3759 Book(s) Related to how to catch a bad boy

I’d just gotten home from my prenatal checkup when I heard my sister-in-law Valentina’s voice.

"Brother, if Rosalyn finds out Leon is the stillborn child she gave birth to, will she fight me for custody?"

I froze on the spot.

Four years ago, my husband Lysander and I had a baby via IVF, but the infant passed away shortly after birth. I’d cried my heart out back then, and it was Lysander who held me close, comforting me over and over.

"Don’t grieve. We’ll have another child someday."

Four years later, I was finally expecting our second baby. Yet now I’d overheard that my first child had never died at all — he was Valentina’s son, Leon.

I simply couldn’t bring myself to believe it. Just as I reached for the door, Lysander’s voice rang out again.

"Don’t worry. Rosalyn will never find out I secretly swapped her egg for yours. Even the child she’s carrying now is our love child."

“You are going to suck my dick like a good girl.” He commanded, slapping his dick on my already stick out tongue. I wrapped my full lips around him and began bobbing my head up and down.

“I am going to cum but I still need to fuck your little pussy so good.” He pulled out of my mouth and pushed me down onto the bed.

“Fuck, you are so wet and dripping.” He groaned when he pressed his dick to my entrance, rubbing up and down my folds and coating it with the juice leaking out of me.

“Oh my goodness.” I breathed, instantly felt full. He was so damn big.


Evelin was forced into sheltering at the mafia Don safe house when her family was attacked and her father sent to prison under suspicion circumstances. She has to share space with the mafia heir, next Don Anthony Vincenzo. He was known as the Devil himself and pussy hunter.

When she becomes suspicious of the attack on her family, she begins a dangerous road to find answers. But what is more dangerous for her; the mafia Don or the truth someone desperately doesn't want her to find?

At first, I thought I was the luckiest woman in the world, at least maybe the sacrifices I had made over the past five years would pay off.
But I was wrong. I was just a replacement for Luna, whom no one ever wanted.
I was abandoned by Alpha, my husband, on our fifth wedding anniversary, for the woman who had left him.
What hurt even more was that the child I had raised with all my heart and soul ran into the arms of her biological mother, as if I had never meant anything to his.
Rejected, discarded, and cast out-all of it destroyed me. It felt as if the whole world had rejected me.
But just when I was about to disappear, fate brought me to the beginning of a resurrection I never imagined.

Archer, Lucas, and Tristan Black are the triplet Alphas of the WhiteFang Pack, a title that carries both honor and responsibility. They are known not only for their strength and leadership skills but also for their unbreakable bond with each other. Since childhood, they have faced countless challenges together, from mastering their combat skills to navigating the complexities of inter-pack relations. Their connection goes beyond mere brotherhood; it is a profound alliance forged through shared experiences and mutual respect. One of their closest allies is Loren Hughes, the Alpha of the Blue Crescent Moon Pack. Loren, renowned for his intelligence and strategic mind, has been a trusted friend to the Black triplets for many years. The two packs have cultivated a relationship built on loyalty, cooperation, and shared goals, often joining forces to confront external threats and protect their territories. Their meetings are filled with not only discussions of tactics and strategies but also laughter and camaraderie, reflecting the deep mutual respect they hold for one another. Together, the Black brothers and Loren navigate the complicated dynamics of pack politics, striving for peace and unity in a world often fraught with rivalry. As they face ongoing challenges, their friendship serves as a formidable foundation, reminding everyone that strength lies not just in power but also in the bonds we create with those around us. Their journey is a testament to the enduring power of loyalty and friendship in the ever-evolving landscape of werewolf society.

She cursed the Demon King. He has spent centuries hunting her.
Maeve has no memory of the life that made her the most wanted witch in the Lore. She only knows she has never stayed in one place for long and that monsters seem to find her wherever she runs. Then a stranger walks into her shop. He was cold and beautiful and very very dangerous. The Demon King.
One kiss is enough for King Eldon to realize the impossible. His greatest enemy has returned. She is the witch who cursed him in another lifetime. The woman who stole his future, shattered his kingdom and vanished before he could make her pay.
She remembers nothing. But demons only recognize their true mate after the bond is tested and every instinct tells Eldon she might be the one fate has denied him for centuries. He swore he would never forgive her. She swore she would never belong to a demon.
Now the only woman who can save his kingdom may also be the one destined to destroy it again.

BOOK 2 in Mated to my Ruin series. Can be read as standalone.
BOOK 1–Mated to my Ruin: A Dragon’s Debt

Tara was married to a scheming husband who is a wolf. She is unaware of her husband's identity. He hates her for being an ordinary woman
On their second anniversary, he sold her to Gaston for a one-night stand. She had sex with Gaston thinking it was Chad. Something changed in her and started demanding sex from her husband because of the way Gaston handled her.
She got pregnant and her husband hated her more and threw abusive words at her and started showing off her girlfriend who is her mate.

Sable Cross has one rule left standing after eight years of chasing supernatural skips for cash under the trade name Wraith, don't take a job that isn't already half finished, and don't ask too many questions about what your target actually is until the payment clears.

She breaks both rules on what is supposed to be her very last bounty, a routine skip trace that turns into a dead sprint through downtown alleys when her target shifts, mid chase, into something with claws and considerably more teeth than the file photo suggested.

She survives the night only because a stranger built like a small apocalypse steps directly between her and a very large wolf and ends the confrontation without breaking a sweat, and she survives the following morning only because that same stranger, Kieran Sinclair, decides not to have her memory wiped or her body disposed of, the two standard options for humans who accidentally witness the world Sable just fell into.

