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My husband is the love of my life-gorgeous, powerful, and full of secrets. We had one perfect year of marriage before everything fell apart. Now, he reeks of cheap perfume and beautiful lies. But giving up on us, after all we've been through, is unthinkable. So, when I hear about a mechanic who fixes broken relationships, I waste no time tracking him down. The only issue? Doc doesn't meet with wives. But I'm desperate, and I'm willing to break the rules. I need to convince him to make an exception, or I might lose my husband forever. Will Doc take me on before my husband destroys our marriage completely? And even if he does, will his methods work on a relationship this damaged? I still believe in love, even though it's torn me apart. My husband is the love of my life, but I'm not sure he'll ever change. Can Doc repair a marriage this broken?
I GRAB my husband's mistress by the hair. Feel my nails scrape against her lily-white scalp. Wrench her extensions the way I discard tufts of dandelions from my rose garden.
She shrieks like a banshee. Like some otherworldly monster, clawing out of the grave. Out of hell. A devil wrapped in my robe, sipping from my wine glass. In my freaking house.
I throw my weight and my words around. Cohesive sentences broken by expletives. Dark obscenities. Vicious threats.
The woman manages to slip out of my grasp like the worm that she is.
Big brown eyes blink in my direction, filled with shock and pain.
I give her a once-over. Make side-by-side comparisons in the space of three seconds.
Jerrison really lowered his standards with this one.
She's young. The kind of young that believes her opinions matter even though she lacks experience. The kind with shelves of participation trophies and awkward photos of herself in lingerie, celebrating the years before gravity sags everything and the sun carves lines into her face.
Blonde. From the bottle. Her roots are showing. Black. Darkness creeping on light.
Her body's lanky–if I'm being harsh. Willowy if I'm being kind. But her tits are like watermelons. She must have back problems. There's no way her scrawny frame was built to support that.
Fake hair. Fake eyes. Fake tits. Airhead Barbie. As plastic as the dolls I used to play with in childhood.
Jerrison lurches to his feet, his thick blonde eyebrows slashing over startling blue eyes. "Harriet? I thought you were going on a business trip?"
There's an edge to my smile. I feel the rage building and building, galvanized by his ridiculous question.
He wants to know why I'm here. Like this isn't my house.
Like my name's not on the mortgage.
Like he wasn't sipping wine beside another woman, giggling and cuddling her five seconds before I busted in.
I ball my fingers into fists. Fight the lump that forms in the back of my throat, a lump that always precedes my tears.
Beyond the anger, frustration and disappointment is a secret hope.
Please let this be a dream.
Nightmare. Reality.
I never thought it would come to this. That I would fake a business trip just so I could catch my husband in the act.
I wanted evidence. Proof beyond whispered phone calls in the night. Socked feet tiptoeing out when he thought I was asleep. Empty sides of the bed. Strange credit card purchases. Hotels. Lingerie. Flowers that never came to me.
My marriage fell on the rocks and capsized, but I stubbornly believed it hadn't come to this point. It took effort to ignore the signs when I was bombarded with fragments of the truth. Nudges from my intuition. Whispers from my co-workers, friends, and family-those who loved me enough, who were brave enough, to bring their concerns to me.
"I noticed your husband with someone last week..."
"I thought you should know..."
"Is Jerrison seeing someone...?"
I didn't want to believe it. Even if I knew I was no longer his priority, even if the nights he reached for me, slid inside me, moved over me had dried up to nothing. Even if we never said 'I love you' or went on dates or exchanged more than the necessary conversations about bills, politics, and schedules, I believed in our marriage vows. To love and to hold. To honor. To respect.
I was there when Jerrison made those promises in front of everyone. Love shining in his eyes. Chest puffing out in a double-breasted suit with a flower clipped to the lapel.
He held my hand. Squeezed my fingers. Repeated after the priest in a giant cathedral that echoed with prestige and old money. The kind of religion people fought wars over.
'I will always love you, Harriet'.
Except Jerrison didn't warn me that his love came with strings. With business suits carrying the subtle scent of perfume. With lipstick stains on wrinkled napkins. With callers that go silent and then hang up when I answer the phone instead of him.
