S**y Ass Detective and Me

The Rogue Alpha's Possession

"You can't kill me, Princess." He smirked. "You can't, because I won't let you and deep down, you don't want to. " I wanted nothing more than to wipe that stupid smirk from his stupidly gorgeous face. "Oh, I can and I will. Don't test me, Rogue," I growled, pushing my knife harder into his chest. He leaned even closer, and my heartbeat raced at the scent of him. "You won't because you are my mate." *** Her Highness Amber Rousseaux is a princess by day, and a rogue hunter by night. She lives for her pack, and that means eliminating it from the plague of rogues. But when she stumbles upon Drew Bronimir, the Alpha of the Rogues, who just happens to be her mate, she's faced with the impossible question: fate and desire, or her duty?

The CEO's Little Stripteuse

Take it off slowly, inch closer, tease and make 'em believe you're all theirs--Make it perfectly estatic. Abigail's code was as simple as they come, and had worked impeccably for years with her one and only rule: No touching. But when she pisses off a snob who didn't like it very much, it was up to a certain billionaire to save her from his covetous hands. Except, he isn't quite ready to let her go just yet.

Her Missing Pieces, The Alpha's Treasure

Does life have to be so complicated?  Zoey didn't think so, that is, until she receives a certain letter. When Zoey initiated her first shift on her 18th birthday, her life took a bizarre turn for what seemed like the better and the worst. She learnt something about herself that had been dangling over her head all her life, but she never understood until that moment. She vowed to learn the whole truth but she couldn't do it all alone, which left her at a dead end once again. Coincidentally not long after, she learns that her mate was the Alpha of the Truemoon Pack who automatically took a promiscuous adoration towards her. Niall helps his lost mate through all possible challenges and mountains, just so she could find those missing fragments about herself and be happy. But when she finds out the truth, will she be?

Rejected by my Bestfriend, Accepted by the Badboy

Four years ago, a 13 year old blackmailed me into friendship by holding my doughnut captive. We've been close ever since. But then, I noticed that I wanted to be more than just friends. I was in love with my best friend. Sadly, he didn't feel the same way. I thought my world was over. I was crushed. But to my utmost yet most delighted surprise, I just happened to fall into the arms of a certain bad-boy. Literally. He didn't just save me from what could've been a hell of a concussion that night. He saved my heart too. But hey, let's not get in over our heads now. It wasn't that easy. Not even close. After all, when two opposing worlds clash for the very first time, we cant just expect it to be all rainbows and sunshine. Now do we?

Being The Billionaire's Captive

One mansion on the coast. One man. One woman. And something she thought could have never been. And it all started with what some might say was an ill-fated kidnapping. Every villain has a story; and his? Well, it captured her heart.

Undercover Wolf

My name is Roxy Gilbert and I'm apart of The Silent Moon Pack. When I was two years old, we were attacked by a stronger and more powerful pack. They took our home, our people, our land and our dignity... And I'm getting it back. *** Roxy and her twin brother, Aiden, have been training their whole lives to go undercover as spies in the pack that overthrew them. Their aim is to figure out the pack's weak spots, get enough information as possible about them, and attack when they least expect it. What Roxy doesn't know is that her mate was the new Alpha of that very pack, which leaves her torn between betraying her pack or her mate. Who will she choose? Let the tests of trust, love and loyalty begin....

Goodbye Alpha, I'm No Longer Your Blood Bag

Zarelle Feymere-heiress to the most powerful werewolf dynasty in the world-made one mistake: she fell for an Alpha who saw her as nothing more than a rare blood bag. For three years, she endured the humiliation of a loveless mating, her veins tapped like a commodity to sustain the woman Calden Ashmoor truly loved, Thessaly. His fated mate, who rejected him to marry his brother. When a web of lies and betrayal is uncovered, Zarelle does the unthinkable: she walks away. Now, stripped of her disguise as a docile omega, the true daughter of the Missatian Pack returns to claim her birthright-and her revenge. Calden always thought he'd married a nobody. He never expected his discarded mate to come back as a queen.

My Husband's Brother Owns My Secret

My marriage to Joshua Caldwell was a prison sentence. I was a Hartman trophy, sold to the powerful family who had destroyed mine. Then I discovered he was cheating. His mistress was pregnant with the child he denied me, and he was stealing my secret song lyrics to build her career. When I confronted him, he called me a spineless liability and threatened to destroy what was left of my family. To make matters worse, a one-night stand with a stranger turned out to be with my husband's brother, Anthony Caldwell-the Don of the city. He knew all of Joshua's secrets and used them to trap me in a twisted game, seeing me as nothing more than an asset. They both thought I was a broken doll they could control. I wrote a song for his mistress, a beautiful execution with a single, impossible note I knew would destroy her voice. She sang it, and now her career is over. Now the Don has summoned me to Chicago, not knowing the woman he thinks is his asset is the one who just burned his brother's world to the ground.

I'm Divorcing with You, Mr Billionaire!

