Yesterday, my name was Elizabeth Summers. I was 43 years old with a good job that I didn't like much, but it paid the bills. When I woke up today, I was told my name is Kimberly Sparks. My birth certificate says I'm 24 years old. I don't have a job or a place to live. But there's a seriously hot guy taking me home with him. Elizabeth Summers died yesterday in a terrible fire and Kimberly Sparks was born. But I'm not a phoenix; I'm a werewolf. Who knew?
I looked around at the mound of documents and hoped (for the dozenth time today) that I could flee to the Bahamas. I grinned as I recalled my lunchtime phone talk with my closest buddy earlier in the day. I'd tell him if I went missing that afternoon to start searching on the white sand beaches of Nassau since I was sick to death of the audit at work and anxious about the full day of meetings I had booked for tomorrow. He'd laughed and reminded me that I had a week of vacation coming up as soon as the auditors left.
I would have told him I loved him if I had known that was the final time I would ever see him. Oh, not anymore, not for a long time. But Samuel Nash was the most influential person in my life. He'd been my boyfriend for several years. When that didn't work, what bothered us the most was the prospect of losing our close relationship. Samuel and I made a pact that no matter how tough or distressing the issue was, we would work through it together. He'd been my best buddy since then.
I began rummaging through the heaps of material on my coffee table, wishing I could just walk away from it all. I worked at a cement firm as an accountant and financial analyst. I'd been there for approximately six years, and it felt like the longer I stayed, the more bullshit I had to deal with. I'd been assigned to deal with a bunch of sales tax auditors who were making my life a living hell.
Sales tax auditors only came out once every three years, rather than once a year. I'd heard that some businesses never had to deal with them at all. That, I attribute to heresy and wild conjecture. I'd been handed a list of invoices that the auditors required copies of, and most of them were nearly three years old. All except two had been located. I collapsed on the couch and debated with myself after concluding that the missing bills were not lying in the stack I'd previously sorted twice.
I had a solid notion of where those bills may be kept, but it entailed returning to the office. I was largely prepared for tomorrow's meeting with the executives to finalize the budget specifics. Perhaps I could look for the bills in the morning?
No.
If I was correct, those bills were buried in the basement file room, and there was no way I was going to dig through that muck without looking like something the Swamp Thing vomited up on New Year's Eve. I groaned and dragged myself off the couch. I needed to change my clothing before poking about in the basement at work, which I dubbed the Basement of Horror. I returned to my room and changed into an old, tattered pair of pants that had seen better days. The t-shirt I was wearing had a stain on my left breast from spilling red sangria a few months before, so it'd suffice. I stuffed my feet into my old shoes, grabbed my keys, and walked out to my vehicle.
The apartment building was peaceful. It was a little community with largely senior residents, including me. I'm not that ancient, but I turned forty-three earlier this year, so I fit right in around here. On the top level of my three-story building, I had a spacious two-bedroom flat. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but it was constructed in the 1970s and the apartments were almost soundproof. My neighbors were kind enough, but we largely avoided each other.
My workplace was just a short distance away. I'd always thought it was strange to see a two-story office building amid a field. There were a few homes here and there, but it was mostly agricultural and desolate. The firm had elected to establish the headquarters out here rather than in town to be near the stone quarry and mixing plant that functioned as our operational hub. I didn't mind the surroundings during the day, but when the sun set, the empty environment increased the spook factor.
I parked adjacent to the administration building and carefully secured my vehicle before entering. My parents had taught me that it was better to be cautious than sorry, even if I came from a tiny town. It was strange how missing them would occasionally come as a surprise to me. My father died while I was in my early twenties, but my mother had only been gone a few months.
A new wave of anguish washed over me as I remembered her. I wished I'd picked up my baseball bat and taken it with me out here in the middle of nowhere, with the moon just starting to rise. It was a Christmas present from my mother a few years ago. When I first moved into my apartment, she was concerned that someone would break in and "do awful things" to me.
We'd all laughed as I opened it, but my mother had looked me in the eyes and said solemnly, "Elizabeth Anne Summers, I'd want you to swear to keep the bat next to your bed. I don't want some sheriff appearing on my doorway telling me you're gone because you couldn't defend yourself."
"Yes, Momma, I promise." Since then, I've kept the bat next to my bed.
The agony of loss faded as I opened the front door and entered the building. It seemed strangely silent when no one was present. As I walked up to my office on the second level, I flicked on every light switch I passed. I might have had the bills in my file cabinet. It was worth a look if I could avoid going to the Basement of Horror.
I realized my final hope of success was below in the subterranean file room after twenty minutes of futile searching. I took the key from the wall-mounted storage cabinet and went down to the first level. The basement door was left open, which was not uncommon. It was never shut down. The rear door of the office was slightly ajar, which was unusual. I grimaced as I examined it. When the cleaning woman departed, she must not have locked it. The locks were a pain in the arse, and I had frequent issues with them. Before heading down the basement steps, I tightened the door and double-checked the latch.