Kieran does not explain, at first, why he already knows her name, her birthday, and the exact street corner where her family was murdered when she was seven years old.

He does not explain, either, why an old, patient dread has been sitting behind his eyes since the moment he recognized her face in that alley.

What he offers instead is a job, considerably better paid than skip tracing, considerably more dangerous, and requiring her to pose as his fiancée at a gathering of packs that includes the same faction responsible for burning her childhood pack to the ground.

Sable came looking for one last payday.

I was reborn. My younger brother stole the woman who had lost her leg and was blind, thinking he had seized the throne of the apocalypse.
He didn't know that her power in her past life stemmed from the pendant on my chest—which contained a fountain of life.
This time, I'm not a savior. I'm handing the spring over to the nation.
The Pentagon has given me a new designation: National Assets.
While the younger brother was being beaten up by his neighbor for a half-empty can of cola, the National Guard's superhumans had already begun clearing out the infected.
He called, his voice hoarse: "Her superpower is only enough to chill a glass of cola... You tricked me?"
I hung up the phone and went into the lab.
"What's the extraction rate of the spiritual spring water today?"

Ever since Her Majesty the Queen fell gravely ill, the entire dragon realm had been teetering on the brink of collapse.
In that precarious moment, it was I who held the throne together, heartbroken yet unyielding.
I depleted my magic without reservation to repair the realm's protective barriers, working through endless nights to brew life-sustaining elixirs for the Queen.
Yet when the Dragon Legion finally drove back the abyssal demons, what awaited me wasn't victory—it was a fatal blade.
My magic was shredded apart. The soul core in my chest was ripped out by a pair of familiar hands.
In my final moments, I saw the face of the one holding the knife.
My newly wedded husband, Drystan.
And beside him, pulled tight against his chest, was my half-sister Vespera.
"You're brilliant, Vespera." Drystan turned the faintly glowing core over in his palm. "A single forged love letter, and this fool willingly died defending our dying realm. Now even her core is mine."
Vespera nestled against him, emerald eyes glittering with greed. "Once you absorb this power, we'll return to the throne together. You'll still be the Empire's Crown Prince, and I'll wear the Crown Princess's coronet. As is only right."
Amid this sickening pledge of betrayal, I drew my last breath.
When I opened my eyes again, cold gray stone vaulting stared back at me.
I had returned to the day news of Drystan's death in battle reached the capital.
One glance toward the corner of the great hall told me everything.
That man stood there wearing a cold iron mask, posing as my dear sister Vespera's sworn personal knight.
You want to drain me dry? Steal my soul core?
Dream on.

When I was nine months pregnant, my husband, Torin, forced doctors to extract my baby's cord blood to save his ex-wife's son. My baby died of suffocation ten minutes after birth, right before my eyes.
Instigated by his biological mother, my stepson sneaked into my room late at night and poured silver powder all over me. My skin rotted; the scars would last forever.
Later, the hospital ward caught fire, cutting off my escape. On the brink of life and death, Torin glanced back at me, scooped up his ex-wife, and walked into the safe zone without looking back.
Even later, he knelt in the ruins, hands dripping with blood, digging through the rubble brick by brick.
Until his subordinate stepped up behind him and choked out, "Alpha... we found the Luna's body."

My boyfriend Jams was poor, but he insisted on spoiling his Golden Retriever.
The dog ate premium raw meat; we ate expired discount bento boxes.
The dog slept in a custom climate-controlled kennel; we squeezed into a leaky trailer.
James always said, "Max is our baby, we can't let him suffer."
To make ends meet, I took a second job waitressing at an exclusive country club.
Only to see James sitting there in a bespoke suit, a stunning woman leaning on his shoulder.
Olivia Sterling. New York old money, James's childhood family friend, and the woman rumored to be his arranged fiancé.
A $10,000 bottle of Burgundy sat on the table as he casually fed A5 Wagyu to Max.
"Honestly, James," Olivia giggled, twirling her diamond necklace. "The dog gets better treatment than your dates."
"Don't be jealous," he smirked, handing her a black Amex. "Buy whatever makes you happy."
Looking at my faded uniform and my dish-water-ruined hands, the cruel joke finally clicked.
He wasn't poor. He was just testing me.
In his eyes, his pet deserved royalty, while I deserved to scrub floors.
So, I dropped my serving tray and walked away forever.

Here is the English translation, tailored to match the gritty, dramatic, and satisfying tone typical of apocalyptic revenge web novels:

In my previous life, I was drained to the bone by the so-called "Doomsday Evolution System," forced to watch as my best friend and fiancée stepped over my corpse to scavenge my supplies.

When I opened my eyes again, I had regressed to exactly three days before the apocalypse. When that faint blue, glowing "cheat" materialized once more, I decisively took a step back, watching my enemies fanatically claim it for themselves. They thought they had grasped the key to ruling the doomsday. Little did they know, they had just swallowed a parasite that would devour its host.

Then, the extreme cold descended, and toxic spores blotted out the sky.

Using my knowledge of the future, I struck a deal with a female black-market boss, packing an underground bunker with tons of supplies and heavy firepower. Sipping hot coffee in front of the control room monitors, I sat back and enjoyed the show. I watched my enemies be systematically stripped of their sanity, sacrifice their companions, and ultimately degenerate into mindless, mutated lumps of flesh driven only by base instincts.

In this man-eating apocalypse, I refuse to touch any bizarre parasitic "gifts." Thick alloy doors and an endless supply of ammunition—that is the only true law of survival in the wasteland.