I received a pornographic video. "Do you like this?" The man speaking in the video is my husband, Mark, whom I haven't seen for several months. He is naked, his shirt and pants scattered on the ground, thrusting forcefully on a woman whose face I can't see, her plump and round breasts bouncing vigorously. I can clearly hear the slapping sounds in the video, mixed with lustful moans and grunts. "Yes, yes, fuck me hard, baby," the woman screams ecstatically in response. "You naughty girl!" Mark stands up and flips her over, slapping her buttocks as he speaks. "Stick your ass up!" The woman giggles, turns around, sways her buttocks, and kneels on the bed. I feel like someone has poured a bucket of ice water on my head. It's bad enough that my husband is having an affair, but what's worse is that the other woman is my own sister, Bella. ************************************************************************************************************************ "I want to get a divorce, Mark," I repeated myself in case he didn't hear me the first time-even though I knew he'd heard me clearly. He stared at me with a frown before answering coldly, "It's not up to you! I'm very busy, don't waste my time with such boring topics, or try to attract my attention!" The last thing I was going to do was argue or bicker with him. "I will have the lawyer send you the divorce agreement," was all I said, as calmly as I could muster. He didn't even say another word after that and just went through the door he'd been standing in front of, slamming it harshly behind him. My eyes lingered on the knob of the door a bit absentmindedly before I pulled the wedding ring off my finger and placed it on the table. I grabbed my suitcase, which I'd already had my things packed in and headed out of the house.

Marrying Her Was Easy, Losing Her Was Hell

"Stella once savored Marc's devotion, yet his covert cruelty cut deep. She torched their wedding portrait at his feet while he sent flirty messages to his mistress. With her chest tight and eyes blazing, Stella delivered a sharp slap. Then she deleted her identity, signed onto a classified research mission, vanished without a trace, and left him a hidden bombshell. On launch day she vanished; that same dawn Marc's empire crumbled. All he unearthed was her death certificate, and he shattered. When they met again, a gala spotlighted Stella beside a tycoon. Marc begged. With a smirk, she said, ""Out of your league, darling."

The Cold CEO's Unwanted Genius Wife

I stood in the darkest corner of the Pierre Hotel’s ballroom, my cheap polyester dress itching against my skin while my wristband buzzed with a DARPA Priority Red alert. In front of the city’s elite, my fiancé Bryce Calloway took the stage, not to toast our future, but to publicly end our engagement and announce he was with my sister, Chloe. The room turned on me instantly, a hundred pairs of eyes pinning me down with pity and disgust as they physically backed away like I was contagious. When I returned home, my mother shattered a crystal vase at my feet, screaming that I was a humiliation and a "dropout" who didn't deserve a cent of the family fortune. Chloe and Bryce mocked me, laughing when I told them I had a mission with the National Security Agency, convinced I was either a pathological liar or a low-level criminal. They watched in horror as a black, unmarked military helicopter descended on our backyard to extract me, yet they still chose to believe I was being arrested for drug trafficking. They saw a pathetic girl who couldn't even parallel park, never realizing I was Dr. Nova Vance, the lead physicist behind the world's first successful fusion reactor. To secure funding for my research and gain a "fortress" of a name, I signed a thirty-day marriage contract with the arrogant billionaire Roman Knight. He treats me like a fraud, convinced I’m a gold-digger who failed out of college, while I quietly run global energy simulations from his guest bedroom. He has no idea that the "loser" he’s forced to live with is the same anonymous grandmaster who has been ruthlessly crushing him in online strategy games for months. "The contract is active," I told him, looking past his expensive suit. "But don't expect me to be your maid."

Abandoned Ex-Wife: Now Untouchable

My five-year-old daughter was dying in the ICU, her heartbeat replaced by the continuous, electronic scream of a flatline. I gripped her cold hand, my throat sealed shut by a terror so absolute I couldn't even cry out. I dialed my husband Grayson's private number, the one reserved only for me and his assistants. He declined the call instantly. A second later, a text buzzed against my palm: "In a meeting. Do not disturb. Stop calling." Five miles away, Grayson was at a luxury gala, adjusting his silk tie and laughing with Belle Escobar. He told her I was just being "dramatic" and using our daughter's "fever" as an excuse to avoid the event. He had no idea Effie's heart had already stopped. When I finally reached our penthouse, soaked from the rain and carrying Effie's small socks in a plastic bag, Grayson didn't even look at me. He snapped at me for ruining the hardwood floors and asked if I'd left Effie with the nanny just to "feel sorry for myself." Three days later, while I buried our daughter in a small, lonely ceremony, Grayson was at the Hamptons. Belle posted a photo of him golfing with the caption: "A mental health day with the boys." He didn't even attend the funeral, but he returned home demanding I clear out Effie's room to make a study for Belle's son. The injustice burned through me until there was nothing left. I swallowed a handful of sleeping pills, desperate to join my daughter. But instead of the darkness, I woke up to blinding lights and the scent of Grayson's expensive cologne. I was standing in a ballroom, wearing a blue silk dress I had already burned. Above me, a banner read: "Happy 5th Birthday Kaiden & Effie." I was back, exactly one year before the tragedy. This time, I wasn't going to be the grieving wife. I was going to be their worst nightmare.