Today, I summoned the courage to see for myself, but there was no preparation for this moment. No motive beyond an urgent desire to prove I wasn't crazy.
I wanted my husband to face me. To see me.
To watch me watching him.
And I wanted remorse. Knees hitting the hardwood floors. Tears gushing from his incredible blue eyes. Hands up, rasping together in pleas for understanding.
But my husband did not receive my script because he's not following the lines.
It's been five minutes since I burst into the house, caught him with Blondie and grabbed her hair.
Five minutes.
I have yet to receive an apology.
"J-Jerry!" Barbie whispers, reaching for Jerrison. Bracelets dance up scrawny arms, clanking loudly against her elbows.
My gaze drags back to her. The way my voice carries through the room sounds like a gun without its safety. "Touch him and die."
She snatches her hands back. Looks at me with fear and trembling. I am her end.
And she knows it.
Jerrison does too. He moves in front of her. "Did you lie to me about the business trip?" He has the audacity to look annoyed as he pieces everything together. "You set me up. There wasn't any emergency at HQ, was there?"
Something ugly knots inside my chest. A twisted, ravenous evil. The side that society beats out of us. That school and eight-hour jobs in hot cubicles told us was wrong.
Conform. Restrain. Hold it in.
Do not let them see you explode.
Jail time. Police escorts. Assault charges.
Choose peace over violence. Choose conversation over fists. My dad taught me that when he taught me how to box. 'You have power and now you have a responsibility to use that power wisely.'
Whoever made those arbitrary rules has never been cheated on. Never walked in on their husband with another woman. Never had to choke down the acidic bile that starts in the stomach and rises to the throat.
I feel like a soda bottle shaken to within an inch of its life. A volcano spitting ash, a precursor to the lava.
Our breaths hit the air and damages the silence. No one moves.
It's like we're stuck in time. Each of us a cast member in a ridiculous set piece, moved around by a Higher Being that we don't understand. That couldn't possibly be benevolent.
"Harriet..." Jerrison says my name like an adult would to a misbehaving child in the middle of aisle four. 'No, you can't have that cereal, baby. It's too expensive'.
"Shut up."
"You need to calm down."
"And you need to move." It's all I can say through clenched teeth. Every muscle in my body coils. Flames lick at my skin and neck. Sweat beads on my upper lip.
"No," Jerrison says. "Let's talk about this like rational adults."
The Blonde begins to smile. She's got painfully thin lips that threaten to disappear completely from her face. The kind of lips that will probably land her in a plastic surgeon's office, asking for fillers and holding up a picture of a woman who looks like me.
I hate her.
Every inch of her. I want her to die.
Jerrison's eyebrows jerk a little closer together. He takes a step toward me. Hands outstretched. Eyes narrowed. Animal control approaching a rabid raccoon. Here, kitty kitty.
I can't look at him. Can't breathe from the pain that snaps at me like a shark out for blood.
There's no remorse in my husband's face.
No shame.
He's still tense, still acting as if he's got the upper hand. As if I should be ashamed for interrupting him.
I get the sense that I'm messing up his day. That I'm moving away from his script. That I should fold myself into a little box while he plays with his tramp. Make way until he's finished. Because isn't that what a good wife does? Step aside while her husband screws his girlfriend?
Bastard.
The betrayal barrels into me. A boulder on my back. Shackles on my feet.
I refuse to cry. She's still here. The other woman. I'm going to burn that robe. With her still in it.
"Fine." I whirl around and stomp to the mud room. Grabbing the bat we store on our shelf of prized junk, I stalk back to the main hall.
Barbie shrieks when she sees the bat. "Jerrison, she's going to kill me!" My husband stares at me with wide eyes.
I swing the bat over my shoulder and give him a cold smirk. "Excuse me a minute."
"Harriet..."
I throw the front door open. Her cherry convertible is pretty. Svelte. Just like Barbie. Not a scratch on its red paint. She takes good care of this thing.
Good.