Three years ago, my fiancé Asher stole my project achievements for his white moonlight Chloe and abandoned me cruelly.
Three years later, he returned arrogantly, ordering me to tidy up my villa, accept his mistress, and humble myself to apologize. He even humiliated me with a mistress contract.
A vicious supporting female system suddenly bound to me, forcing me to fawn on Asher, yield to Chloe, and end up miserable and jealous according to the fixed script.
But I refused to submit to fate.
I only want a peaceful and free life with my husband and my daughter.
I have never been a side character in anyone’s story. I am my own sole protagonist.

I was once known as "The Divine Hand," the youngest Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery in history.

I didn't just perform surgeries, I invented them. However, after a high-profile operation on my own mentor went tragically wrong, leaving him in a vegetative state, my mother made me swear a blood oath.

“Your hands bring both life and ruin. Never touch a scalpel again, or the guilt will consume you forever.”

I traded my surgical scrubs for a floral apron. I married Lucian, a famous business tycoon my mother had selected.

For five years, I spent my days in the kitchen, meticulously preparing meals that were precisely calibrated medicinal formulas that cured his heart murmur and made him the top-performing executive in the city.

However, on our fifth anniversary, Lucian didn't bring flowers or gifts. Instead, he threw the divorce papers on my face with Leslie, the glamorous "Star Surgeon" of the year, by his side, her hands wrapped around his arms like she owned him.

Lucian sneered, "Lesley operates on kings and CEOs. You? You can't even look at a drop of blood without fainting. You’re a liability to my social standing."

“Sign the papers and I'll give you two hundred dollars every month as your monthly allowance. Considering your lifestyle, that's more than you ever need.” He mocked.

I stared at the divorce papers in my hands. This was what he was paying me for being a submissive wife.

"I’ll sign," I said, "and I’ll let you keep the house and the stocks. But only if Lesley can correctly identify the three hidden toxins I’ve neutralized in your body over the last five years using only the meals you mocked me for cooking.”

“If she’s the 'genius' you claim, surely she can diagnose the man she's sleeping with.”

Becky and I had been best friends since elementary school—inseparable until we both got into this top university and became roommates.
We used to lie in our dorm beds, staring at the ceiling, and swear an oath: when we got married, the gap between our weddings would never exceed one week.
I waited for Steven for four full years.
From freshman year to senior spring, I ghostwrote his papers, nursed his drunk stomach, and endured the rotating cast of girls who always seemed to need him.
Until the night Becky got proposed to—when the whole crowd egged Steven on to drop a knee too, he flung my hand away without a second thought, all because Claire, some sophomore, let out a shriek.
"Not now, Rachel. Claire's hurt. Can you not make this about you for once?"
That was all he left me with before he scooped her up and melted into the crowd.
What he didn't know was that there would never be a "not now" again.
In seven days, I'd be walking down the aisle in a wedding dress, just as promised.
Only the groom—wouldn't be him.

Three years ago, my pairs skating partner and I had a beautiful wedding surrounded by friends and family—but we never actually got around to signing the legal papers.
Over those three years, he has stood me up at City Hall exactly twenty-eight times.
One time, he stole my cab while I was burning up with a fever, leaving me shivering on the curb because his new, pampered protégée had a stomachache from drinking too much champagne.
Another time, he blew off our anniversary to rush to her side for a minor sprain.
Every single time we were supposed to finally make our marriage official, his precious junior skater somehow had a devastating emergency.
After twenty-eight broken promises, I finally stopped waiting. I dropped our partnership, shredded our application, and boarded a one-way flight to Milan.
But the moment I completely vanished from his life, the man who couldn't spare an hour to marry me suddenly lost his mind—chasing me across the globe to a city he swore he’d never return to, begging on his knees outside my door for a twenty-ninth chance.

Three years ago, I caught Kael holding Layla in his arms.
Layla was pressed against his chest, her arms wrapped around his waist.
Kael saw me. His arms stiffened for an instant, but he didn't let go.
"Aurelia, listen to me."
I didn't give him the chance. That night, I picked up our son, Milo, and left the wolf den where I had lived for five years.
But when I woke up, my arms were empty.
I was about to go after my son when my mom Morgaine's talisman lit up.
"There was an avalanche on Dusk Moon Ridge last night. Kael and Layla followed your trail up the mountain and were buried in the snow. The pack searched all night and found nothing."
"Where's Milo?"
Morgaine went quiet for a moment before telling me a band of black wolf marauders had spotted Milo on the mountain path.
Three people. Gone in a single night.
And they all blamed it on me.

I am a princess of the deep sea. For love, I abandoned my crown and used ocean magic to help him rise from a penniless sailor to a duke of immense wealth.

On our tenth wedding anniversary, he slapped me in front of all the guests, tore the Ocean Crown from my head to place it on his mistress, and ripped away my reverse scales: "I'm sick of this freakish marriage to a monster!" Blood flowed down the coral cuts, and my unborn child miscarried in the humiliation.

The moment the first reverse scale fell from my chest, I forgot our first kiss. At the same time, his three gold-laden ships mysteriously sank on the windless sea.

The Abyssal Pact has been activated: seven reverse scales correspond to seven memories. With each scale that falls, I forget him a little more, while he loses all the wealth he gained through me.

Seven years of deep affection, expectations with a pregnant belly, and all I got was his betrayal in marriage and false promises. I gambled my youth and sincerity, only to end up with an absurd scam. After waking up, we owe each other nothing and will have no more ties.

