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His Perfect Wife Novel

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Practice Kissing with the Bad Boy
By: aflyingwhaleUrban Romance"Blondie..." Judah trailed as if he was thinking real hard about something. "I'm giving you an out," he said finally."A what?""You don't need to do this with me. This whole... practice kissing thing, too. I think we’ve done enough. This game is getting too out of hand. You should just back out now, while you can. Because this isn't gonna end well for you,""Whoa, whoa, whoa, what the hell are you talking about?" I scoffed and my voice was seriously high-pitched."I told you, you girls always have to attach emotions to everything. I can already feel it coming. So I'm telling you, you better run now or you're gonna end up falling for me, fast and hard," he said.I snorted a real loud laugh instantly. It was a reflex of some sort."Judah, are you high or something?” I paused to gauge his reaction, but he remained serious. “Look, I can assure you, you don't have to worry about that. I'm not even attracted to you in the slightest," my laughter was maniacal and somewhat insulting.“Oh really?” he asked.“Yes, really,” I said reassuringly. “I have my feelings in check. So if there’s anyone that’s going to fall, that person won’t be me,”Judah crossed his arms and let out an irritated laugh. Clearly, he took my words as a challenge as he raised an eyebrow and his lips twitched into a smirk. He stepped off his bike and moved closer to me. I stepped back in response, hitting the red brick wall behind me. My laughter died down instantly as he put both arms next to my face so that I was completely trapped between him and the wall."Alright Blondie, if that's how you wanna play it," he said lowly. "Game on,"I looked up to see his dark amber eyes boring into mine, a predatory glint in his eyes. I suddenly felt weak and helpless, as if I was a little rabbit about to be swallowed whole by a lion. I gulped instinctively as he leaned closer to me."Tell your heart I'm gonna steal it," he murmured to my ears.
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HOT COFFEE (Completed)
Emma Cole, a nerd in high school and untouched all throughout her life at a community college, was abandoned by her birth parents and grew up in foster care homes all around New York. Whenever her name was mentioned, the people who knew her laughed and called her foul names, since she looked like the female version of Steve Urkel and was easy to pick on and belittle. She had no sense of style. All she wore were big dresses that hid her tiny figure underneath and glasses which didn"t do her eyes any justice. She owned one bag-- a beat-up leather she received as a gift from a spelling bee contest her freshman year in high school.Though she went to school, she had no friends, no family, and no one to teach her about becoming a lady. Emma had done everything by herself since she was one year old-- the age she was dumped by her parents into the foster system.At age twenty three, she lived in a very small apartment by herself. She wasn"t able to land a high-paying job to afford a good house, as of yet. Every time she applied to a vacant position she may have seen in a newspaper in the cafe, they would turn her down when she went to the interviews and the interviewers took one look at her. Appearance was more than her qualifications if she wanted to land a job as a receptionist or personal assistant at one of the big firms in New York City.Emma decided to stop hoping for a better job and stuck with being a waitress at Carl"s Cafe.Her hell on earth.Carl was the manager and owner of the cafe. A grown man, forty-five years old, who had experienced all the things he had chosen to chase in his pathetic life. He was a terrible boss and treated his employees as his personal slaves with low wages. One of his nasty habits was hitting on his female employees while on the job, but he never hit on Emma. Although she was a female, she just wasn"t his type and was too unattractive to even be bothered with.
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Mafia Obsession
By: Laila AliRomanceDARK ROMANCE "Sir, I am in a dire need of loan. Its very important, my friends life is at stake. I assure you I'll try my best to return the loan asap." She breathlessly said it all. Her eyes were filled with hope and expectations. He was her last hope. "Miss Sheharzaad," Shehryaar said, while standing up from his chair causing her to instantly stand up. "Yes sir" she replied, her voice troublesome yet confident. He walked towards the other side of the table and sat on the chair parallel to her. "Keep sitting, please." He said, like a gentleman and she sat down. She tightly held her hands together. A life could be saved by his single yes. "Sir please," she pleaded. "I agree. You can have the loan, but I have a condition." "I agree to your every condition sir" she replied with a little smile of victory on her face. "Think before you speak, Miss Sheharzaad." "I trust you." "I want a one night stand with you." He dropped the bomb. ............ "Every women is nothing but a , a and you're also one of them." He said making her wriggling double against the ropes, which tied her. "You're wrong." She replied with a sheer determination in her eyes. He harshly gripped held her chin and bobbed her head up towards him. "Oh, I'll prove it to you then." He spoke with an immense intensity and a promise in his eyes. "You'll now serve me as my personal escort, Sheharzaad." He declared and threaded his fingers into her silky locks, pasting his lips on hers, her brutally. He didn't trust womankind and she was a strong woman. He wanted shatter and break her into pieces so he could satisfy himself.
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Billionaire's Regret, Too Late!
By: Ela OsaretinUrban Romance"Lucien, let's get a divorce," I said in a peremptory tone that was long overdue, the most decisive farewell to this absurd marriage.We had been married for exactly three years—three years that, for me, were filled with nothing but endless loneliness and torment.For three years, the husband who should have stood by my side through every storm, Lucien Sullivan, had completely disappeared from my life as if he had never existed. He vanished without a trace, leaving me alone to endure this empty, desolate marriage.Today, I finally received his message:"I'm back. Come pick me up at the airport."When I read his words, my heart leapt with joy, and I raced to the airport, thinking that he finally understood my love and was coming back to me. But his cruelty was far worse than I could have ever imagined—he was accompanied by a pregnant woman, and that woman was Carla, my closest and most trusted friend.In that moment, all of my previous excitement, all my hope, and all of our shared laughter and tears turned into the sharpest of daggers, stabbing into my heart and leaving me gasping for air.Now, all I want is to escape from this place that has left me so broken—to lick my wounds in solitude. Even if these wounds will remain with me for the rest of my life, I refuse to have anything to do with him ever again.He should know that it was his own hand that trampled our love underfoot, that his coldness and betrayal created this irreparable situation. But when he heard those words, he desperately clung to this broken, crumbling marriage, unwilling to let it end—almost as though doing so could rewind time and return everything to how it used to be."Aurora, come back. I regret everything!"Regret? Those simple words stirred no emotion in me—only endless sadness and fury. My heart let out a frantic, desperate scream: It's too late for any of this!
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