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Late nights. Locked doors. No rules. An innocent curvy intern stays late to “finish reports,” only to find herself bent over her CEO’s glass desk, skirt shoved up, begging for his thick cock to ruin her tight pussy with raw, relentless strokes until hot cum drips down her trembling thighs while the city lights watch. A “straight” roommate sneaks into bed in the middle of the night, spreading his best friend’s ass and claiming him with deep, filthy breeding until he’s moaning, leaking, and unable to walk straight the next morning. Best friends share wine and secrets that turn into hungry tongues, scissoring, and strap-on pounding on the couch, soaking each other in squirt after violent squirt. A stressed wife books a private session with her personal trainer and ends up face-down on the gym mat, ass up, getting her dripping cunt destroyed while he growls filthy praise between punishing thrusts. Every story in ‘Irresistible Cravings’ drips with forbidden heat: Boss/employee power plays. Step-family taboos. First-time gay awakenings. Friends-to-lovers filth. Risky public and semi-public fucks. Raw breeding. Anal obsession. Possessive mafia captors. Knotting wolves. Glory holes. Multiple loads. Edging that breaks you. And climaxes so intense they leave you shaking. M/F dominance. M/M rough claiming. F/F sensual surrender. 100% raw. No limits. No regrets. Short, filthy, addictive stories. Lock your door. Because once you start reading 'Irresistible Cravings', your hand won’t stop moving.

I get cyberbullied by the elderly people in my community. Apparently, they've uploaded videos, claiming that my charity kitchen that sells one-dollar meals not only sells bad food, but I've also sold them at ridiculously high prices. During the first year of the kitchen's establishment, I've sunk 420 thousand dollars and given it my all in running the kitchen. But all I receive in return is the Internet's backlash on me, which calls me for being a vile person. So, I decided to go along with the public opinion by shutting down the kitchen entirely. Then, I transform the venue into a card room that costs ten dollars per hour. As soon as the notice is posted, the entire community goes nuts. The elderly people's children soon show up on my doorstep and beg me to reopen the kitchen.

My mom is a retired supermodel. She's added a monitor to the weight scales at home so that she can monitor my and my sister, Abigail Teller's perfect body weight. If my data goes up by 0.1%, Mom will ban me from eating for the next three days. But the thing is, Abigail keeps eating fried chicken every day, yet her monitor's light is always green. Mom claims that Abigail's still going through puberty. I defend myself, saying that I've gained weight because of the bloating caused by my period. As Mom points at the red light emitted by my monitor, she exclaims, "The data is never wrong! If you've gained weight, that means you've been snacking far too much!" After getting punished many times, I begin believing that being fat is a sin. On the night of my 20th birthday, the long-term diet I've been placed on has triggered my kidney failure, which causes me to bloat up everywhere. I kneel on the floor and plead to Mom that I'm seriously ill. But that's when the monitor lets out a shrill alarm. When Mom sees the 5% increase in my body fat data, she puts me through a devillish punishment. I can feel the electric currents jolting through my body. "It's bad enough that you've secretly snacked on cake, but to even lie in my face about your illness? I'd like to see how long you can stay stubborn for!" Having said her piece, Mom locks the door and takes Abigail out to celebrate her birthday. I guess Mom is correct. Monitors never lie. I'm the one who's at the wrong for being a glutton. That's why I've transformed into a monster who doesn't deserve any love at all. I'm sorry, Mom. I'll only drink water in my next life.

BOOK 2 OF THE EXCITING PARANORMAL ROMANCE THRILLER SERIES: VICKIE: Doctor by day. Werewolf Hunter by night... Just when things with the zombies looked like they were under control and behind them, Vickie Anderson's life goes topsy turvy when her true love, the very independent Dr. Peter Thomason, returns to Africa and werewolves appear. With the arrival of werewolves to her mountains, Vicki and her friends must figure out a way to deal with and eliminate them. To add to her stress, heartache, and confusion, friends who she thought were friends turn out to be enemies and new love is offered, but is she ready to trust and accept it? If you enjoyed book one of the Adventures of Vickie Anderson titled, VICKIE: Doctor by day. Zombie Hunter by night, don't miss reading book two! It's equally entertaining and even more sizzling.

I rented a house with a bloody history because it was cheap. On the first night after moving in, the faucet turned on by itself. I yelled into thin air, “Are you paying the water bill?!” The water instantly stopped flowing. I thought that was just the beginning of the ghost not bothering me. Unexpectedly, the next day, I saw a main course with two side dishes prepared on the dining table.

When my husband and I drop by his childhood home for Christmas dinner, my mother-in-law, Melissa Potter, is the only one busying away in the kitchen. Everyone else is on their phones. I've just taken a seat when Melissa begins to lecture me. "What, are you just going to sit your ass down and wait for food to come? Don't you know when to lend a helping hand? Am I supposed to exhaust myself for your sake?" From time to time, she keeps rattling the pots and pans loudly. "I can't believe those with healthy bodies want a 70-year-old like me to serve them! Does anyone here have any conscience?" Feeling a little uneasy, I gave my husband a tiny nudge. "Why don't you help Mom out?" After Melissa hears my suggestion, she gets even more pissed off. Thinking that this is my first Christmas with my in-laws, I don't really want to cause a scene here, so I get up to my feet and help her out. But the moment I enter the kitchen, Melissa delegates all the tasks to me. I endure my fury as much as I can while finishing the Christmas dinner preparations. When I'm about to head back to the dining table and dig in, Melissa suddenly speaks up. "Hold up. We got scores to settle before dinner."