Birthday Girl

“On all fours, baby. Now crawl to Daddy,” His velvety voice filled me with need as I dropped on my knees and crawled to him. "What do you want,gumdrop?" A dark look of lust settled over his face and I tried not to shiver at the sudden chill that ran through me. "I want you to f**k me." I swallowed hard as thrills of pleasure coursed through my body.My eyes flitted up to meet his grey orbs again, they were burning with hunger and a dark fire. "Fast and hard.”A soft whimper escaped my lips as he reached for me. “That's my good girl.” ** ** ** ** Zella Carmichael spent years harboring a secret crush on the ruthless billionaire, Isaiah King—her godfather and her father’s best friend—while pretending it was nothing more than a silly dream. So when his charming son swept her off her feet, it felt like fate offering her a safer version of the man she could never have. But fate had other plans. Just days before her engagement to Isaiah’s son, Isaiah steps in with a truth that wrecks her world: for the next 360 days, she is his. Zella believed her father gave her away to protect her from Isaiah’s threats, however she was far from the truth. Behind Isaiah’s cold steel eyes hides a man who has always been obsessed with her. And behind her father’s words lies secrets so dark, it will wreck her world. Zella is pulled into a world of passion, twisted secrets, power play, sizzling lust and betrayal. Trapped between the boy who once loved her and the man she was never meant to want… who will get her in the end—father or son? When dark shattering secrets come to light, will their love survive?

Creed is an ex sharpshooter turned bike crew President, with a rough upbringing and the scars to prove it. Nine years ago an old drunk offered him his twelve-year-old daughter for his next pint. Knowing that as fucked up as he was he was still the kid’s best bet, he took the deal. He left her with an aunt he thought he could trust because Uncle Sam owned his ass for the next little while, and he had no choice. Then his babygirl turned eighteen and shit went south, literally. He knew he had to stay the fuck away from her or she’d be under him before she could blink, but he made a deal with himself. When his babygirl hit twenty-one he was taking her no matter what. Her birthday was three days away and though he’d kept his distance for the last two and a half years he’s been keeping tabs on her. It was time to collect.Biker's Baby Girl is created by Jordan Silver an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

As my murderer's claws tear into my abdomen inch by inch, my father and brother are seated in our family's banquet hall. They're celebrating Carly's 18th birthday and coming-of-age. "You'll always be my little girl." "Happy birthday, Carly." They light 18 pink candles for her. On top of the exquisite red velvet cake is a wolf figurine that they carved for her, and there are well wishes and laughter all around. Meanwhile, I'm curled up in a sewer filled with liquid silver as I bleed to death. My phone has been crushed, and I can't get out. I can only cry for help. A few days later, my father and brother show up together at the autopsy room. My brother stands by the operating table with a scalpel. He slices open the body and sews it back up like it's nothing. My father just covers his nose as he shoots a disgusted glance at my body. He urges my brother to hurry up with the autopsy report. "The victim is a young female wolf presumed to be of pure lineage. Before her death, she was subjected to prolonged captivity and torture. Her throat is nearly severed, her cervical spine is dislocated, and her chest cavity has collapsed. She was also injected with liquid silver before death." Hearing the report, my father looks so calm that it's just like a case study of no consequence. Neither of them can recognize that the body belongs to me—their daughter and sister!

My wife, Heather Conner, secretly steals the funds I've saved up for our daughter, Naomi Hartman's surgery. After that, she books a high-class hotel for Jared Winters, the low-income student she has been sponsoring, just so she can celebrate his birthday with him. When I find out about it, I demand that Heather return all the money to me. But she slaps me immediately and blames me and Naomi for causing her trouble on purpose. "This is the first birthday Jared and I are celebrating together! Since it's such a big day, it's only natural that I hold it in a grand and lavish manner! "Instead, you two insist on undergoing that stupid surgery just when I've booked the hotel instead of scheduling it at any other time! You really are vile! "I've already inquired with the doctor about the surgery. Turns out it's completely optional! I might as well put the money to good use by giving Jared an unforgettable birthday instead of having you waste it on a useless surgery! "Even if Naomi does end up dying, that means she's fated to die anyway! You can't blame anyone for her death!" Heather just abandons Naomi, who's still fighting for her life. She then drives Jared to the hotel, where they spend the night watching a beautiful fireworks display. With 12 critical notices issued by the doctor in my hand, I kneel before Monica Brown, the richest woman in the city. "I'm willing to marry into your family as long as you pay me 35 thousand dollars' worth of wedding gifts!"

This is a story of two close friends (Courtney and Judy) and the odds that meet them as soon as Courtney turns 18. They hope for a bright future together but have no clue on things that are yet to unfold in their lives.

On my birthday, the dining table was loaded with all my favorites. My mom had been cooking and baking the entire afternoon, insisting everything be perfect for when Mike got home from work so we could celebrate together. But then, he called and said his first love had been drugged at a bar, and he had to go help her. I stopped him and begged him not to go. Mike snapped at me. "Jesus, Em, don’t pull this jealous wife crap. She’s alone, defenseless, and unconscious—I can't let some random dude take advantage of her!" My mother heard those words and was so enraged that she had a heart attack. She died on the spot. Just like that, my mom died on my birthday. I called Mike, asking him to attend my mom's funeral. But before he could reply, I saw Cathy Miller's latest Instagram post, captioned: [Mikey… after all these years, it was always you.] Mike had liked it. My thumb moved before my brain caught up, typing out the only words that mattered: [A homewrecker and a lying bastard. Hope you rot together.]