Jack's redemption is a paranormal romance thriller, centered around the machinations of vampires. Drama, seduction, love, and every sin found in the dark corners of a major city. It’s a brutal world, filled with deadly politics, deadlier creatures, ancient conspiracies, and Gothic obsessions.
Richard, a talented young pianist, sets off for the Wexford Conservatory of Music. Between lessons with his exacting teacher and fun times with two fellow musicians named Emily and Sandra, he discovers that music, friendship and love can lead to passions never imagined. Supported by a cast of characters pulled straight out of the music world, these three aspiring performers find that the life of a musician is that of extremes: formidably challenging, and exceptionally rewarding.
Madisyn was stunned to discover that she was not her parents' biological child. Due to the real daughter's scheming, she was kicked out and became a laughingstock. Thought to be born to peasants, Madisyn was shocked to find that her real father was the richest man in the city, and her brothers were renowned figures in their respective fields. They showered her with love, only to learn that Madisyn had a thriving business of her own. "Stop pestering me!" said her ex-boyfriend. "My heart only belongs to Jenna." "How dare you think that my woman has feelings for you?" claimed a mysterious bigwig.
After three secretive years of marriage, Eliana never met her enigmatic husband until she was served with divorce papers and learned of his extravagant pursuit of another. She snapped back to reality and secured a divorce. Thereafter, Eliana unveiled her various personas: an esteemed doctor, legendary secret agent, master hacker, celebrated designer, adept race car driver, and distinguished scientist. As her diverse talents became known, her ex-husband was consumed by remorse. Desperately, he pleaded, "Eliana, give me another chance! All my properties, even my life, are yours."
"I'm going to tell you what I have in mind," he murmured. "First you're going to strip down until you're completely naked," he whispered against her ear. "Then I'm going to tie you up so you're completely powerless and subject to my every whim." "Mmm, sounds good so far," she murmured. "Then I'm going to insert a plug to prepare you for me. After that I'm going to spank that sweet ass of yours until it's rosy with my marks." She shivered uncontrollably, her mind exploding with the images he evoked. She let out a small whimper as he sucked the lobe of her ear into his mouth. God, she could cum with just his words. She was already aching with need. Her nipples tingled and hardened to painful points. Her clit pulsed and twitched between her legs until she clamped her thighs together to alleviate the burn. "And then I'm going to f**k your mouth. But I won't cum. Not yet. When I'm close, I'll flog you again until your ass is burning and you're on fire with the need for relief. And then I'm going to f**k that ass. I'm going to take you hard and rough, to the very limits of what you can withstand. I won't be gentle. Not tonight. I'm going to take you as roughly as you can stand. And then I'm going to cum all over your ass. Are you ready to be completely and utterly dominated?"
After three loveless years, Neil's betrayal deeply wounded Katelyn. She wasted no time in getting rid of that scoundrel! After the divorce, she devoted herself to career pursuits. Rising to prominence as a top designer, skilled doctor, and brilliant hacker, she became a revered icon. Neil, realizing his grave mistake, tried in vain to win her back, only to witness her magnificent wedding to another. As their vows were broadcast on the world's largest billboard, Vincent slid a ring onto Katelyn's finger and declared, "Katelyn is now my wife, a priceless treasure. Let all who covet her beware!"
22-year-old Evelyn Carter is attempting to start over in California while avoiding her past. She will be embarking on a new career path as a private school teacher. She is smart, attractive, and doesn't put up with nonsense. Who wouldn't notice her? However, what happens when she attracts the attention of someone unwilling to let her go? Who wants her and nothing else after falling in love at first sight? A 25-year-old billionaire CEO and single father, Lucian Carrington. He takes what he wants and he is also a very dangerous man. All it needed was one look at a stunning woman to realize she was HIS, even though he doesn't believe in relationships because they always end. Preview: Miss Carter, you will be mine. I say firmly. "Release my arm, Mr. Carrington, before I force you to." She says, seeming to smile at me. I give her a sly smile. Squeezing my wrist with her other hand, she twists it uncomfortably. I gave a painful hiss. "Don't underestimate me, Mr. Carrington." "This is the only time I will allow you to walk away from me, Miss Carter." She glared at me as she turned. "Mr. Carrington, I am no possession of yours." I was left standing there when she opened the classroom door and left.
Katie was forced to marry Dillan, a notorious ruffian. Her younger sister mocked her, "You're just an adopted daughter. Count your blessings for marrying him!" The world anticipated Katie's tribulations, but her married life unfurled with unexpected serenity. She even snagged a lavish mansion in a raffle! Katie jumped into Dillan's arms, credited him as her lucky charm. "No, Katie, it's you who brings me all this luck," Dillan replied. Then, one fateful day, Dillan's childhood friend came to her. "You're not worthy of him. Take this 50 million and leave him!" Katie finally grasped Dillan's true stature—the wealthiest man on the planet. That night, trembling with trepidation, she broached the subject of divorce with Dillan. However, with a domineering embrace, he told her, "I'd give you everything I have. Divorce is off the table!"