My chosen mate used his Beta authority to give the entire moonbloom compound to his fated mate's daughter.
The healer had said to split it—half for each child. Both would live. He overrode her. Gave the full dose to Rosalie Blackwell.
He wanted a full recovery. Just not for ours.
Three days later, my daughter Wren's organs shut down. She died on her birthday, still asking why Daddy wasn't there. The dress I'd made her—white with little silver wolves along the hem—she never got to put it on.
That same day, his fated's daughter walked out of the healing hall completely cured. He even threw a feast for the whole pack.
I collapsed at the border of Thornecrest territory. The healers told me it was cancer. Late-stage. Nothing left to treat.
Now I sat alone in our empty house with Wren's unworn birthday dress across my lap and drafted the dissolution papers.

"Brielle, I need money... My bone cancer is worse. Without treatment, I won't make it past next month."

For Cole's words, I gave up everything—my billionaire father, my inheritance, my name. I became a crime scene cleaner, the most degrading job in New York.

Twenty hours a day, I scrubbed blood and rotting flesh off apartment floors. I even sold my own blood. All to save the man I loved.

One million dollars. Finally, I had it.

I rushed to the five-star hotel, clutching the warm check in my trembling hands. Pushed open the presidential suite door.

And froze.

Cole—healthy, glowing, dressed in an expensive suit—knelt before Delilah, New York's newest socialite. A diamond ring glittered between his fingers.

"Babe, that corpse-smelling idiot sent more money today," he laughed. "That bag you wanted? Let's go buy it right now."

The check fell from my hands.

Something inside me shattered.

And something darker took its place.

The last thing I did before I died was lick dew off a rusted pipe.
Ninety days earlier, my fiancé Bastien promised he'd come back for me. He said three months in the Sahara would teach me not to be jealous of Posey—the girl I'd pulled from a refugee camp and raised as my own sister.
He didn't know the water ran out in the first week. He didn't know bandits broke my bones. He didn't care enough to find out.
While I lay dying on a rotting bed with a shattered leg, he was in Manhattan, sliding a pink diamond onto Posey's finger.
I died alone. But I didn't stay gone.
My soul followed a stolen necklace across the ocean, right back to his penthouse—just in time for the engagement party, the champagne toast, and the moment my body arrived at the door.

In the fifth year of my mating to Alpha Manfred,his childhood sweetheart, Jessica Bell, was splashed across every tabloid in the territory.
Pregnant. Unmated. And accused of shattering another couple’s bond.
The rumors hit like a rogue’s ambush. But it was his reaction that truly gutted me.
“Jessica’s father once saved me, She has no pack, no family left. Everything she’s accomplished… she clawed her way to it. Alone.”
My fingers clenched tighter around the pregnancy test tucked away in my purse.
“And the only way to protect her now,” he continued, not even looking me in the eye, “is for me to marry her. To claim the pup as mine.”
A muscle twitched in my jaw. Goddess, my wolf let out a low growl inside me, begging to lunge forward and leave claw marks down his perfectly tragic face.
“And what about me?” I asked, barely more than a whisper. My voice cracked.
The Silver Claw Pack and the Eclipse Pack—my pack—had been allies for over a century.
“How do I explain this sudden rejection to

After twenty years of knowing and loving my destined mate, Alpha Martin, we were finally about to get married.
On the eve of the wedding, He skillfully picked out the lipstick shade I wanted from my makeup bag.
That's when I knew: Alpha Martin had someone else.
That girl was wearing the custom evening gown I'd prepared for the wedding banquet, clinking glasses with Alpha Martin in a mate's toast.
Our friends surrounded her, respectfully calling her "Luna."
I didn't cause a scene. Instead, I called the hospital.
"Dr. Fabian, please dispose of the eggs I had frozen."
Then I sent a message to that girl.
"Yvonne Jimenez, would you like to marry Martin Daniels in my place?"

BLURB

My breath hitched, my chest heaving as Salvatore's finger thrust into my pussy. I clenched my teeth, my fingers squeezing the bedsheets as I shamelessly parted my legs even wider.

“Do you want me to stop?” His voice was a low growl.

“No,” I breathed. “Faster…please,” I moaned loudly.

I knew Salvatore's and my attraction to each other was forbidden; he was the heir to a wealthy family, and I was just a maid in his house. But I have had an attraction to him since I met him and couldn't control it.

We both couldn't.


Lyra Whitman is from a poor home and has faced constant bullying in school. She and her mother finally moved away to a new city, where they her mother works as a maid for the Sinclair's, one of the wealthiest and most influential families in the county.

Lyra cannot help but fall for their son, and she is surprised to see that he feels the same. Knowing the dangers of being together due to their different backgrounds, they are forced to navigate their relationship in secret.

"Jake? You sick fuck. Paid for this? His hands inside me?"

Sophia's voice cracked over the intercom, her oiled ass clenching around the masseur's pumping fingers. Live feed burned: her thighs quaking, pussy gushing slick down the table edge. I gripped the chair arms white-knuckled, cock straining—half rage, half blaze.

"Babe... yeah. Full service. Watch you cum harder," I rasped into the mic, voice raw. "Tell him—deeper or stop?"

Tech's eyes flicked to the camera, smirking as he curled two fingers inside her, thumb circling her clit. She bucked, moan ripping free. "Fuck... don't stop. Deeper—wreck me. Jake, you watching? Perverted cuck."

"Every thrust," I growled. "His fingers owning your tight pussy. Bigger rush than mine?"

Her head snapped up, doe eyes locking the hidden lens—pure fury melting to feral hunger. "Hell yes. Stretch me wider. Tell him flip me—fuck me raw while you beg."

Tech froze, glancing my way. My nod sealed it. "You heard her. Pound my girl. Make her scream your name."

