-in-law called me a curse, a jinx who'd killed her son, and threw my daughter and me out with nothing but the clothes on our backs. Josh made sure everyone knew I'd "gone mad"—that I was lusting after my brother-in-law before my husband was even cold in the ground. The whole town turned their backs on us. That last winter, I wandered the streets with my girl, dazed and numb, until the cold finally took us both. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the very day Josh buried his old life and stole his brother's.

Yvonne Larson, my housekeeper, has always been punctual, but she ends up being late today. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Carter. Dinner's not ready yet. I hope you won't mind. I had no choice. I waited for over half an hour, but no one got the door for me. I even called Mrs. Carter a few times, but she didn't take my calls. That's why I ended up running late." Halfway through changing into my house slippers, I pause and frown. "Yvonne, didn't Susanna give you the access card to the apartment?" Yvonne looks confused. "The access card? Mrs. Carter never gave me any card." "Never?" "That's right," Yvonne confirms timidly while wiping the sweat off her brow. "For the past month, I've always had to call Mrs. Carter and ask her to open the door for me. She wasn't picking up her phone today, so I had to wait outside…" That's strange. I've checked the logs before. The access card has been used multiple times throughout the past month.

Year XX26 when a plane had gone missing. No one has heard from it since then. Search parties were called off and passengers were declared dead. People tried calling out to them through their phones. They hear it ring but no one answers. Nathalia Trayce's father was on that plane and she's determined to find out where or what exactly happened to him; by going to the place that her father was suppose to go. Hoping to find more clues, she boarded a plane passing through the Pacific Ocean when an unexpected thing happened; their plane crashed and they suddenly found themselves in an underwater land. The Atlantis, where they found out that they were responsible for the missing planes in order to save them from the government. At least, those who posses Atlantean genes - a superior gene that help improve their physical and mental abilities. But why can Nathalie hear the thoughts of sea creatures - an ability that is suppose to be for Byron, who's the said reincarnated demigod? Trained by an Atlantean general named Skyr, and learning that her ex-bestfriend, Trei, was actually one of the Atlantean rebels. Nathalia had to choose which side to take. Or in her case, who to believe.

TAKEN. She found it hard to resist him and neither did her wedding ring. People called it cheating, she called him a meaningful tool. A blissful marriage with a masculine attraction. What a distraction! "No one has to know" he said to her too.

I came to Hawaii chasing sun, surf, and freedom. Instead, I woke up drugged, locked in a cage, and halfway across the world. They said I was payment for a debt I never owed. They called me a gift for Valiente Cárdenas, Mexico’s most ruthless cartel king. He never asked for me. He didn’t want me. But the moment I fought back, I caught his dangerous attention… and sealed my fate. I should be plotting escape every second his gaze burns into me. Yet every time he calls me “Little Red,” my body betrays me. The most terrifying truth? Part of me is already forgetting why I ever wanted to run. “Why do you always call me that?” I whispered. He grinned, fingers twisting in my soft curls. “Because you turn bright red every time you hear the word ‘fuck.’” ☾⋆⁺₊✧✧✧✧✧₊⁺⋆☽ ⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️ This is a dark romance with extreme, explicit, and disturbing content. It explores intense power imbalances, obsession, and taboo fantasies. It is not a representation of healthy relationships or real-life consent. The story contains or leads into: * Abduction/kidnapping. * Prolonged captivity and imprisonment. * Psychological manipulation and gaslighting. * Extreme dominance and submission. * Bondage and restraint (ropes, chains, collars, leashes) * Impact play (spanking, flogging, whipping) * Forced voyeurism via mirrors. * Orgasm control/denial/edging. * Rough and graphic sexual content (including oral, anal, and more) * Trauma, fear, helplessness. * Obsessive/possessive behavior. * Revenge-driven hatred. * Family betrayal, and mild paranormal elements (ghostly whispers and apparitions). This is fiction for adults who enjoy dark, taboo fantasies. Real-life BDSM requires safe, sane, consensual practices with safewords and aftercare—none of which are consistently present here. If any of these themes are triggering, please skip this book. Your mental health comes first. xoxo, SarahBlythe 🖤