The first swing of my bat smashes against a rearview mirror. Glass shatters into a million pieces and feeds my rage. I bash the hood like a madwoman. Jump on the trunk and beat the roof. Gorilla stomps. Blown tail lights. Cracked windshield.
Jerrison yells at me. Barbie wails.
I don't stop and neither of them come close enough to grab me. Smart idiots. They know I'll exchange metal and glass for sinew and flesh.
When I'm done, my straight hair sticks to my cheek and my hands hurt from gripping the bat so tightly. Something sharp stings my hand. I think some glass shards might have sailed through the air and scratched me.
My boots thump the concrete driveway. The bat rolls from my fingers and clanks to the ground, sliding back and forth before coming to a stop at one of my rose bushes.
Barbie's crying and so am I. The tears leak out of my eyes without permission.
I face the other woman. "You have ten seconds to get the hell out of here. If you ever come back to this house again, I promise you I won't show the restraint that I have today."
Her heels clack on the ground as she limps off. I'm surprised when her car starts. I'm surprised when it speeds out of the gate, the muffler scraping pavement and the side mirrors swinging in the breeze.
My attentions shifts to the man standing in the doorway of our home. The love of my life.
The man I pledged my world to. My cheating husband.
Imogen is a lady on the brink. Due to her mother's therapeutic condition, she's been constrained to live out of her car, in her workplace's car carport, no less. She can scarcely make closes meet, and her as it were center is how to survive fair one more day. Tobias and Theo are her bosses, and it doesn't take them long to find her mystery, but unbeknownst to her, they have a mystery of their possess, one that may alter everything.She's their mate, and they'll do anything they have to in arrange to keep her for themselves, indeed if that implies breaking her to begin with. Imogen knows she will never be free of them, and being human against a Lycan and vampire, she might as well donate up; As it were presently, she was not as it were battling to elude her mates who captured her but battling for her humankind. Constrained into a world she never knew existed, one thing gets to be clear. No people permitted! Imogen before long finds the most secure put for her may really be with her mates, but at what taken a toll? Will Imogen truly fair let them take anything they need, or will she battle back?
I was never meant to be discovered. After my father's death, my mother severed ties with the Jacksonville Pack and retreated into the swamps to hide a secret-me. Raised in this dangerous, isolated wilderness filled with ogres, panthers, and bog hags, I've never had contact with anyone except my mother. That is, until the Alpha of the Jacksonville Pack shows up, claiming that we share the rare and fated bond of True Mates. Unfortunately, my awkwardness and lack of social experience make me an unsuitable match, and he quickly breaks our bond, sending me back to the swamps. Just when I've given up hope, a mysterious man rescues me and brings me to his home, where I meet his two rough, biker brothers. Cast out from the pack for defying its Alpha, these triplets are also lone wolves. Unlike others, they don't mock me for my lack of social skills-they take care of me, heal my wounds, and show me the world I've been kept from. But dark forces are closing in, and they're determined to claim my life just as they did my father's. Can these three protectors save me from the same fate? "True Mate Rejected " is the first book in a trilogy of steamy, near-future paranormal romances featuring an innocent, sheltered heroine and her multiple, tough, protective mates who share her love. There's no choosing between them. The book contains mature scenes for readers over 18, with mild kink and an age gap. All intimate moments are consensual.
My name is Scarlet Jones, and I'm a witch... sort of. At least, that's what I've come to believe. Growing up, everyone saw me as the spoiled brat nobody wanted around. Sure, I broke things on purpose, stole a few items, and maybe set half my school ablaze, but can you blame me? They were too hard on me! In a family of powerful Blood witches, my peculiar magic always felt out of place. I thought I was the only one like me-an undeniable freak of nature-and I relished the uniqueness. I lived independently, hunting mindless creatures that drained my magic whenever they got the chance. I even threw a party for them, hoping to teach them some manners. But my plans unraveled when four strangers crashed the party-people who were just like me. Suddenly, I didn't feel so special anymore. With four unconscious bodies at my feet and no clue about what had just happened, I figured things couldn't get worse. I was dead wrong. Now, my journey is just beginning, and it looks like it's going to be anything but smooth.