He flipped her prone—tits spilling free, legs splayed wide. Cock out, thick and veined, he notched her dripping folds. "Ready to cum for a stranger, Sophia?"

"Do it," she hissed, hips grinding up. "Show Jake what he's missing."

He slammed home—her wail echoing both rooms. Relationship shattered. Door to real breeding? Kicked wide open.

In a world overrun by zombies, survivors built a fortress—and my fiancée and I joined its action unit.
To help her secure her position, I turned down leadership’s offer to run my own squad and stayed by her side as the “invisible” second-in-command.

For a full year, I made the tactics, wrote the contingencies, and cleaned up every mission.
She took my plans as her own credit—and let the team treat me like dead weight.

Then, on one operation, she ignored my orders and changed the plan on the fly. Disaster followed.
In the debrief, she blamed everything on me in front of everyone.

I resigned on the spot.

Not long after, I took command of a new squad—and delivered the cleanest record in the entire base.
Her unit couldn’t even finish routine recovery runs.

Until a mandated joint op put our teams at the same rally point—
and she finally realized the “legendary captain” was me.

"You taste sweet." He chuckled darkly from between my legs.
This time, a full on scream left my mouth. It was too overwhelming. I groaned, burying my face into the pillow beside me. Chanting his name.
He became aggressive, grinding his tongue against my clit. I moaned as he started to work the tip of his tongue into me. It was driving me to madness. He used his mouth to pleasure me, seemingly without a care as to how much pleasure it actually brought me and something about that made me feel even more desperate, made my body crave it even more.

I let out a relieved groan,I lay still with heart racing and tried my best to catch my breath. His warm hands stroked my body again, trailing up my body. I shook from the pleasure of his fingers wrapping around my nipples.

They said I shouldn’t exist.Heaven calls me a sin. Hell calls me a weapon. I stopped caring what they thought a very long time ago.
Geminia, half light, half shadow, Half hell half Heaven if anything like that was ever possible but i was proof that the universe has a twisted sense of humor. My blood burns with Heaven’s fire and Hell’s fury, and some days, I can’t tell which side is louder. I was meant to keep balance between them… but balance went straight to hell the second he showed up.
The Angel of Death himself.When he looks at me, it’s like the world holds its breath. He shouldn’t want me, and I sure as hell shouldn’t want him… but tell that to my heartbeat every time he says my name. The power I’ve been controlling reshaped me into something else..something neither Heaven nor Hell could touch and it could and would never be undone.

“You’re not having her,” I spoke, shielding her with my body.
“So be it.” And he fired.

Six years ago, a stupid lie shattered the bond between rich heiress Zenobia Hollen and her best friend, Kyle Livingston. Now, Kyle is back—broke, regretful, and desperate for a second chance. When Zenobia needs a new personal bodyguard, he seizes the opportunity, determined to prove he’s more than the boy who betrayed her.

But forgiveness isn’t Zenobia’s strength. Forced into proximity, their past is a minefield of resentment and unresolved passion. As Kyle risks his life to protect her from real threats, the line between duty and desire blurs. Can they navigate the dangers of the present and the ghosts of their past, or will the secrets and scars they carry destroy any chance of a future? In a world of luxury, lies, and lethal intentions, some second chances come with a bullet.

Thirty Shades Of ComedyThree books, three romances with all your favorite characters.Belly Dancing and Beyond series- laugh out loud stories about a group of women who have at one time or another danced with the great Nefertiti. Each book is a stand-alone tale jam-packed with familiar characters you will grow to love, maybe hate but will definitely want to read about again. Book 1- Sheryl's Last Stand"A poignant romantic comedy." ★★★★★“The voice is Scottish urban girl snark." ★★★★★"Good read, funny, fast-paced, zany characters." ★★★★★ Book 2-The Downfall Of A Bellydancer"Funny, witty, and rapid-paced." ★★★★★"Funny, Poignant, and charming!" ★★★★★"Laugh out loud funny." ★★★★★ Book 3-Four Takeaways And A Funeral"A fun and captivating comedy." ★★★★★"Great British rom-com." ★★★★★"An adorable comedy about sibling rivalry and Indian food." ★★★★★

When Carol Bennett caught her long-time boyfriend cheating, she didn't cry or beg. Instead, she exposed the scandal online, turning him into a viral disgrace overnight. Then, without looking back, she agreed to a marriage of convenience with Ethan Mitchell, a powerful billionaire suffering from a terminal illness—her estranged father's carefully arranged match.
On their wedding night, Ethan handed her a cold-hearted prenup and warned her not to expect love, money, or a future. Fine by Carol. She played her role perfectly, calling him "husband" with a sweet smile while keeping her heart locked away.
But the aloof CEO who once wanted nothing to do with her is now the one chasing her. One kiss, one glance, and suddenly he's breaking his own rules.
"Carol, kiss me."
She smirks, her fingers trailing along his collarbone. "Falling for me already, Mr. CEO? Looks like you're the one breaking the contract."
Who would've thought the dying billionaire would end up begging for a second chance?

Lorraine never expected to lose her virginity to her cold, unreadable CEO Tristan—let alone five times in one night. Even more shocking? He keeps showing up to save her, stepping in not once, but twice, to protect her from a toxic ex. After several heartfelt proposals, she finally agrees to a contract marriage—thinking it's a practical solution to a messy life.

Tristan has had his eyes on Lorraine for years—the brilliant top designer working quietly under his nose. The contract is just the beginning of his plan to claim her completely. He's ready to offer her everything: protection, devotion, and a love she's never dared to hope for.

