First-Person POV

“Addicting....ARENA ONE is one of those books that you read late into the night until your eyes start to cross because you don't want to put it down." --The Dallas Examiner The sequel to the #1 Bestseller ARENA ONE! In ARENA TWO, having just escaped from the treacherous island that was once Manhattan, Brooke, Ben, Logan, Bree and Rose make their way up the Hudson river in their stolen boat, low on...

A witty, principled young woman starts working at a billionaire’s company and immediately clashes with the arrogant heir. He attempts to humiliate her by marrying her for fun and revenge. She however secretly schemes to turn every situation to her advantage. As he begins to fall hopelessly in love, she divorces him, marries his father, and leaves him completely excluded from the inheritance. Power...

A fateful meeting in deep space.A journey to a distant world to hunt the ultimate game: Dragons.Two young soldiers search for a lost family heirloom.Honeymoon bliss turns into a fight for survival on a remote moon.The Champion of Light battles the Champion of Dark to determine the fate of the universe.Tales of Adventure is a collection of five science fiction and fantasy novelettes and novellas: P...

When that dealer tortured me, my dad, a narcotics cop, and my mom, the city’s chief medical examiner, were busy celebrating my sister’s win in the volleyball semifinals. To get back at my dad for destroying his drug network three years earlier, that man cut my throat. Right before I died, I called my dad. Before I hung up, he said, “Cut it out. Serena’s game is what mattered most right now.”

I hid in my best friend's closet to catch my fiancé cheating.
Through the gap in the door, I saw them on the bed. Tessa was blindfolded, wrists tied to the headboard with silk scarves. Callum's hands wrapped around her throat—some kind of breath play, I guessed.
Then her moaning turned to choking.
Her body convulsed. Her bound hands clawed at nothing. Her legs kicked against the mattress.
Then sto...

The dealership called to inform me that my Rolls-Royce Starlight Headliner had been replaced with a pink one and was ready for pickup.
I was bewildered. I hadn't driven that car in ages—why would anyone change the headliner without my knowledge?
I confronted my husband, who managed our garage, demanding an explanation.
"Honey, maybe they got their wires crossed. I'll swing by the dealership later ...