7977 Book(s) Related to Off the Grid

The night before our mating ceremony, my Alpha boyfriend was tangled up with my brother's fiancée.

He was my brother's ride-or-die companion, and the son-in-law our pack cherished most.

My brother was devastated by this betrayal and charged toward the border that very day, never to return.

Yet everyone kept urging me to forgive them.

His comrade pleaded: "Kael knows he messed up. For the sake of all these years of brotherhood, just give him another chance."

The Elder advised: "I know you're angry, but he's now our pack's Alpha. Making things too bitter won't be good for your future either. Elara, let it go."

Even the usually fair Council Chief was persuading me: "Elara, he's a war hero. It's not easy for a pack to cultivate an Alpha... some things... require considering the bigger picture."

I stopped arguing and simply knelt before my brother's grave for an entire night.

Then I submitted my severance application and moved to new territory with my parents, who had gone white-haired overnight.

Before leaving, Kael blocked my path with reddened eyes: "Elara, do you hate me this much? Won't you even give me a chance to atone?"

I looked at him calmly: "Your sin, like my brother's life, can never be repaid."

After that day, he continued rising through the pack ranks, earning honors, as if nothing had ever happened.

While our family stayed away for three whole years.

I thought I'd never have any connection with Kael again in this lifetime.

Until a recall order brought him back before me once more.

"Elara, long time no see."

My locker door swings open and the hate mail tumbles out like confetti from hell. Murderer's daughter. Your dad killed kids. Die like them.
Three weeks since the news broke, and they just keep coming.
I'm on my hands and knees, frantically shoving the notes into my backpack while the hallway erupts in laughter. Sarah steps over me like I'm roadkill.
The first time I drowned, I thought it was an accident. The second time, I thought I was losing my mind. But by the third time—watching Blake's lifeless body sink next to mine in that chlorine-burning water—I finally got it. Time isn't moving forward. It's stuck, like a broken record, spinning back to the day Blake could still dive like an Olympic champion, before the accident stole everything from him.
This time, I won't let him jump in after me.
I have to save Blake from me. But I'm drowning in more than just pool water, and I don't know how to surface. I don't know how to stop this endless loop of death and guilt and love that's killing us both, over and over again.
How do you break a curse when you're the one who cast it?

I was once the most exquisite rose in New York's underworld.
Leander Castello's wife. The mafia godfather's treasured queen. The woman everyone envied.
I thought he would be my salvation, my forever.
Until he snapped me in half with his own hands and threw me into the filthiest pit like trash.
He said he needed to teach me what betrayal costs.
So I was handed over to the Mexican cartel boss, Carlos.
Six months later, when he kicked down that iron door, I was on my knees in a pool of blood, crawling toward his feet like a beaten dog.
I thought he was just another client.
I opened my mouth, revealing my shattered teeth, forcing sounds like grinding metal through vocal cords destroyed by industrial acid.
I mechanically unbuttoned my shirt, displaying the crisscrossing cigarette burns and brands covering my skin.
I knocked my forehead against his shoe, silently begging him not to use the hose on me today.
He stared at my mutilated right leg, at my vacant eyes, and finally understood—
That rose had rotted away on the cartel's operating table, along with our child.
What's left now is just a living corpse.

A month before my boyfriend Samuel and I were supposed to get married, he asked me to let another woman wear my wedding dress and move into my house.

It all started three months ago when his "old friend" Dahlia returned from overseas, supposedly with less than a year to live. A week ago, Samuel told me that Dahlia's dying wish was to become a bride before she passed away, and he was the chosen groom.

I kept saying no. But he brought it up every single day, insisting he had to help Dahlia because she had helped him when his company was in crisis three years ago, and he needed to fulfill her wish.

I was furious.

But in the end, I gave up the house and left him.

