I Thirst For You

The Alpha King's Claim

"Love me or hate me, either way I'm already on your mind. I win. You lose." *** As the Alpha King of all werewolves and lycans, Aero needed to be fair to all. He ruled with an iron fist, a steady head and a balanced emotion. He was perfect in everything except for one. He had issues with the opposite sex. Since a child, he hated women. He never liked them and always avoided them. However, what if a woman suddenly materialized on his bed just as he was about to sleep? How could he avoid her then? Genre: Werewolf Romance, Fantasy, Mystery, Adventure, Smut Status: Complete All Rights Reserved JMFelic Books 2020 THIS BOOK IS COPYRIGHTED BY THE GOVERNMENT OF THE PHILIPPINES. THE AUTHOR HAS GIVEN MOBOREADER ONLY AUTHORIZATION TO POST THIS STORY IN THEIR APP. THIEVES WILL BE DEALT WITH ACCORDINGLY.

My Scythe-Wielding Husband

"Until death do us part." Those were the words that had clung in the recesses of Solene's mind as she stood at the center of the altar with her soon-to-be-husband. True that she had been favored by accidents since she was still a child and that probably, one of these accidents would end their marriage early if she weren't careful. Little did she know though, that when the vows were said, her groom meant it literally. Only this time, it had a twist. A spell-binding, delightfully-inviting twist. All Rights Reserved JMFelic Books 2020 Book Cover by Whendell Souza Lira THIS BOOK IS COPYRIGHTED BY THE GOVERNMENT OF THE PHILIPPINES. THE AUTHOR HAS GIVEN MOBOREADER ONLY AUTHORIZATION TO POST THIS STORY IN THEIR APP. THIEVES WILL BE DEALT WITH ACCORDINGLY.

I CRAVE FOR YOU

Book 2 of I THIRST FOR YOU Once enemies in the past, now lovers. Amanda wishes to help Cord break his curse without sacrificing her life. Cord wishes to protect Amanda from himself. How will their relationship work when their past comes to invade them?

I SUMMON YOU

"Oh, Marcus, Marcus, Marcus..." the demon drawled. "I don't like how you ignore me earlier you know." "When have I ignored you?" Marcus felt his skin hairs raise when Heron grazed his lips on the plane of his neck. "This lunch." "I didn't!" But then Heron's hand moved to pinch the skin on his chest. This ultimately made Marcus whimper, "Ahh... Sir Heron!" "I couldn't fucking fight this battle anymore, Marcus. I'm done being patient." His hands left the boy's shirt, traversing up and into Marcus' tensed face. "Oh, how I love the way your lips quake Marcus. Let's begin our training shall we?" And with that, Heron closed the gap of their mouths for the first time. ~ 0 ~ With Marcus still deciding if he should pursue becoming an exorcist priest or not, he was left with an ancestral house to care for. He needs all the help he can get to clean the house spic-and-span and the demon general of Infernal Armies, Bael, posing as a human butler, Heron, is willing to help him do so. However, surely enough, cleaning is not the only thing the demon wants to do the whole day... WARNING TO THE READERS: This is a manxboy spin.off story of Marcus and Heron, my supporting characters in SANCTUM. Please don't be confused because this story is in no way related to Sanctum although the names, setting and characters are the same. Think of this as in a parallel universe. Marcus definitely didn't become gay before he became a priest and met Ysabelle in Resurrect Thy Heart. I made this story to satisfy my other readers rooting for Heron and Marcus's relationship. And just as always, I never want to disappoint my readers. So if this story is not for you, then please don't read. However, you'd find a very surprising ending in the end. Thanks!

Remembering the Gravity

My eyes widened as he quickly reached out and pulled me against his chest, his hands wrapping my waist like a snake. I was trapped. "It hurts me to know that you are being touched by another man other than me, Lianne. You find his kisses pleasurable? I will show you what a real kiss is." With those words out, my mind went blank. I stiffened. I couldn't do anything when his face inched nearer. I couldn't explain the feeling when our lips touched, but I honestly thought I was in euphoria. His lips massaged mine with finesse and oh, I didn't care less if I was breathing or not. Despite my surprise, I reciprocated it, sparred my tongue with his and traced his perfect jawline with my hands. I can't explain it, but there was this longing feeling inside me. A longing I can't deny myself. The moment he first kissed me in my apartment, I honestly wanted more. Was that even our first kiss? Or had he kissed me so many times before just like my dreams had numerously suggested to me? A sequel to Ceaseless Gravity. All Rights Reserved 2020 JMFelic Books

Lost In Time

"How could you... last night... I was helpless! You are the one who molested me! And you dare do it again now!" she huffed. Khail wasn't affected with her crying. "Yes, I dare. You are just too sweet not to be tasted." His statement rang deep in the back of her mind. These were the words of an insensitive, cold-hearted demon. No more, no less. He was lusting on her, yes he was, and that was the rightful particular emotion of choice. "I said don't come any closer!" she cried again when she noticed him inching more towards her. "I will stab you! I swear I will stab you demon or not!" she threatened, but it was only gibberish talk for Khail. "Nonsense Selene. Stab me if you want," he urged and this surprised her greatly. He continued to close in on her and this time, Selene didn't hesitate plunging the knife into his chest. ~ 0 ~ Easy for Supernaturals to live their life in what everybody calls 'forever'. That is easy for angels yes, but for demons, it is most likely a damnation of boredom. And that is the truth. However, how much more would it be for a demon who has a unique power to wield time and space? What is HE to do with such an unlimited lifetime then? Genre: Supernatural Romance, Smut, Mystery All Rights Reserved 2018 JMFelic Books

The Spoiled Girl

Emily, was a just simple girl living a simple life when one day she received a call from the police that changed her entire life. Everything that happened since then was nothing short of a roller-coaster ride. She soon found out that her long-time boyfriend, Jack Newman, was cheating on her with her best friend. As if things weren’t bad enough, she accidentally ended up in Jack’s uncle’s car, where they ended up – doing it. Soon, Emily found herself in a tug-o-war between her ex, Jack and his uncle, Jacob.

