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How to Make a King (Even If You’re Really Not Into It)

How to Make a King (Even If You’re Really Not Into It)

Ember never meant to make a king. She was just trying to survive her heat without embarrassing herself in front of the massive, infuriatingly calm wolf living in the loft next door. Ember has spent most of her life keeping people at a distance. She’s stubborn, private, and perfectly happy suffering through things alone—including the inconvenient attraction she’s been pretending not to feel toward Ghost. Ghost notices everything. He notices when Ember skips meals. When she hasn’t slept. When she’s pretending she doesn’t need help. Calm, steady, and impossible to shake, he’s the kind of man who doesn’t push—but also doesn’t leave. Which becomes a problem when a violent storm destroys half of Ember’s apartment and Ghost is the one who drags her out of the wreckage. Suddenly the fiercely independent she-wolf who hates relying on anyone is stuck living next door to the one man she’s been trying not to want. Then Ember’s heat hits. What starts as proximity and stubborn attraction turns into something neither of them expected when their bond snaps fully into place—awakening a long-buried bloodline Ember never knew she carried. For generations, wolves like her were known as Kingmakers—rare mates capable of exposing corruption and keeping pack leadership honest. Twenty years ago, someone tried to wipe them out. Now Ember’s power has awakened. And the quiet city she and Ghost call home—long governed by careful politics instead of true pack leadership—is about to change. Because Ghost never wanted to be an Alpha. But Ember’s bloodline has a habit of exposing exactly the kind of wolf who should be. And Ember might have just made a king.
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If There Is Another Life, Don’t Let Her Go to Sicily Again

If There Is Another Life, Don’t Let Her Go to Sicily Again

With a sharp gunshot, my husband of twenty years, Marcus De Luca, rushed in front of me and took the bullet for me. As he lay dying, he spoke gently. “Nerina, live well.” I held him in my arms. My tears kept falling as I pressed hard against the wound in his chest. But he only touched my hair. His eyes fell on Vivian’s body. “She’s dead. I have no reason to live either.” It felt like a bullet had gone through my head. All the blood in my body froze. “She suffered in Sicily for twenty years.” “She finally came back, and now she died in front of me.” “Please stay alive. Bury me with her.” “If there is another life, don’t let her go to Sicily in your place again.” “Please make us whole.” His hand fell. My world collapsed. When I opened my eyes again, I was standing in front of Marcus’s father. The old Don looked at me. “Your wedding with Marcus is set for three days from now.” I lifted my head and spoke calmly. “Marcus’s bride should not be me. It should be Vivian.” “As for Sicily, I’ll go.”
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Never go to a tattoo artist if bad luck is following you

Never go to a tattoo artist if bad luck is following you

Brianna Lester, with her unusually platinum blonde hair and grayish-blue eyes, is impossible to miss wherever she goes. Her bubbly personality, hyperactivity, innate talent for tripping even while standing still, and her knack for always causing trouble ensure that she immediately catches the attention of the coolest tattoo artist around. Unfortunately, it's not her rather unique appearance that gets noticed, but her clumsiness. The moment she closes the door of the tattoo shop, one of the pictures hanging on the wall-the owner's favorite, and quite valuable-unexpectedly falls down. To make up for the damage, she ends up working at the shop until she can pay off the cost of the picture. It would all be pretty easy if a sexy tattoo artist didn't enjoy teasing her about her bad luck. By now, Brianna has resigned herself to the idea that her life is stuck in the "never a joy" zone, and her birthday is proof of that. Who can be considered lucky if they were born on a day that only comes once every four years? No one. Some people are kissed by fortune at birth, while others are kissed by bad luck. Brianna definitely falls into the latter category.
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A Preposterous Night

A Preposterous Night

The remnants of the pack gathering had barely faded when my whole world changed. My best friend, Hallie Richmond, vanished, snatched away by rogues. Only for her to reappear the next day, found bruised and bitten near the pack borders. My heart ached for her, so I went to her with her favourite apple pie. But the solace I intended to offer shattered into a million pieces the moment I heard the words of my boyfriend, Camilo White, our pack's beta. "...Hallie's family will destroy her if they learn of this. I have no choice but to mark her first.” "What about me, Camilo? I'm your girlfriend!" The words tumbled out. "You can be my secondary mate, Violet. It's just a small favor. Surely, if you truly loved me, you wouldn't hesitate to help?" Camilo's words ripped my heart out, breaking up with me and replacing me with Hallie for the marking ceremony we had both anticipated with such joy. From that moment forward, I became a shadow. The pack whispered words of how I was deflowered before my true mate could claim me. My family now regarded me with disappointment. My father's anger was a physical force, driving me to my knees beneath the icy waterfall. Then, the following day, a figure emerged from the mist. Alex Skye, the Alpha's son, pulled me from the water. He leaned close, his sky-blue eyes holding mine, and whispered the words that offered home: "I'm your true mate, Violet. Break up with that vile, idiotic boyfriend of yours. I believe you will be the perfect future Luna."
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My Mom Reposting My Uncensored Photos After My Death

My Mom Reposting My Uncensored Photos After My Death

I was locked in a fridge for 40 days while the uncensored photos of me spread like wildfire across the internet. In the face of the salacious rumors about me, my mother reacted by reposting them. Then, she turned to warn my sister, "Look at how disgusting the entertainment industry is. Don't join it, alright? Stay home and inherit your sister's assets instead. My dearest daughter must be innocent and pure, unlike her." She forgot. She forgot I only joined this 'disgusting' industry to pay for her cancer treatment.
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Framed by the Adopted Brother

Framed by the Adopted Brother

The day I took over the Fraser Group, my brother posted a video that completely blew up the trending topics on the internet. In the video, he spoke with righteous indignation, "Lyra Fraser is just an illegitimate daughter! What right does she have to inherit the company? "My father is incredibly biased. I demand justice for my late mother!" Hundreds of media outlets scrambled to repost the video. In an instant, the hashtag ‘#FraserGroupLyraIsAnIllegitimateDaughter’ had racked up over 200 million views. The Fraser Group's stock price plummeted drastically and my father was forced to suspend the succession ceremony temporarily. Despite the onslaught of endless abuse and curses, I didn't panic in the slightest. Because my stupid, moronic brother was just an adopted son.
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