After the catastrophic war between the four great races ended in ceasefire, the Supernatural Council established an ironclad law—the Pact of Heirs.
Every hundred years, a Mating Season would open, where eligible heirs would compete to determine who would rule the world for the next century.
In my previous life, I chose to marry the wolf prince Darius, desperate to escape my status as a black-feathered orphan in the eagle clan.
The wolf clan's rule was brutally simple: whoever bore the first child carrying the matrilineal eagle-eye bloodline would claim dominion over all. I gave Darius that child. My son secured his throne and granted him absolute power.
My sister Cecily—the chieftain's true daughter—had set her sights on the vampire heir, drawn by their ancient nobility and dark allure. She married into their clan willingly.
But vampire bonds were cold as death itself. Her human-adjacent body couldn't sustain their offspring. She lost her fertility and became a cautionary tale whispered at every gathering.
Twisted by jealousy and shame, she decided I was to blame for her failures. She drugged my wine at a feast, then hurled me off Storm Cliff while I was too weak to spread my wings.
As I plummeted toward the rocks, someone tried to catch me—Kade, the exiled wingless dragon, his dark-scaled hand reaching desperately from a ledge.
But above us, Cecily stood at the cliff's edge, smiling as she cut through the safety rope he'd thrown. I hit the stones and everything went black.
When I opened my eyes again, I could still feel the phantom warmth of Kade's hand and the venom in Cecily's smile.
But somehow, impossibly, I was back—returned to the very day the Mating Season began.
Through the one-way scrying glass at the Observation Altar, I looked down at the moonlit sacrificial platform below. Cecily was already there. And she wasn't alone.
She'd been reborn too. I was certain of it.
But she didn't know what I knew—that Darius was a monster to his lovers.
During the full moon, when the wolf took over completely, he'd killed more than one partner in his bed.

"You drive me crazy, Lilith. Just one night... I’ll give you whatever you want. Please let me taste you," my billionaire CEO whimpered, pinning me against the wall, his hot breath brushing my ear.

He is obsessed with my new face, my body, and my ruthless attitude. He is willing to abandon everything just to get into my bed.

If only he knew that the flawless skin he’s kissing right now used to be covered in the acid his mistress poured on me.
If only he knew that I am his dead, naive wife—the one he threw into an ice cellar to die along with our unborn child, just to steal my family's inheritance.

"Anything I want?" I trace his jawline, smiling sweetly as my nail digs into his skin. "Then give me your empire, William. And your life."

I rose from the ashes with a new face and a hidden will. He wants to ruin my lipstick, but I came back to ruin his life.

My fiancé, Liam Miller, slapped me more than a dozen times in front of everyone over his childhood sweetheart.
Then he shoved me down a spiral staircase.
Both my legs were shattered. My skull cracked open. I spent an entire month in the ICU.
He never came to see me.
Not once.
He was too busy staying by Sophia’s side, planning her birthday party, and getting down on one knee in front of everyone to propose to her.
As for me, I couldn’t even get through the doors of his headquarters anymore. My access had been revoked. My position had been taken. Every trace of my place in his world had been erased.
Nine years.
From nineteen to twenty-eight, I gave him the best years of my life.
In the end, I had given them to the wrong man.
On the day I was discharged, I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cling to him and beg for answers.
I simply called my mother.
“Mom,” I said calmly, “that overseas mafia empire you wanted me to inherit? I’m ready to take it.”
There was a brief silence on the other end.
Then my mother said, “I’ve waited ten years for this day.”
The night before my flight, Liam’s messages flooded my phone.
“Emma, I was wrong. Don’t go.”
What do you think?
Would I ever look back?

For a whole year, my husband's childhood friend treated my high-end boutique like her personal closet.

Bags that ran a few thousand dollars, couture gowns worth tens of thousands. She took whatever she wanted and walked out, never once saying the word "money."

The store bled cash month after month. When I finally hit my limit and told her to pay up, she slapped me across the face in front of a room full of customers.

"You should be flattered I even shop here. And you've got the nerve to ask me for money?"

Garrett came rushing in with his coffee, and the first thing out of his mouth wasn't whether I was okay. He pulled her behind him and told me to apologize, then said if I didn't, he'd divorce me.

I didn't cry, didn't make a scene. I picked the bill up off the floor, turned around, walked out, and made one phone call.

Three days later, Bianca comes back with five of her socialite friends, bragging that they're going to clean out every expensive piece in the place.

I hold my coffee and smile, tell them to take their time.

What she doesn't know is that three days ago, this store already changed hands.

Ice slammed through my veins.
My throat locked up, crushed by an invisible fist. My body convulsed violently, mouth gaping open and shut, but no air came.
Through blurring vision, I saw my polished stepbrother Damien standing there, watching his watch—counting down the seconds I had left.
And Sophie—that scholarship kid who used to sob over dead ants—stood holding the empty syringe, her smile twisted and ugly. "Don't worry, Charlotte. I'll take real good care of your Ivy spot and your boyfriend."
The darkness swallowed me whole.

