Pulp Fiction Opening Theme Novels & Stories

“Let’s have a child….right now,” “What?”Amelia took her steps back in terror, hearing his words. She immediately covered her naked body with her arms which intensified the rage in his eyes. “Yes…... We both hate each other and we both know the only way to break this f*cking marriage of ours is for you to give birth to my child, so….” he uttered through a clenched jaw while opening the buttons of his shirt. Amelia hugged herself more tightly, seeing him coming closer to her. “Stop. You….” He placed his index finger over her lips, halting her words. “Tonight, you will just moan my name,” his voice grew deeper. The rage in his eyes shifted to something more sinful. She swallowed, feeling his palms cupping her naked waist. “This is not….” “Ssshhhh…” he pulled her closer in his arms. “Let me have you tonight, my princess….” Whispering those words, he kissed that girl in his embrace whom he claimed to hate the most in his life. ……….. The deal was simple. Callum Morelli, the ruthless Lycan Prince, needed to kill the werewolf princess, Amelia Ashwood, to break the curse on him of being an infertile, but…..this simple deal took a dark turn when after finding Amelia after a search of years…..instead of killing her, his father commanded him to marry Amelia and make her give birth to his child. But how would Callum make Amelia give birth to his child when he had hated her all his life? He hated her innocent smile, her beautiful green eyes, her softly-warm skin. He hated everything about her, so how? The cruel Lycan prince surely received the answer that one sinful night when he couldn't control himself and touched her like… he owned her. ………..

“Take off your clothes, Ms. Hadley,” “What?” Esme's eyes widened, hearing the mafia don, Luka Salvino. Her cruel boss was supposed to punish her for defying his order but here he was horny for her…. again. The devil before her smirked. “You are my personal assistant here, remember?” He spoke out while loosening his collar. His eyes shamelessly roamed all over her body. “So now I need you to assist me with something extremely personal,” he started opening the buttons of his shirt. Esme's heartbeat accelerated because she knew what kind of sinful assistance he was asking from her and how forbidden it was in his office. “Mr. Salvino, we can't…..” “Get here, woman ... ,” the mafia don growled, making her swallow. ……… Luka Salvino, the cruel mafia don, had always gotten what he wanted. Be it money, power, pleasure or anything, but it was until, his eyes fell on his precious new maid and a single mother, Esme Hadley, who gave him the taste of defiance, denial and disobedience, which infuriated him but at the same time, it made the mafia don crave his precious maid even more to the extent that he broke all the boundaries of madness just to make her as his. But what Luka Salvino didn't know was that his innocent maid was hiding a deep secret from him…that he was the father of her four years old daughter, Elea, and Luka was not even aware of this. So what would happen the moment when the mafia don would find out that he was the biological father of his maid's daughter and she had been keeping his own blood hidden from him for the past five years? Would the Mafia Don forgive her or his desires for her would turn into something more dangerous and diabolic?

Noami grew up with an abusive mother, and so when she turned 18, she decided to hunt her ex-stepfather down as he was the only one who ever truly cared about her. She absolutely adores him, and he adores her right back. Can their love survive, albeit changed a drunken reunion, bullies from the past, and unwanted suitors? Or will everything they face tear them apart when they just found each other again? Or will his money play a part in his demise? I tilted my head back as I fell against his chest and he immediately lowered his head to press his lips against mine. Oh, God! Not again. This was bad. I needed to pull away. Why wasn’t I pulling away? Why was I opening my mouth so he could deepen the kiss? And why were my hands going under his shirt to stroke along his muscles? Fuck! I closed my eyes as I leaned against him, enjoying the kiss more than I should. When he finally pulled away, I looked up at him mesmerized by our kiss for the second time. He grinned down at me as his eyes danced merrily. “So, were you serious about what you said?” he asked huskily, confusing me. “What did I say?” I replied. His hands moved down my body until his hands were gripping my ass. “You said you were going to let me have you.” When my mouth dropped open in shock, he groaned. “Or we can start with that if you prefer.” I snapped my mouth shut when what he meant registered in my head. “Oh, God!” He chuckled as he pulled me up his body a little so that I could feel his erection. “Say yes and I’ll make you scream that.” “I-I…yes."

