How Does One Small Island End?

They say fate cannot be changed. For Emily Wilburn, those words become a nightmare. A hardworking young woman struggling to support her family, Emily never imagined crossing paths with Cade Callaghan — a ruthless, devastatingly handsome billionaire who doesn’t believe in love, only in control. When her world collapses under debt, medical bills, and threats, Cade offers her a bargain she cannot refuse: pretend to be his fiancée and accompany him to his private family island. In return, he will erase all her problems. Desperate to save her parents, Emily agrees. But stepping onto the island is the biggest mistake of her life. Surrounded by secrets, lies, and dangerous mysteries, Emily finds herself falling for the very man she should fear. As dark truths about Cade’s past — and his connection to her own trauma — begin to surface, she realizes the bargain may cost her far more than she ever imagined. On an island of forbidden desire and deadly secrets, how long can she pretend… before the lines between fake and real completely disappear?

Celine Pierce… a fashionista and an heiress to a leading clothing company. She is accustomed to getting her own way with her model good look, charming smile, and her papa’s five credit cards. She is never truly satisfied with life as everything comes too easy. Everything… boys, bags, grades, money… everything. Life in every party. The kind of girl girls admire. She gets everything easily. Except for his heart. He never tells her how he felt, the mysterious man she met on a small island in the Mediterranean Sea. She only knows his name, and the only things she has of him are memories during those two weeks together. The two weeks that changed her whole life.

After five years of marrying into the Loween City in place of my sister, the Gambling King finally passed away. My son and my ex-husband—at long last—gave me permission to fake my death and return to them. But they laid down three conditions. First: kneel before Vivian Gray, apologize for framing her all those years ago, and surrender my place as Mrs. Hartwell. Second: work as a live-in maid for my own son for five years, and never show up at his school in my former identity as the reigning queen of the nightlife scene—lest I embarrass him. Third: drink an abortifacient to destroy my fertility forever, as recompense for the infertility I once caused Vivian. "My lady, you've endured five whole years just to earn your freedom—how dare they humiliate you like this?" My maid's eyes were red, burning with indignation on my behalf. But I just tipped my head back and swallowed the death-faking pill, letting the servants toss my "corpse" into the overgrown brambles beyond the city limits. Then, from the mud and weeds, I crawled back to the Hartwell mansion—one knee at a time. Day one, I knelt as ordered and signed over custody of my son without a fight. Day three, I locked myself in the storage closet and stopped showing up at school to pick my son up like I used to. I also stopped pestering him to call me "Mom." Even when Vivian—knowing full well I'm terrified of the dark—deliberately trapped me in the basement, I bore it in silence. By the time my ex-husband Nathan Hartwell saw me again, I was barely hanging on. For the first time, a flicker of panic crossed his face as he carried me out of that basement. But my son just sneered. "It's just another stunt to win our sympathy." When he caught the tears welling in Vivian's eyes, Nathan coldly dropped me to the ground. "Always scheming against Vivian with your dirty tricks—aren't you tired of it?" Right then, the system chimed in my ear: [Please proceed to the "disposable ex-wife death node" to complete the story line and return to your original world.] I let out a quiet laugh. "Not tired at all." And with that, I turned and dove straight into the swimming pool beside me.

Run for the money. It’s part of the show. If he catches up, he won’t let go. Anya I’m in trouble—the kind that comes from a mobster and my irresponsible father. He killed himself and left me—and my underage sisters—holding the bag. Dmitri Ivanov wants half a million within two weeks, or he’s going to force us into the sex trade and keep my sweet little sister for himself. I’m desperate, so when I see the twisted reality TV show, “The Island,” I decide to compete. It’s only one weekend, and if the hunters don’t catch me, I get a million dollars. If they do, I still get paid—and extra for being a virgin. I just have to avoid getting trapped. But when I meet Spencer, maybe I don’t mind him catching and claiming me… Spencer My brother tricks me into coming with him for a weekend of hunting. I’m not into the outdoors and have never hunted an animal before. When I find out we’re supposed to hunt women instead, I’m ready to walk out. Until Anya walks in. One look at her, and I know she’s mine. I can’t fight the primal, possessive need to catch and claim her. There’s just one problem. If I have her for the weekend, how will I ever let her go? This is a contemporary romance with suspense and dark themes. While consensual, certain fantasy elements acted out between Spencer and Anya can be triggering to sensitive readers.

Finding out you've been adopted is stressful enough but finding out that your father is the dead billionaire Benjamin Moore is mind-blowing in itself. Couple with the fact that you are part of a triplet separated at birth and with secrets and conspiracy emerging on your late father's private island, the final blow will take your breath away. NOTE: NOT FOR THE FAINT HEARTED. This story contains sexually explicit and graphic depiction of sex and a bit of incest. If this is not your cup of tea, please move on. My hope is that you readers enjoy my writing in its entirety and not base it on just its sexual nature.

After her mother's death, Mara Weber reluctantly returns to a remote island off the North German coast—a place she has repressed since childhood. What begins as a brief trip to settle the affairs of an old house quickly evolves into a nightmare of memories, secrets, and voices from the depths.