47 deaths.
48 iterations.
He sold his brother a death trap and called it a farm.
When the dead rose, the experiment began—and the only way out was through.

Kael ruined my life, drained my divine blood, and framed me for murder in my past life. Given a second chance, I reject his fake tenderness and tear down every lie he built. The almighty Dark Duke who once played with my life now craves only my mercy. He abandons his army, destroys his status, and begs for my punishment. I end his tyranny, chain him with my golden blood, and turn my worst tormentor into my most obedient hound.

Oak Creek thinks my brother, Cole, is a saint. He saved the family legacy and adopted the orphaned daughter of a killer out of the goodness of his heart.
What they don’t know is the price of his halo: Me.
To keep his 'good guy' image, he sacrificed his real sister. He gave her my bed, my home, and my parents.
When I was driven out of town, sleeping in a vandalized trailer, he left me a note: Come home and apologize.
I did come back. But not to apologize.
I'm holding the microphone at the town's biggest festival, looking down at the two thousand people who threw trash at me.
I have a stack of receipts, an unedited tape, and the truth about how my parents really died.
Are you ready to meet the real Hale family?

Five years ago, on our wedding day, my fiancée Vivian was in the bridal suite fucking my best man.
Five years later, I returned to New York with my wife—the most powerful Mafia matriarch in Naples. At Atelier Milano, Brandon, the same "best man" who betrayed me, fawned over my custom-tailored suit, groveling to the staff about how desperately he wanted to meet the legendary Mr. Salvatore.
He had no idea...
The man he'd once written off as a pathetic loser was the very person he was now begging to impress.

To save my dying brother, I signed a million-dollar contract: sleep with a comatose billionaire to secure an heir. My boyfriend swore it was just a harmless formality. One night. One permanently locked door. But as I nervously approached the mattress, the paralyzed heir suddenly opened his eyes. And he whispered a terrifying warning...

On our one-year anniversary, my husband Julian gifted me an antique ring.
Putting it on cost me everything.
I miscarried, grew paralyzed, and rapidly withered into a husk. And Julian? He convinced everyone that the trauma had simply driven a grieving mother insane.
Eventually, even I believed him.
It wasn’t until the moment of my murder that the truth finally clicked.
The ring wasn't a blessing; it was a parasitic siphon.
Then, I opened my eyes—
I was back at the anniversary dinner.

The adoptive brother I'd been secretly in love with for a decade took my virginity on the night of my twentieth birthday, fueled by alcohol.

I thought I had finally found love.

Until I stood outside his half-open apartment door and heard his teammates mocking me.

"Damn, Dax, you actually slept with Elara? That boring good girl?"

My hand froze mid-air above the doorknob.

Dax's tone was dripping with contempt. "Look closely at her face. It's exactly like Cassandra's, isn't it?"

"It's no big deal. She revolves around me every single day. All it took was crooking a finger."

"With Cassandra gone, she's the perfect stand-in to kill time."

The room instantly erupted into a fit of unbridled, mocking laughter.

I dug my nails fiercely into my palms, opened my phone, and found the email I had deliberately ignored for a month.

[Florence Academy of Fine Arts — Exchange Program Confirmation]

Three years ago, my best friend Juliana Pierce was raped and jumped from a twelve-story building. I was there. I saw everything. I know exactly who did it.

Alexander Knight—Juliana's boyfriend, brilliant scientist, the man I've secretly loved for seven years—has spent every moment since hunting for answers. He believes I'm shielding a predator. He's dedicated his life to making mine hell.

Now I'm dying of ALS, and Alexander's dragged my broken body onto his "Memory Judgment Stage" for the world to see. His new technology can rip memories straight from my brain and broadcast them as holograms.

"Tell them who killed Juliana," he shouted.

I refuse. So he cranks up the machine, letting the neural probes tear through my dying brain. My hand shatters. My body convulses. But I won't break.

Until the memories start bleeding out anyway.

And when Alexander sees the rapist's face—Completely loses his mind.

