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“This fire could consume us both, ‘querida’.” Slowly, he kissed each knuckle of her hand, causing zings of pleasure to curl up and down her body. “Once I start kissing you, I might never stop. Ever!” A shudder of pleasure went through her at those words. Pleasure… Desire… Fear. “Come,” he said, “it’s late. It’s time for bed.” Have you ever wished you could start your life all over again? Spain… Marbella… a tall, dark, handsome man. This seemed the perfect start to a unique love story. And it was... for a while. The gorgeous heiress Calleigh decides to go to Spain for a short vacation. Once she arrived here, she fell under the spell of the powerful and breathtaking Spanish tycoon Gabriel De León in a hot-blooded encounter that took away her soul, heart, innocence… and memory. Gabriel looked everywhere for Calleigh Swanson and found her in a hospital, lost and lonely. Her betrayal left him angry and disappointed. So, what better way to punish the woman who nearly ruined him than to marry and destroy her body and soul? Only she's now carrying… his child.

She died on the night of her anniversary. Now she’s back. She has one year to destroy everyone who killed her. Jade spent her life begging for love from her family, her best friend, and the man she married. Instead, they poisoned her. They faked her illness. They stole her future. And they waited for her to die so they could claim her secret trust fund. But fate makes a mistake. Jade wakes up at the altar. This time, she walks away. Desperate to protect herself from the people plotting her death, Jade proposes a contract marriage to the mysterious Zayn Hemsworth. He agrees to her contract marriage with one condition—no questions. But Jade doesn’t know the truth. Zayn has been watching her for years. Long before she ever noticed him. And he’s already broken the most important rule: He’s falling for her. Now Jade has 365 days to stop her murder and expose every betrayal. But revenge doesn’t come easy. As secrets begin to surface and enemies close in, Jade realizes something terrifying: She didn’t just marry a stranger. She may have married the devil. And this time… love might be the most dangerous trap of all. How will she survive him without burning? Content Warning: This story contains: • explicit sexual scenes • toxic relationships • emotional manipulation • violence • betrayal • morally gray characters Some scenes may be triggering for certain readers. Please read with caution.

"You came to add sweetness to my life." Damian lost his entire life because of a horrible accident, but Juliette, a young singer and songwriter will help him create a new one along with their five other friends.

Uzumaki Ryuu is a 17 year old boy who lives a peaceful life from the mountainside of Wakayama, Japan. His carefree lifestyle turned to a wicked survival 500 kilometers away. Unknown place, unfamiliar faces, stimulating courses of events; will he get back home alive? Furthermore, it is somewhere in the Red Light District, a popular town in the City of Tokyo where the legal buying and selling of teens was established. The wealthy were at the top of the social cycle; power, authority, fame, and prestige are in their hands. A commonplace for young children to be sold out by irresponsible families and Servers come to existence from the covetousness of the place, called the Service Hub; 15 years to fortify, will it be the same place again? Let us join the extraordinary boys, watch out for every clue hidden everywhere and see what the future holds for the new generations of the Servers. Unfold the mysteries, secrets, wait- will there be a friendship turning to love? Enemy to lovers? Love at first sight? Fake or true love? Hey, we must highlight the love of parents here. A/N: My first ever published BL story. Hope you like it. This is an art of dedication and hard work. All writers do. If you like my book, please support me. Thank youuuuuuu

He almost never texts me first, and in person he barely says a word. In three years together, he's never remembered a single anniversary, and he's never once suggested we celebrate a holiday. But the second I message him first, he lights up, all "baby" this and "baby" that, fussing over me, coaxing me to sleep. Sometimes I'd get this strange feeling that there were two different Noahs. His explanation was that he was just bad with words face-to-face, and that texting or voice notes felt like less pressure. I kept telling myself that being together meant meeting each other halfway. He was quiet and reserved, so I'd be the one to reach out. He forgot anniversaries, so I booked the restaurant and reminded him to keep the night free. He had no time to schedule our engagement shoot, so I handled the whole thing with the studio myself. He was too busy with work to help us move, so I packed everything alone, booked the movers, and got it all done. When I was so worn out I was about to break, I'd send him a voice note, and he'd say, "I'm so sorry, baby. The lab was insane today. I couldn't be there for you, and it kills me to watch you run yourself into the ground." Hearing how guilty he sounded, all my hurt just melted away. And that's how I carried three years of this relationship on my own, running on the flawless tenderness he only ever gave me online. Until today, when I found a program on his laptop called Boyfriend Assistant. It analyzed every message I sent and generated the perfect reply, the perfect response, every single time. Cold snap? It sent: Bundle up, baby. Time of the month? It pinged an API and auto-ordered hot chocolate to my door. All those late nights he spent "working," the gentle voice notes that lulled me to sleep, every one of them was synthesized in Noah's voice. For three years, the person who'd been there for me, day and night, was never Noah at all. For three years, I'd been performing a one-woman show.

I'm the type who has the urge to overshare my life with him. It can be anything, be it the flowers blooming by the side of the road, the unpleasant coffee I end up having, or the sunset I've seen when I'm on my way home from work. Heck, when I think of Edwin Howell all of a sudden, I can't resist texting him at all. His replies are always short and perfunctory, though I suppose they count as a form of response from him. Hence, over the past six months, I've relied on these cold-sounding yet present replies to give me enough strength to deal with the engagement party, go wedding gown shopping, and choose the wedding venue all by myself. Somehow, I've managed to hang in there till the week before the wedding. But five days before the wedding, I discover an AI program that's installed within Edwin's computer. It can categorize every single sentence that I've sent to Edwin and extract the keywords. Then, it'll draft the most perfunctory responses that will never go wrong. If I miss Edwin, the AI will reply, "Mm-hmm." If I feel aggrieved, the AI will reply, "Got it." When I try to vent my frustrations to Edwin, the AI will reply, "Don't make such a big deal out of it." It turns out that Edwin isn't the one who has been responding to my need to overshare. The thing is, he has been texting another woman nonstop in another private chat. They talk about anything and everything under the sun, from exchanging simple good mornings and good nights to asking, "What are you having for lunch today?" and "Do you wanna go to the beach someday?" Finally, I realize that Edwin isn't the silent type who keeps his love in. If anything, he's the flashy type who will proclaim his love anywhere, anytime. It's just that… his love has never been mine to have. As for me, I've finally made up my mind to stop spending my life waiting for a response that will never come.