But when jealous exes and relentless suitors re-enter the picture, threatening to tear them apart, their fragile arrangement is put to the test. Can a marriage built on strategy survive long enough to become something real?

Eight years ago, I left him bleeding in a hospital bed and disappeared without a trace.
It was the hardest thing I had ever done.
It was also the only way to protect the secret growing inside me.
For eight years, I built a quiet life for myself and my daughter, far away from the Trevanti name and the dangerous family that nearly destroyed us. I had one rule.
Never let them find me.
Then I made a mistake.
One bad decision landed me in debt to the wrong people, and before I knew it, I was being sold to the highest bidder.
I expected a stranger.
Instead, Fabian Trevanti walked through the door.
The boy I abandoned.
The man I never forgot.
The only man I’ve ever loved.
Eight years should have been enough to forget him.
It wasn’t.
Not his smile.
Not the way he looked at me.
Not the way my heart still betrayed me whenever I heard his name.
The worst part wasn’t that Fabian found me.
The worst part was realizing I still wanted him.
Because Fabian isn’t the sweet boy I left behind anymore.
He’s powerful.
Dangerous.
Possessive.
And after spending eight years searching for me, he’s no longer willing to accept my excuses or my distance.
He’s never letting us go again.
But Fabian finding me is only the beginning.
A ghost from our past has returned.
A man we thought was dead.
A monster who stole years of our lives and left scars neither of us ever truly escaped.
And this time, he wants more than revenge.
Caught between old secrets, deadly enemies, and a love neither of us managed to bury, Fabian and I are forced back into each other’s lives just as the past comes crashing through the door.
The problem?
The more danger closes in around us, the harder it becomes to remember why I ran in the first place.
And when the truth finally comes out, I might lose far more than my secret.
I might lose my heart all over again.

"We should be doing this," I mumbled, yet I bent my neck for him, giving him better access to it.
"Yes we shouldn't," he answered, but his hands were sliding under my skirt and pulling my panties down.
"If we get caught," I muttered, moaning as his fingers found my slick entrance and he rubbed. My knees shook but he held me against himself with his other hand.
"If we get caught," he repeated. It was as if this had become some sort of game between him and I. Repeating each other's words like this.
"I could be expelled and your job would be taken from you," I completed.
"Yes, that could happen," he answered with a nod of his head. He moved away from me and stared into my eyes. "But it won't happen. We won't get caught. I won't tell, if won't tell."
"I'd be crazy to tell someone," I answered, my eyes searching his.


Vampire x Human. Professor x Student. Steamy x Forbidden love
When your one night stand turns out to be your professor, there's only one thing to do- continue to sleep with him. And that was exactly what Sophia is going to do.
She's faced with a forbidden attraction that's hard to resist until she finds out his dark secret; he's a vampire.
Will her passion overcome the secrets he had been hiding from her or will the shadows tear them apart?

The craziest thing I've ever done? Agreeing to Mason's idea—sex in the middle of nowhere.
But then his first love called, and he left me stranded out there. Alone. In the dead of night.

In her past life, Arabella Oberon was the lowest-ranking member of the Oberon family.

She genuinely took in Regina, the butler's daughter, only to be constantly manipulated by this cunning and manipulative woman.

Regina gradually stole the love from her three brothers.

Arabella was forced to give Regina blood transfusions time and again, her weight plummeting to a mere eighty-eight pounds.

Ultimately, under the relentless pressure from her brothers, she jumped out of a window in despair and died. Her last words were,

"What about Regina's blood transfusions?"

When she opened her eyes again, Arabella found herself reborn three years earlier—the very day Regina appeared at her doorstep crying, begging for help.

Looking at the pitiful, tearful girl before her, Arabella smiled.

No more soft-heartedness.

No more groveling.

Instead, she "kindly" arranged for Regina to move into the servants' quarters, to earn her own living through honest labor.

Faced with her brothers who sided with her, she no longer bothered to please them.

And towards her former fiancé, Theodore, whom she had once fawned over, she remained cold, distant, and indifferent.

Moreover, in this life, they would discover that her identity was far more than just the eldest daughter of the Oberon family.

"Bite me." Chase Sterling's whisper was a blade against my skin.

I should pull away.
I should hate him.
But my wolf is howling yes while my heart screams no.

"Say stop," he breathes against my pulse, "and I'll stop."

Liar.

We both know he can't stop.
The bond won't let him.

And neither can I.


Ten years ago, they found my father with his throat torn out
on Silvermoon land.

The Sterlings called it "trespassing."
I called it murder.

They gave us hush money and a warning:
Keep quiet, or the Beta's daughter is next.

So I learned to be invisible.
To swallow my rage.
To survive.

Until someone slipped a note into my locker:
They lied about how your father died.


Chase Sterling.

Future Alpha. Golden boy. Untouchable.

The moment our eyes met, the bond snapped into place—
a collar I never asked for, a chain I can't break.

He says he didn't know.
He says his father is innocent.
He says he'll help me find the truth.

But every time he touches me,
I feel my father's blood on his hands.


Now I'm trapped between two impossible choices:

Accept the bond and betray everything I am.
Or break it—and lose the partner who can prove
my father's killer walks free.

The worst part?

When Chase whispers "mine" against my skin—
I want to believe him.

BLURB

Ravenna Damon was banished for existing.

Darius Pike crossed the border anyway.

They built something in the wilderness. A home from nothing, a child on the way, something almost close to peace. The Moon Goddess let them have three months before she took it back.

Now Darius is dead. Her child is gone. And the man responsible for both is apparently her second fated mate.