Everyone said I was the happiest woman of the Northern Plains Clan, blessed with the purest love from Eric, the Wolf King.
Then my wolf let out a tormented howl.
Through the soul bond of fated mates, I felt it clearly—
my husband held my maid in his arms, drowning in desperate lust.
That nourishing tonic I’d drunk for three years, which I’d believed was filled with his affection, had only been brewed to keep me barren all along.
"Eric, I want you..."
"All of me is yours, my love. Bear our cub soon."
Those sweet whispers I once held dear shattered me to pieces in an instant.
The whole clan praised us as the perfect pair.
Yet who could have imagined this marriage had been built entirely on lies from the very start?
Since he is such a master of pretense, I suppose it’s time I put on a show of my own.
I will expose the true face of this flawless husband for everyone to see.

"They said I was just a piece of trash, only fit to be a substitute bride for the lunatic Abyssal Dragon Duke." I smirked, twisting the bone bracelet that sealed my venomous power. My fake sister wept pitifully, "Visenya, at worst, I'll bear the Duke's wrath myself." Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea. When the bloodthirsty Duke finally cornered me, he didn't tear me apart. Instead, he kissed my fingertips and chuckled. "So, my little bride, shall we slaughter the Emperor and take the throne for fun?" "Deal," I smiled. "But if you drag me down, I'll kill you too."

My fiancé was going to humiliate me at our own wedding.

I know because I heard him think it.

I'm Isabella Rossi — mafia heiress, future bride to Lorenzo Falcone, the golden boy of New York's underworld. Our marriage was supposed to unite two empires.

I also have a secret. I can read minds. But only when people want to use me, hurt me, or destroy me.

Lorenzo's thoughts had been silent for three years. I thought that meant he loved me.

The night before the wedding, I finally heard him. The mistress he'd planted in the crowd. The fake pregnancy reveal. The plan to humiliate me at the altar so he could play the victim — and steal my family's power in the chaos.

Landon Rhodes and I grew up together, both dreaming of becoming top chefs. But I knew he was the one with a palate kissed by God.

So when Rowan Stone, this street-rat punk, got her claws into him, I took the drinks, the smoke, the slaps for him. When he wanted to skip the National Young Chefs Competition to stay with her drunk ass, I dragged him back to the culinary lab.

He won the championship, got recruited by a three-star Michelin restaurant, graduated and made millions. I became the most invisible prep cook in his kitchen.

Until Rowan wrapped her car around a pole during one of her episodes, and he lured me into a basement.

"This is all your fault! If you'd minded your own damn business, she'd still be alive!"

His foot came down on my right hand. Bones cracking. My fingers ground to pulp.

All those 5 AM trips to the fish market for him. All those nights watching stock simmer for forty-eight hours straight. All the praise he soaked up at final practicals. My sacrifices, and all I got in return was his hatred.

"These worthless hands that can only cut vegetables deserve to rot in the ground with her."

The pain swallowed me whole.

When I wake up again, I'm back to that afternoon when he said he was going to the bar to find her.

This time, I won't stop him.

At seven years old, he pulled me from the rapids—and for the eleven years that followed, I loved this man I called "Uncle."

Then Sophia appeared. She accused me of pushing her down the stairs, and Michael didn't spare me so much as a glance before throwing me out into the storm. I knocked until my hands were raw and bleeding. He never opened the door.

Three years later, he showed up at my workplace, demanding I "come home" with him. His pregnant girlfriend flaunted a twelve-week ultrasound, cooing about how the baby already "looked just like him"—then staged yet another fall, told yet another lie, let out yet another shriek, casting me once more as the heartless monster.

But this time, I won't beg.

This time, I know secrets they don't.

Because that miscarriage three years ago? That baby? That ultrasound?

None of it was real.

The question is—how much has Michael already lost, and can he see the truth before the one person who ever truly loved him is gone for good?

That was supposed to be one of the most anticipated days of my life—the wedding of my best friend, Sarah.
But when I put on my bridesmaid dress, she called me a bitch.
"Get out." Sarah looked at me like I was trash.
"I don't want to see you at my wedding."
I stood frozen in place, staring down at the broken Cartier bracelet she had given me, now lying scattered on the floor.

I'm a blind girl, and I've always been close with the old lady living next door.
One day, I caught the smell of blood coming from her apartment.
Worried something had happened to her, I pushed her door open—and instantly realized my mistake.
I had walked right into a murder scene.
The killer was still there.
I had to take a chance.
Betting that my pale, sightless eyes could fool those blood-crazed ones.
I stepped into the blood-soaked room, smiled toward where the body lay, and called out,
"Ma'am, the store has oranges on sale—I brought some over for you..."

