Down To The Bone Undertale Novels & Stories

At the end of the day, my colleague, Melody Christie, came to find me. She wanted me to cover her night shift. I turned her down because I had commitments after work. That night, she was caught abandoning her shift and she got fired. Melody blamed me for it. Just when I was almost going into labor, she pushed me down the stairs. "Do you know how hard I worked to get this job? If it was not for you, I wouldn't have been fired! If I'm going down, I'm taking you down with me!" I died, and my baby did not survive either. When I opened my eyes once more, I was back to the same day when Melody asked me to cover her shift. Only this time, I knew the truth. Turns out, she had left her shift for a rendezvous with my husband.

My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.

When my best friend died, his wife, Mia Lewis, was eight months pregnant. Mia said she didn't want her baby growing up without a father. I owed my best friend my life. He saved me, literally pulled me from death's door. So I stepped up, marrying Mia and raising their son as my own. Mia loved her career, so I quit mine. Traded my job for diapers and school runs. For seven whole years, I cooked, cleaned, folded laundry, and handled the housework. Rain or shine, sickness or health, I was there—every single day. Mia, though? She stayed cold, distant. Her warmth only surfaced in the bedroom—and even then, it was a flicker, never a flame. Just soft sighs and breathy murmurs, like she was playing a role she couldn't wait to finish. Afterward, she would quietly check the condom, as if she couldn't trust me. Then came New Year's Eve. A snap. A tear. A broken condom. Her fury struck like a thunderclap. She locked me out on the balcony, left me standing in the freezing rain, soaked to the bone as the wind howled like a wounded beast. Teeth chattering, I shivered as I watched the door like a dog, waiting to be let in. Then I saw him. Our boy, Ethan Bailey. Six years old. My son, at least in name. He came running with an umbrella in his hand. For a second, my heart leapt. 'Maybe, just maybe…' But he didn't even look at me. Just walked past in silence and handed the umbrella to the nanny heading out. Right then and there, something inside me cracked. I knew it was time to go.

“Don’t you ever resist me again,” he breathed, his words brushing my skin like fire. One hand held my wrists captive above my head; the other traced the line of my throat, caging me against the wall. I looked up at him. My tormentor, my weakness, and the man I craved like sin itself. --- A fire stole her childhood. A contract stole her freedom. Now, a man dressed in a suit that costs more than her life is about to steal her heart. And possibly destroy what’s left of her soul. Evie remembers nothing before the fire, only the smell of smoke, the sound of screams, and a name she can’t forget. Years later, her life is a cycle of debt, slavery, and forced silence. She works herself to the bone while living in the shadow of her perfect cousin, never realizing she was born into a secret far darker than her life. Until the night she’s traded — like property to repay an old family debt — to a man no one dares to speak about. A man whose reputation bleeds power, cruelty, and blood. But instead of chains, he offers her a deal. Marry him, obey him. And never ask questions. Just business. But every time he touches her, the line between fear and longing blurs. His presence unearths flashes of her past, and memories that burn her alive. Because her husband is not who he seems. And the fire that destroyed her life didn’t happen by accident. As their marriage turns into a war of control and desire, Evie finds herself caught between the man who owns her and the truth that could set her free. But freedom comes with a great price. And love is the priciest thing she's ever had.

Luke moved then. Fast. Too fast. One second he was across the room, the next he was in front of her, towering over her like a wall of heat and fury. His hands came up, gripping her arms not gently, not cruelly, but with a force that said he was one second from shattering. “You think I don’t fight for you every damn day?” His voice was low, dangerous, vibrating with something raw. “You think I don’t take bullets for you behind the scenes? Every single move I make is to keep you breathing, Abigail. So don’t you dare stand there and act like I’m doing nothing.” Her breath hitched, but the anger didn’t stop burning. “Then say it to her. Say it to their faces instead of hiding behind silence like a coward!” Something snapped in his eyes then something sharp and blazing. And before Abigail could blink, his mouth was on hers. The kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was a collision hard, punishing, desperate. All the rage, the fear, the need that had been coiling between them exploded like fire. Abigail gasped against him, her hands going up to his chest, meaning to push him away except she didn’t. Just couldn’t. Because the second his tongue slid against hers, the second his body pressed flush against hers, every bone in her body melted. Luke growled low in his throat, a sound that made heat curl deep in her belly. He spun her, slamming her gently but firmly against the wall, his hands framing her face as he devoured her mouth like he’d been starving for years.

Derek has led a hard life. He was always looked down upon, bullied, made to look weak. To make matters worse, he was kicked out of the family house after being falsely accused of doing something wrong. Just when he all thought this was the end, an unexpected twist turned his life around. ------------------ Sequel, Who's the loser 2: The Don of Townsville, continues this unique novel. As the heir to his empire, Derek now has an unlikely right-hand man, his cousin Charles Smith, working in the shadows as the Don of Townsville. A new threat looms to take down Derek, Charles and their families and friends. Can they work together to take down this threat?

DARK DESIRES TRAPPED WITH THE MAFIA BOSS SYNOPSIS •°•°• His fingers continue down, trailing softly along my shoulders and down my arms feel electrifying even though it's so light. "I feel guilty"He grumbled, His eyes trailed down my chest. "For what?"I stuttered, trying not to look at his enchanting eyes. His eyes flick into mine, Filled with lusts and desires at the same time. He leans down to me and presses his cold, soft lips to the crook of my neck. "For the things I'm going to do to you"He whispered darkly. •~• Fight depression, Get a scholarship, Get a good job after school, Work on her confidence, That was Alessia plan after her mom got married four months ago. Not until she found herself in a new life, Filled with guns, Violence and massacres. She has no other choice than to being on the run with Enea, A mafia lord to avoid being kil*led by his father.

With his gaze fixed on her, Ryker Parted his lips, moving his hand down until it was on her shoulder covered robe. As he trailed down further with a feather like touch, a stream of tingles erupted on Tamara's skin. Her heart thumped at the feeling of her mate's touch, awakening the feelings that had since subsided. 'So smooth. ' Low, sexy voice enveloped her form as he pushed the edges of her robe off her shoulders. Her eyes followed the robe as it fell down and pooled by her feet. Anticipation, his beast panted and salivated as he admired the goddess before him. She enthralled him, man and beast were bound by the woman. 'Please. ' A spell binding whisper called on to him, her green eyes becoming slightly watery. She took his hands, guiding them up and down her stomach. ****** Tamara is an orphaned witch with multiple abilities in her sleeve. She lives in a pack of werewolves as the only witch, hated and looked down upon by many. However, everything changes when her mate turns out to be the Alpha of the pack, Alpha Ryker. Their relationship is fated and so is Tamara's ability to save the pack. Alpha Ryker and Tamara must team together to defeat the enemy, following a prophecy about the very witch the pack hates. Nothing is as easy as it seems, and secrets get revealed through out their journey as leaders of the pack.

Things weren't always as simple as it was made to, he was cursed and she was an human who had no idea of the world she belonged to–two worst combination. She was meant to be the antidote to his curse but ended up bringing him down with her. Is love always enough? Enough to quench the fire they had both started? Two worlds scrambled down unknowingly

My husband doesn't touch me on our wedding night. He claims he's too tired and asks me to wait. Then, he sneaks into the basement in the wee hours of each night. Whenever he returns, he needs to shower to wash away an indescribable smell. I ask him what he does down there, and he tells me he works out. Why would anyone work out in the middle of the night? I can't take it anymore. One night, I decide to sneak into the basement to see what's going on down there. He chases after me and grabs my pajamas, roaring, "Come back up here! I'll divorce you if you step foot down there!"