The bond does not care what Caleb Nightshade did. It does not care that Ravenna has nothing left to lose, or that the war outside the dungeon walls is burning everything she ever loved to the ground. It simply exists, pulling at her like a tide, patient and merciless and completely indifferent to her feelings about it.

She has a choice. Survive Caleb or die rejecting him.

Ravenna Damon has never been good at dying.

Mated to the Enemy is the second book in the Blood and Ice series. It contains mature themes, grief, and emotional intensity.

"I married you only to destroy you."

That was the only reason FBI agent Sophia Carter accepted a new identity as Evelyn Russo and married Lorenzo Moretti, the most dangerous mafia boss in Italy.

Her mission was to infiltrate, gather evidence, drag Lorenzo to prison, and save the children and women that Lorenzo Moretti had kidnapped for trafficking.

But life as a Don's wife was never as simple as she had imagined. Behind the luxurious mansion, the armed men, and the secrets of the Moretti family, Sophia found herself trapped in a game she did not understand.
The closer she got to Lorenzo, the harder it became to distinguish lies from reality.
But one thing never changed. If her identity as an FBI agent was exposed, then at that very moment, she would die at her own husband's hands.

I'm screwed.

If I want to keep my dream job, my new (and way-too-attractive-for-his-own-good) boss says I have to score an interview with one of the legendary Fontaine brothers of Hollywood.

I know three things about the Fontaine brothers:

that they're Hollywood royalty,
that all four of them are ridiculously, mind-numbingly sexy,
and
that they never, ever give interviews.

My only chance is to seduce one of them. The only problem? Historically speaking, I'm way more likely to put my foot in my mouth (or generally make a fool of myself) than charm the pants off anyone.

That's where my way-too-sexy boss comes in. He might hold the fate of my job in his hands, but he's also totally willing to teach me the art of seduction. I only hope I can survive his lessons. . .

Due to explicit scenes, this steamy romantic comedy is rated 18+.

The Secret to Seduction is created by Ember Casey, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

“A dynamic story line that grips from the first chapter and doesn't let go.” --Midwest Book Review, Diane Donovan (regarding Once Gone) From #1 bestselling author Blake Pierce comes a new masterpiece of psychological suspense—the AVERY BLACK SERIES—which continues here with CAUSE TO DREAD (Book #6), also a standalone novel. The series begins with CAUSE TO KILL (Book #1)—a free download with over 200 five star reviews!A woman turns up dead in her own apartment, locked in her closet, her body crawling with poisonous spiders, and the Boston police are stumped. As all of their leads collapse, they are dreading the killer will strike again. Desperate, the police have no choice but to turn to Boston’s most brilliant and controversial homicide detective—Avery Black. Now retired, Avery, in a low point in her own life, reluctantly agrees to help with the case. But when other bodies start turning up, murdered in grotesque and unusual ways, Avery can’t help but wonder: is there a serial killer on the loose?With the intense media pressure and the stress of having a new, inexperienced partner, Avery is pushed to her limit as she struggles to crack the bizarre cases—and to keep herself from falling into the abyss. Avery finds herself falling deeper and deeper into the twisted mind of the killer, who holds more secrets than Avery could imagine.The most riveting and shocking book of the series, a psychological thriller with heart-pounding suspense, CAUSE TO DREAD will leave you turning pages late into the night. “A masterpiece of thriller and mystery. Pierce did a magnificent job developing characters with a psychological side, so well described that we feel inside their minds, follow their fears and cheer for their success. The plot is very intelligent and will keep you entertained throughout the book. Full of twists, this book will keep you awake until the turn of the last page.” --Books and Movie Reviews, Roberto Mattos (re Once Gone)

He's the golden boy of Kansas City hockey. He has the trophies, fortune, women, and a life where he always gets what he wants.

She's the Special Agent who has spent ten years hunting the monster that murdered her father, waiting for the day its signature appears again.

Zane Chandler's perfect life shatters when he comes home to find his younger sister brutally murdered, her eyes gouged out and a five-pointed star carved between them.

For Island Meyers, that star isn't just a killer's signature. It's the ghost that has haunted her for a decade.

Determined to solve the case that destroyed her, Island takes charge of the investigation, only to face the victim's furious brother.

Zane dismisses her as a rookie, demands she's removed from the case, and insists she isn't capable of finding his sister's killer.

What he doesn't know is that Island isn't a stranger. Their families are connected by a betrayal neither of them has forgotten, and a secret buried for ten years.

Island refuses to walk away. This investigation is her only chance to uncover the truth she's spent a decade chasing, and no grieving hockey superstar is going to stop her.

But when another body appears and the killer's twisted game grows deadlier, Zane and Island are forced into an uneasy partnership where every clue exposes another lie, every discovery brings them closer to the monster, and every argument makes their attraction harder to ignore.

Because Zane's sister wasn't chosen by chance…She was a message.

Now Zane and Island must trust the one person they swore they'd never need before the next victim wears the star.

Because whatever murdered the people they loved isn't finished.

And this time, it's watching them fall for each other.

My wife never knew what I really did. She only knew I was gone most of the year and money hit our account every month.

The day she cheated, she rummaged through my drawer, found an eagle-shaped brooch, and gifted it to her lover like a flashy accessory. “It’s worthless,” she said. “Perfect with a suit.” I warned her again and again to bring it back. She called me annoying, powered off her phone, and blocked me everywhere.

She didn’t know I’m a cleaner—the kind who handles quiet jobs—and that brooch isn’t jewelry. It’s an organization badge, a mark that turns you into a target the moment it appears in public.

That night, the killers came. The ballroom was sealed. She trembled under a table while her lover shoved her out to take the bullets.