SIX PACK SERIES BOOK FOUR ~ BROCK : I don't believe in happy endings. I stopped believing in them right around the time the woman I loved left me for another man. Love nearly destroyed me once, and when I picked myself back up, I swore I'd never be that stupid again. If you never give someone your heart, they can't break it- so for years, I've closed myself off; never opening up, never feeling. Growing more bitter as everyone around me finds their happy endings. Then I met Astrid. She's annoyingly perky, infuriatingly beautiful, and seems convinced that her cheerful little-miss-sunshine act can melt the ice around my heart. Worst of all, though, is some part of me wants her- and a girl like that is dangerous in my hands. She'll give me every piece of herself, only for her to break when I can't give her anything in return. ~ ASTRID : My whole life, I've gone with my gut. I get feelings about things and people that others don't get, and I've been told that it's a special gift; that I'm an 'intuitive'. I've also been accused of being an eternal optimist, which is why I'm thrown for a loop when I get hit with a gut feeling about the moodiest, broodiest guy I've ever met, like we're supposed to be something to each other. Like we're connected somehow. Trusting my gut has never let me down before, but the more time I spend with Brock, the more I wonder whether my 'gift' has gone haywire. This guy has built walls around his heart a mile thick, and he's not letting anyone through. He's living his life in the darkness, and I'm a little afraid that if I let myself get too close to him, he'll steal my light.

The shewolves in Shadow Pack all said I was lucky. Alpha Erwin Keller had doted on me alone for eight years. However, the same werewolf who swore he would only ever want to be with me gave me two 'gifts' the day I brought him home to meet my mom, Katie Spencer, to discuss our marking ceremony. The first gift was tying Katie to a chair and having his Beta rip her clothes apart right in front of me. The second gift was deliberately opening the door and letting my dad, Felix Spencer, who had already lost his wolf spirit, run outside. There was pouring rain outside. Felix ran to the edge of a cliff and fell over. Katie was still tied to the chair. She watched Felix die right in front of her. She snapped the ropes like a mad wolf and jumped off the cliff to die with Felix. In a single night, I lost both my parents. I kneeled in a pool of blood and asked Erwin why he did all this. He pinched my chin and sneered. "Lara, did you really think I loved you? I came for revenge!" It turned out that during the territorial war ten years ago, his dad died saving mine, and his mom took her own life afterward. Erwin spent eight years carefully weaving a lie of love. It was all so I could experience what it felt like to lose my entire family. Later, Erwin kept me trapped by his side and tortured me. I tried to kill myself 99 times. He saved me all 99 times. He said we would torture each other until we grew old. What he didn't know was that ten years ago, when his wolf spirit was completely destroyed and he was barely alive, I was the one who begged an Alpha from another pack to place a curse on me so that he could live. In return, I only had eight years left to live. Now, I was seven days away from my own impending doom!

Throughout my seven years of living in this residential area, I've been helping my neighbors receive their parcels and babysit their children no matter how sudden the requests are. All sorts of delivered goods have gone through my hands, be it tiny regular parcels, special deliveries containing raw seafood, or furniture and electrical appliances. My motto is that close-knitted neighbors are more dependable rather than my family, who lives very far away from me. That's why I never hesitate to lend a helping hand as long as the circumstances permit me to do so. In fact, I often deliver everyone's parcels to their units. But one day, Carmen Webber, a young woman who has just moved into the apartment, brings this topic up during a casual chit-chat with the other neighbors. "Nowadays, the parcel lockers and the parcel pickup points are very convenient to use. There's absolutely no need to specifically get someone to sign your parcels for you. Could it be that Hilary is using the guise of doing things for everyone just to make some quick bucks under the table? "After all, those who accept parcels on behalf of others tend to get paid. You guys must have slipped her some money every time you drop by her place to pick up your stuff, right? Imagine how lucrative business must be for her!" Carmen then shoots me a glance, mockery dripping from her tone. The neighbors just swap looks with each other. Then, they turn their suspicious gazes to me. That's when Carmen adds, "Next time, you can seek me out when you need someone to accept parcels and babysit children for you. I have a lot of free time on my hands, and I promise that I won't earn a single cent from you guys!" My heart goes stone cold when I listen to everyone else agreeing with Carmen. Over the past seven years, I'm the one paying for everything, be it opening my door in the middle of the night to accept a delivery, babysitting children for others, or making up for the lost packages and the spoiled seafood. Not only do I not earn a single cent, but I've also lost quite a huge amount of money. On top of that, many of my plans get delayed or rescheduled, too. Since Carmen wants to be the good Samaritan this badly, I might as well let her take over all these troublesome and thankless matters from now on.