Linsey was stood up by her groom to run off with another woman. Furious, she grabbed a random stranger and declared, "Let's get married!" She had acted on impulse, realizing too late that her new husband was the notorious rascal, Collin. The public laughed at her, and even her runaway ex offered to reconcile. But Linsey scoffed at him. "My husband and I are very much in love!" Everyone thought she was delusional. Then Collin was revealed to be the richest man in the world. In front of everyone, he got down on one knee and held up a stunning diamond ring. "I look forward to our forever, honey."
After five years of marriage, my husband is always absent on my birthday. No gifts, no blessings. He said, "I've given you the money, buy whatever you want." But he started preparing for Fiona's birthday half a month in advance. He said, "She's different, she only has me." As the sole survivor of a unexpected fire, he has been heartbroken for over a decade. Watching Fiona in Moments holding a cake and kissing his face. I slowly commented. 【Just this useless person, I'm giving him to you.】
"There will be no falling in love, we will only act as a loving couple when we are in public, we will share a room to make it believable, but no intimacy, touching is off-limits. We'll only have sex once a month, and that's solely to produce an heir. You won't interfere in my business, and I won't interfere in yours. You will be my wife in every sense and you will not be involved with any other man," he said, arrogance seeping from every word. I watch his mouth move, I'm not ready to fall in love with any man, especially not one as arrogant and egoistic as him. I can handle acting as a loving couple, and as for intimacy once a month. I can agree to that just to satisfy my sexual cravings with no strings attached. "Where can I sign?" I asked since I had nothing to lose. *** Nadine's wedding dreams turned to nightmares when she caught her sister and fiancé cheating! With a secret recording, she's ready for revenge. But then mysterious billionaire Logan West offers a deal: A Contract Marriage to take down her ex's empire. But what Nadine doesn't know is her life is getting complicated as she takes her chance to get revenge or risks everything for a chance at love?"
We've been married for three years, but I've never truly had his love. When his childhood sweetheart returned, just as promised, all I was met with were the cold, glaring divorce papers. "If I were carrying our child, would you still choose to divorce?" I asked, holding onto the faintest glimmer of hope, making one last desperate plea. His response, as expected, was just as cold as ever. "Yes." I closed my eyes, choking back tears, and finally chose to let go-to honor his decision. Years later, my heart had turned to ash. Lying in a hospital bed, I trembled as I signed the divorce papers. "Alexander, from this moment on, we owe each other nothing..." What I never saw coming was the ruthless, decisive CEO kneeling at my bedside, his voice hoarse, almost broken, as he pleaded, "Vivienne, don't divorce me... please."
They don't know I'm a girl. They all look at me and see a boy. A prince. Their kind purchase humans like me for their lustful desires. And, when they stormed into our kingdom to buy my sister, I intervened to protect her. I made them take me too. The plan was to escape with my sister whenever we found a chance. How was I to know our prison would be the most fortified place in their kingdom? I was supposed to be on the sidelines. The one they had no real use for. The one they never meant to buy. But then, the most important person in their savage land-their ruthless beast king-took an interest in the "pretty little prince." How do we survive in this brutal kingdom, where everyone hates our kind and shows us no mercy? And how does someone, with a secret like mine, become a lust slave? . AUTHOR'S NOTE. This is a dark romance-dark, mature content. Highly rated 18+ Expect triggers, expect hardcore. If you're a seasoned reader of this genre, looking for something different, prepared to go in blindly not knowing what to expect at every turn, but eager to know more anyway, then dive in! . From the author of the international bestselling book: "The Alpha King's Hated Slave."
Rejected by her mate, who had been her long-time crush, Jasmine felt utterly humiliated. Seeking solace, she headed to a party to drown her sorrows. But things took a turn for the worse when her friends issued a cruel dare: kiss a stranger or beg her mate for forgiveness. With no other choice, Jasmine approached a stranger and kissed him, thinking that would be the end of it. However, the stranger unexpectedly wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered in her ear, "You're mine!" He growled, his words sending shivers down her spine. And then, he offered her a solution that would change everything...