When a cold gun barrel pressed to her temple and someone asked, “Who does the brooch belong to?”

My father said an honest man can't run a farm. My brother called me nothing but a burden. My ex-girlfriend dropped her engagement ring into a glass of champagne and handed it back to me. They all thought I was worthless. None of them knew I'd been reborn, and had stockpiled five years' worth of supplies in the cold storage. When the blizzard hit, the walkie-talkie crackled to life. I heard their cries and the unspoken thoughts swirling inside their heads. Really? You're still trying to scheme against me right now?

In my past life, they drained my blood, kicked me off the rooftop, and said, "Waste doesn't deserve to live."

Reborn into the apocalypse, I opened my palm, and seven beams of primal energy pierced the sky. The woman who cried out "the best in the world" to me just ten minutes ago couldn't even produce a spark now. The brother who wore the boots I sewed and called me trash was being chased and bitten by mutants like a stray dog, his leg broken.

They came to me with memories of their past lives, demanding, "Why did you steal our special abilities?"

In front of thousands of people, I unleashed a net of lightning, scorching those who came to block my way. They knelt in the mud, their heads bleeding from kowtowing; Elena covered her mouth, which had been slapped clean, and David trembled on his single leg, leaning on a rusty steel pipe—yet they couldn't even climb over the iron thorns surrounding my tower.

Later, they rotted into a pile of mud in the arena and among the hordes of corpses, and I didn't even look back.

Until a horde of millions of zombies besieged the city, I went out alone with my sword and shattered the zombie king with a single strike.

The entire ruins knelt down.

They thought I had stolen the light.
No. I was just a fire that burned away what should have been garbage.

I am the chief architect of a quantum computing system valued at hundreds of billions in the real world.
For an AI test subject that I wrote myself, I was willing to conceal my identity as the creator and become her unseen, low-level assistant, even at the cost of taking a fatal blow for her.
Just as she was about to go public and reach the top of the conglomerate pyramid, she unhesitatingly pushed an "Organ Donation Agreement" in front of me, forcing me to remove a kidney to save the newly spawned "old money" NPC new love.
She thought that as long as I died on the operating table, she could kick me aside, this useless stepping stone, without any moral burden, and embrace the perfect capitalist marriage.
But she didn't know—
The entire world she exists in is just a sandbox test server on my desk.

They told me the baby was gone, but they didn't tell me my heart was being carved out, too.

I woke up on the operating table, paralyzed. Through my blurred vision, I saw my beloved husband, Marco, trembling with excitement as he held my medical chart.

"Her blood is perfect," he whispered. "It is a perfect match for Isabella. We can proceed with the transplant now."

"Finally. It wasn't in vain that I brought her back." My revered father let out a sigh of relief. "If it weren't for this day, how would someone who wandered outside for so many years be qualified to step into this house again?"

When my husband said "I love you," he actually meant "Your heart is perfect for the woman I truly love."

I couldn't scream; I couldn't move.

I could only watch helplessly as the silver scalpel pierced toward my chest, while my sister, Isabella, lay on the operating table next to me, smiling in her sleep.

I was never a long-lost daughter, nor was I a beloved wife.

I was just a mobile blood bank waiting to be slaughtered.

In my previous life, on the very day of our marking ceremony, my Alpha fiancé met his fated mate at the banquet.
He didn’t break off our engagement. Instead, he chose silence and completed the ceremony with me. He chose to trap me with a twenty-year mate bond.
For twenty years, I fought wars for the Pack, bore him an heir, and ruled the main hall alone as Luna.
Meanwhile, in another Pack’s territory, he spent his entire life with that woman.
Before I died, he told me he was sorry.
But he also blamed me—saying that if I hadn’t insisted on taking the Luna seat, he could have left more completely.
Only then did I realize something cruel. Not only was I never the one he loved, I was also the obstacle to his freedom.
When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of the marking ceremony.
This time, the mate bond had not yet formed, and the mate mark had not yet been sealed.
Whether he would abandon me for his fated mate no longer mattered.
Because this time—
I would never step aside for any Alpha again.

I once loved Ryan deeply and helped him become the Alpha, only to be rewarded with chains in a dungeon and the mocking laughter of him and his mistress.

Fate gave me a second chance—I woke up reborn on the morning of the mate selection ceremony. There he was, still ordering me around in front of everyone, expecting me to play the obedient servant.

Everyone tried to convince me that Ryan, the man who killed me, is the "right choice."

Yet I chose Connor—the man feared by the entire clan, the one who will bring ruin to the clan for the sake of his one true love.

This time, I refuse to be the stepping stone on Ryan's climb to power.

I'm going to make everyone see who truly holds the reins.

Forty-eight hours before my wedding, I was kidnapped and gang-raped, surviving by only a thread in the depths of despair.   When my mafia boss fiancé and my police detective best friend stood guard by my hospital bed with bloodshot eyes, I heard him suddenly switch to Navajo and ask her, "The death row inmates from the dark web—were they dealt with cleanly?"   My best friend chuckled, replying in the same language. "Don't worry. The guys who put their hands on Maya have been wiped out. Dead men tell no tales."   "Sacrificing Maya alone gave you the perfect excuse to wipe out the rival family and swallow the southern smuggling network, while earning me a high-level promotion. It was a damn good deal."   Amidst tearing, agonizing pain, it felt as if I had been plunged into an ice cliff.   They thought I could never understand this obscure tribal language, so they brazenly feasted on the spoils of victory built upon my very flesh and blood. But what they didn't know was that, to surprise my fiancé during our wedding vows... I had been secretly studying Navajo for an entire year.