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I didn't look where I was going. I didn't know what I ran into. "Ouch!" What... the... a brick wall. I looked up and saw a guy. Then I gasp, I felt a lump in my throat. " Hello, s**t! Did I tell you can come to the party?" Then he grabbed me, threw me into the wall in the hallway in the dark corner. He was caging me between his body and the wall. I am so scared, but I can't move. All I can do is breathe. Then he got closer to my face. " Did I give you permission to come to a party, hmmm..." he said with a growl. "No, you didn't, sir," I said. " "Ouch, please stop, you are hurting me," I whispered. He grabbed my arms, over my head, holding them so tight onto the wall. He chuckled; he likes seeing me in pain. I got the tears clouding my eyes. "Sorry, "I said. "Please let me go, Wade." He kept me on the wall with his body. "Now, Cherry, it looks like I have to punish you. "He said with a grin. Cherry 18 is a loser nerd, a nobody, she is Wade's victim and obsession! She lives in a small town where she moved in 8th grade. Wade has always been in her life, he have mix emotions. One day, he is sweet to her, and the next day, he is hateful and hurtful towards her. Wade 18 his is the bad boy player, jock, and the most popular guy in the school. He likes to control and bully Cherry! Because he wants her and he is trying to control her, but what if she takes back her control and gets braver? What will happen if she catches the eyes of more monsters?

Bought as a defect. Destined as his mate. As the last heir of the Wolf Kings, Grey Stormborn carries the burden of a dying kingdom. Bound by an ancient curse to the Everlasting Tree, his people are losing their ability to shift, their fertility, and their future. Only a rare Rona—a woman blessed with the power of flowers—can save them. Desperate, Grey purchases the only Rona he can afford. Maya is mute, timid, and utterly useless by every measure. Her flowers bloom only to wither moments later. Forced into a one-year marriage contract, Grey plans to fulfill his duty, secure an heir, and part ways forever. But beneath Maya's silence lies a devastating secret. When dragons descend upon the kingdom, she unleashes a terrifying magic capable of commanding forests and bringing armies to their knees. Suddenly, the "defective" bride becomes the kingdom's greatest treasure—and the obsession of the ruthless king who once sold her. Now Grey must protect the woman he never wanted... before he loses the mate he never knew he needed.

EZREN: Kiss or kill. Those were always the two options left.. until the past walks back into my life in the form of blue eyes, ginger curls, and a tattoo he swears I should remember. Knox Graye. A diagnosed psychopath. Says he was my brother’s boyfriend. That I left him to die and that I hold the only truth to his death. He is everywhere. Digging up my lies. Ruining what’s left of my life. Call me ‘Cherry’ like it means something. I swear I hate it. I hate him. I don’t know if he wants closure, revenge, or just someone to break. Either way, I’m his target and his third option. KNOX: Everyone thinks I’ve got a loose screw in the head but they're wrong. I lost the whole damn toolbox, buried six feet under with the only person I ever loved. I've spent six years grieving. Dying in pieces while he rots away in a grave but now? Now someone else walk around in his bones, smiling with his lips like he fuckin’ owns it. Like I wouldn’t recognize my own goddamn Cherry. Except now he calls himself Ezren. Cute. He thinks he has been hiding behind top grades and golden-boy charm, but I built his whole damn maze. And now that he's close? I’m done with subtlety. I want chaos in his veins, his secrets peeled off like skin. I want to crawl into the part of his head where he still hears his brother’s laugh and whisper: “You were always mine." He doesn’t know it yet, but I’m going to dismantle him. Brick by fucking brick. And when he finally breaks, I’ll be there to offer him a choice. “Kiss or kill, Cherry?”

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.

At the year-end company meeting, I was announcing the bonuses when a new employee suddenly raised her hand. "Over at the other company, they handed out two boxes of imported cherries at their annual party," she said, shaking her phone. "And we only get performance bonuses?" The video, maliciously edited, went viral online and hit the trending list the very next day. I had the finance department cancel all the year-end bonus transfers. "If cherries are what really count as a gesture of goodwill," I said, "then this year's year-end benefit will be cherries—fifty boxes per person." When they saw the mountain of cherries piling up before them, the employees who had once joined in mocking me panicked instantly. One by one, they cried and apologized, begging me to reconsider.

“Ms. Arnold, you really should sign this divorce agreement. Otherwise, I won’t be able to answer to Mr. Fisher.” Jeremy Fisher’s personal lawyer, Cole Stewart, stood in front of Hailey Arnold with an anxious expression. In his hands were a freshly printed divorce agreement, the pages still crisp. This was the thirty-third time Jeremy had asked to divorce her. The first time, Hailey climbed onto the rooftop and jumped. She survived but broke one of her legs. The second time, she slashed her wrist with a small knife, and blood flooded half the bathroom. The third time, she swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills and spent three days in the hospital having her stomach pumped. … Every single time, she had used death to force Jeremy to compromise, but this time, she was tired of it.