I'm a forensic audio specialist. I make a living digging up the truths people deliberately erase from static and noise.
My 19-year-old brother was accused of pushing a billionaire's bride to her death at her wedding.
The police presented their "smoking gun" recording. I heard exactly twelve seconds missing from it.
Those twelve seconds hold the truth about how the bride really died—and the billionaire family's dark secret that will get both me and my brother killed.
They smashed my equipment, threatened my life, bribed the cops, and tried to bury the truth forever.
But what they don't know is—
Some voices refuse to stay silent. Even when they're cut out.

I chased after my first love, Joe, for years and finally worked up the courage to confess—only to overhear him plotting to get me drunk as a plaything.
Just when I was in utter despair, his mafia brother, David, showed up and saved me from deep sorrow. He treated me gently like I was made of glass, gifted me a private estate, got down on one knee and proposed, saying he'd had a crush on me for years.
I thought I'd finally escaped hell and found my one true love—until his “lover” Ann came back with a boy who looked exactly like him and stole every bit of his attention.
David swore Ann was just my stand-in, but he kept leaving me for her again and again, even throwing himself in front of bullets for her in a shootout, saying, “For you, I can risk my life.”

In my past life, I died in a freezing, damp basement.
The person who destroyed me was Evelina, the daughter of my father’s mistress. She set a trap at a charity gala, dragged my reputation through the mud, and forced me into a hellish marriage—all so she could strip away everything that rightfully belonged to me.
When I opened my eyes again, I was twenty-two. The gala that sealed my fate was happening tonight.
Before the banquet officially began, I seamlessly swapped two champagne flutes, handing her meticulously woven trap right back to her. When the scandal detonated, sending shockwaves through the ballroom, my eyes landed on Killian—the Vance family's notoriously cold-blooded illegitimate son.
The trust fund my mother left me was still firmly under my control. I walked straight up to him and laid my chips on the table.
My enemies had retreated to the shadows, waiting to strike back. But I was going to use their own conspiracies as stepping stones, clawing back everything I owned, one piece at a time.

His life is full of violence, blood and death. His name is Cerberus, that's what they call him because he's vicious, cruel, and ruthless. To be The Mafia leader you have to be, fearless, heartless and shameless, to have what you want, to get what you want and to own what you want. Gabriel 30 years, the leader of the black cross mafia or family as he calls it, he's well known everywhere due to his cruel acts. Ariel a sweet 18 years high school girl innocent, shy, kind and pure. The girl who always sees the good in people even though they can't see it themselves. She's a believer that everyone matters and everyone must have a chance. These two people will meet, their worlds collide, their life won't be the same. Is the gangster going to be changed by the angel or the pure soul of the angel is going to be tainted.

"You also feel Lumira died an unjust death? Then let's see you change it."

Rina Vale died cursing an author for killing her favorite villainess. Now she's trapped in that villainess's body, with a blood contract saying: 'rewrite the sequel or be erased.'

The ex who drove Lumira to suicide is hunting her. The vampire prince wants to destroy her beautifully. And the Author who sent her here? Still watching.

The Blood Moon is rising. She has the spoilers. But surviving the story might be harder than rewriting it.

Celeste Ashford believed she had left her former life behind, and Caspian Hayes, the man whose name used to send her heart racing until the day she found herself standing outside his door. However, as her family's house hovers on the brink of foreclosure, fate pulls him back into her life. Seizing the opportunity to right the past, Caspian makes her a disturbing offer: if she becomes his wife until he succeeds his father as head of the empire, he’ll save her house.

Years earlier, Celeste had disappeared from his life at his most vulnerable moment. Now, Caspian’s resentment is deep, but so is his desire. Bound by debt and obligation, they sail a treacherous sea of corporate demands, family meddling and smouldering emotions neither can ignore. When vengeance collides with yearning and secrets unspool in the unrelenting desert heat, they must each wrestle with what matters more: punishing the sins of the past or creating a love that might redefine their futures.

Eighteen years ago, a friendship among three young people — Princess Sabrina, Guilherme, and Diego — fell apart under the weight of passion and betrayal. Sabrina and Guilherme's love ignited an irreconcilable hatred in Diego, leading to an unexpected pregnancy with twins, separated at birth by a dark secret.