Bound By Vows, Sealed In Love

After a year apart, Iris caught her husband, Caden, in what looked like an affair and made up her mind to file for divorce. Caden pinned her to the wall, his breath warm, his tone lazy and cold. "Divorce? Fine. But didn't we agree to have a child? Give me one, then we're done-assuming you can keep me interested long enough to want one. Until then, don't count on it." And so began her desperate, humiliating journey to get pregnant-not out of love, but for freedom. Later, the man who never begged cracked first, voice wrecked with tears. "Forget the kid. Just don't leave me."

The Billionaire's Secret Triplets: Mom's Revenge

Six years ago, I was a naive girl sold by my father to the powerful Sanders estate, only to be tossed onto the streets after a brutal assault they labeled "marital infidelity." I fled the country pregnant and broken, hiding from the shadow of a husband I had never even met. Now, I've returned to New York with my triplets to sign the final divorce papers and disappear forever. But Archibald Sanders-the man I was told was a crippled recluse-intercepted us with the cold precision of a predator. He didn't see the woman his family destroyed; he saw a gold-digger who had shamed his name. His security team hunted us to a grimy motel, using tactical force to snatch my children away and drag me to his glass-walled empire. In his office, he loomed over me, demanding a DNA test and threatening to throw me in prison while my babies were lost to the foster system. He was convinced I'd cheated, yet he stared at my sons with a haunting confusion, unable to ignore the stormy blue eyes that were a perfect mirror of his own. I stood there, paralyzed by his scent-the sharp tang of rain and expensive leather that triggered the icy dread of my worst nightmares. How could he accuse me of betrayal when he felt exactly like the monster who had shattered my life in that dark hotel room? "I'll sign anything," I sobbed, "just give me my kids." But the game changed when my five-year-old son hacked the tower's security, holding the skyscraper hostage to save me. In the chaos, a fragile, silent boy-Archibald's secret son-wandered into the room and reached for me as if I were his missing soul. Archibald's face turned to stone as he tore up the agreement and locked the doors. "Until I find out why my son is looking at you like that," he growled, "you aren't going anywhere."

The Silent Bride's Billion Dollar Contract

My bank account showed exactly $42.18, and my student loan notifications were flashing red. I lived in a sweltering Queens apartment with my Aunt Lydia, where the air was thick with the smell of stale frying oil and the constant threat of being homeless. Lydia handed me a grainy photo of a man twice my age and told me she had already "sold" me to him. He was a dry cleaner looking for a wife, and in exchange for my hand, he would pay off her credit cards and my debt. If I didn't show up for the date that night, my boxes would be on the curb by midnight. I arrived at the cafe in a state of panic, my selective mutism making it impossible to even breathe. In the crowded room, I accidentally sat at the wrong table. Instead of the man from the photo, I found myself facing Gerhard Holcomb—the cold, terrifyingly handsome billionaire whose family owned the very museum where I worked. He didn't send me away; instead, he studied my trembling hands and offered me a different deal: a two-year contract marriage, a two-million-dollar payout, and a strict clause forbidding any children. I signed the papers and moved into his Park Avenue penthouse, thinking I was finally safe. But when I went back to the old apartment to retrieve the only memento of my dead parents, Lydia lashed out, leaving me bleeding from a head wound. Gerhard’s retaliation was absolute—he had her arrested and her building foreclosed on within hours, claiming he was simply "protecting his assets." As I recovered in his silent, glass-walled home, I saw a call from a famous socialite flash on his phone, and a cold truth settled in my gut. I wasn't just a wife; I was a placeholder, a silent shield used to fend off the women from his past. I looked at the massive pink diamond on my finger and realized the silence I had lived in my whole life was about to become my most expensive prison. I had traded a life of poverty for a high-stakes game of shadows, and now I had to survive the man who claimed to own me.

Rejected Luna, Claimed by the King

As a wolfless charity case at the Hyde Pack's celebration, my world shattered when Braydon, my supposed protector, publicly announced Katherine Parrish as his Luna, erasing me. Heartbroken, I fled into a terrifying contract marriage with Alpha King Dallas Marshall for protection. Braydon's public assault and threats forced me to reveal my secret marriage, challenging the King. My "protection" felt like a prison. Braydon revealed I was a "key" to power, not a mate, confirming my fears. Enraged by my attempt to take a morning-after pill, Dallas forced me to swallow it, then branded my lips with a furious kiss. His chilling silence hardened my resolve. I immediately drafted an addendum to our contract, setting strict boundaries to reclaim control.

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.