Now, Mayara, an orphaned young woman with jade green eyes and long black hair with reddish highlights, receives a mysterious letter promising to reveal her true identity. Her search takes her to Mexico, where family secrets, political disputes, and the underworld of the mafia intertwine.

Among the dangerous charm of Santiago Diaz — the ruthless heir with honey-colored eyes who publicly declares his love for her — and the possessive protection of Prince Arthur — blond with violet-gray eyes, who returns furious to win her back — Mayara finds herself caught in an intense, deadly love triangle.

While Santiago offers a treasure hunt that could change destinies, and Arthur, dressed in a black leather jacket over his Harley Davidson, is determined to face any enemy, Mayara struggles to find clues that could save her life and decide her own heart.

In the end, one thing is certain: in a game of love, revenge, and power, no one leaves unscathed.

From growling beasts in the woods to possessive men in penthouses, from scandalous threesomes under silk sheets to Santa's very naughty lap...Crave is a shameless collection of erotic shorts where anything goes and no fantasy is too filthy.
Whether it's a witch getting wrecked by her summoned demon, a sweet librarian bent over by her best friend's dad, or two enemies going down instead of throwing punches...this book doesn't slow down for breath. Straight. Gay. Monsters. Mortals. Magic. Each story is short, dirty, and unapologetically hot.
You're not here for love. You're here to get off. So get in, stay wet, and Crave harder.
18+ ONLY | EXTREMELY EXPLICIT | ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK

I was the Luna of the Luthor Pack, the fated mate of Alpha Vincent. I once crawled through a snowstorm, begging for his essence blood to save our dying daughter. His only answer? A boot to my hand and a sneer: "Dream on, you shameless whore."

He shackled me to a silver rack, forcing me to watch faked videos of my "infidelity." To him, I was a corrupt stray; to me, he was my life, my soul, and my tormentor. He finally spat, "Since you love being serviced by men, let my pack have their fill of you," and sold me at an underground auction.

That night, my world shattered. My daughter was tossed into a pit of mad wolves, and I was discarded like trash. But when I finally broke free, I didn't want his love—I wanted revenge. Yet, the moment I disappeared, the man who once stepped on my neck began to lose his mind, hunting the world to find me.

"Marcella, come back," he begged, eyes bloodshot with obsession.

I looked at him, my heart a hollow void. "Alpha, you're too late. I died the day you threw our daughter to the wolves."

Daisy is the illegitimate daughter of Mr. Hubert. His company went bankrupt, so he asked for help from Drkov's house. They agreed to help Mr. Hubert but with one condition. One of his two daughters must marry their nephew - Atlas Drkov. Atlas Drkov is a billionaire but he is disabled and uses a wheelchair. Yaretzi—daughter of Mr. Hubert's official wife—does not accept marrying a disabled man. She and her parents make a plan. They kidnap Daisy's mother, threaten her, and force her to marry Atlas. To save her mother, she accepts. However, after getting married, she falls in love with this man, and so does he. Difficulties start from here.

My story is about an older guy who takes an instant liking to a much younger girl. They are both opposites, one is a mafia boss and the other is a flight attendant who is running from her past and starting afresh in a new city where she meets the love of her life.

Ignite Your Darkest Desires
Do NOT open unless you're ready to BURN
Do NOT read unless you crave the HOTNESS.
A filthy, pulse-pounding collection of taboo erotica crafted exclusively for 18+ sinners who live for the forbidden rush.
Inside, you'll devour:
Stepfather-stepdaughter secrets: that drip with guilt-soaked lust, his rough hands claiming what he shouldn't, her tight, trembling body arching under him in the dark.
Exhibitionist thrills: strangers' eyes devouring every exposed inch as she's fucked against fogged glass, her cries muffled by his palm.
Voyeuristic obsessions: hidden cameras catching every slick slide, every gasp as step-siblings finally snap, bodies colliding in a frenzy of sweat and sin.
Kinky one-shots that push every limit: cuffs biting wrists, blindfolds heightening every wet lick, every brutal thrust until you're begging for release.
Each story is a standalone inferno, different bodies, different taboos, same blistering heat. Feel the throb between your thighs, the slick ache building, the shudder when they finally give in.
Lock the door. Let the flames consume you. You've been warned.

One night. That’s all Detective Samantha Cross wanted.
One night to forget the rules.
One night to feel something other than pressure, guilt, and routine.
One night to do something reckless—just like her friends begged her to.
But the morning after brings more than regret.
She wakes up in a hotel room… and walks straight into the biggest case of her career:
The Governor’s daughter, murdered in the room next to hers.

And her number one suspect?
The same dangerously charming stranger she just slept with.
His name? Rowan Drake.
His profession? One of the country’s most elusive con artists.
His alibi? Her.
Samantha knows he didn’t do it. She was with him.
But if she admits that, she risks everything—her badge, her reputation, her career.
Now, trapped between duty and desire, she’s forced into an impossible alliance.
To clear his name, she’ll have to work side by side with the man who could ruin her.
And as the lies close in and the body count rises, one truth becomes dangerously clear:
The real killer is still out there…
And he’s watching them both.

Through Realms of Sins is a collection of taboo and steamy stories where passion knows no boundaries.
In different worlds and timelines, an Omega woman becomes the obsession of powerful Alphas: CEOs, kings, mafia bosses, and supernatural beings.
Every story would whisk you away into a world of dark romance and irresistible desire, where the lines between love and lust fade away.
The Alphas are cruel, but the Omega is no helpless prize, challenging their control and unleashing parts of them that didn't even know they existed.This is an R18 Omegaverse anthology filled with tension, power play, and fiery passion.
Each story is hotter than the last, each loves a battlefield of strong desires. Enticing you through Realms of Sins which will leave you breathless for more.
CAUTION! EROTIC. DARK ROMANCE. MULTIPLE STEAMY STORIES, R18, RAW. INTENSE.

After spending 6 gruesome years in the world most feared prison, Elias Barton is released. But he is not just a regular human anymore.
He has acquired the magical skill of Eastern medicine.
On his release, he is betrayed by the people who promised to stand by him, and now, with his skill, he vows to rise to the top and male everyone of them pay.

#Memories disappear but feelings don't#

What happens if her ex is her boss and she has no idea it's him?

Will feelings bring them back together?

Join the journey of life with Anna to see whether destiny will take her back to HIM.

Looking forward to hearing from you

In her previous life, Emily Charles has endured the betrayal of her husband, the manipulative works of his evil adoptive sister and the harsh treatment of her in-laws. Everything warrants her family bankruptcy and her ultimately death.

Now re-given a second chance in life, Emily sworn to deal with those who wronged her and planned to see her enemies begging for mercy on their knees, but just as she continued with her plans, unknown to her, she captured the heart of unattainable man from her past who suddenly set his sight on her.

“You're such a wild fire, and I wondered why you ignored me before” he said in a low alluring voice that stirred up something strange in her.

“But this time, I must capture your heart whether you like it or not”

The wife in the cryogenic chamber had only three minutes left.

I had an iron hook pierce my collarbone, and my knees shattered while kneeling at a lavish banquet. Wine glasses smashed at my feet, flashbulbs were pointed at my face, and everyone was laughing—the former war god of the North, now less than a dog.

Victor stomped on the remote control and smashed it.

When the red light of the three-minute countdown popped up, I raised my head. The sealing nails on my shoulders were blasted away by the qi, and what surged from the dark golden depths of my eyes made the entire building tremble.

He crushed over a hundred mercenaries with a single punch.

He tore open the alloy gate with his bare hands.

One hundred thousand black-armored demons knelt down from the darkness, and their commander cut off his own arm to plead guilty.

I pressed the full-frequency communication button, draped in a blood-patterned cloak: "Seven days. Make the three great empires hand over the restorative herbs. If even one herb is missing—wipe out the entire nation."

He knelt before his wife, he fought his way through the world for her. The moment she awoke was the beginning of this world paying its debt.

I donated a kidney to my adopted sister.

Seven days later, I lay on the cold hospital bed, listening to my fiancé and family laughing down the hall.

They were popping champagne to celebrate my adopted sister's discharge.

No one remembered I had just had surgery. No one remembered my nut allergy.

When someone handed me a plate of almonds, I smiled.

I shoved them into my mouth, handful after handful, and swallowed them down. Then I told them I was done fighting for their love.

My fiancé demanded I postpone our wedding. My brother beat me until I bled and locked me on the rooftop to die.

After being abandoned eighty-eight times, I finally learned how to love myself—by cutting everyone who failed me out of my life.