❀ FEATURED ON WATTPAD'S EDITORS' PICKS LIST ❀ [The Closer is intended for readers with an appetite for the dark and sexy. Read at your own discretion.] "What about that no fucking colleagues policy, huh? The one you so haughtily rubbed in my face?" The way to wound my heart is through my pride. The bastard knew that. But the look in Hans' eyes told me this wasn't a game to get me all riled up. "If your office ethics involve you getting into Tim's pants, then why don't I get to play too?" His hands flew down to my legs, tickling the bare skin on my legs and shocking me into stillness when I felt him pull up the corners of my dress till they were bunched up at my waist. "You can't," I breathlessly whispered as he forced my legs apart. One hand sauntered up to my neck, resting at my collarbone while the other snaked between my legs, parting my thighs until he had all of me resting at the tip of his fingers. "Is this cause of him," he growled, his finger dipping into my heat just slightly, circling the entrance, "or me?" He sounded so needing, so deprived. It turned me on knowing that I was the one making him feel this way, that despite being the one thrown up against a wall, I had the ultimate power over this man. "It's...It's you." I gulped and met his eyes. "It's all you." ● What happens when an unstoppable, hard-hitting business woman meets an unmovable, chauvinist, and utterly exhausting heir to a multi-million empire? Disaster, of course. For Tris, Hans Castellan proves to be more than a challenge of the heart and of the body. For Hans, Tris Henderson turns out to be a woman worth fighting for, despite a rocky start and more than a few broken hearts. Then again, no one said closing this deal would be easy. ● © Beatrice Manuel, All Rights Reserved

After a barren mating that had lasted just shy of two years, Avery is hell bond on living a life away from power hungry bastards. And if she can help someone along the way, she would gladly make that extra effort. Finally managing to be in charge of her own life, she reaches out helping others overcome the difficulties of losing a mate, no matter the consequences. It doesn't come as a surprise, when she finds herself running a shelter for recently widowed or battered she-wolves. Only one thing remains a hardship: raising so many pups without the strong, tough, manly supervision. The small group of she-wolves and pups increases in numbers and becomes a movement that no longer can be underestimated or constricted in the limits of her childhood home. In times of uncertainty and opposition, with Alphas threatening to overrun their little establishment, Avery has no choice but to venture out of her comfort zone in the search of the combat instructor who could teach basic survival skills to the cubs. If what she fears ever becomes a reality, she would be glad that they would stand a chance in the power-struggle, where Enforces are nothing but a brute force to achieve the goals of power-hungry Alphas. Naively planning to secure the perfect combat instructor, Avery does not leave a room to account for nature that comes at her with a full swing. Winter storm and dreaded coldness that soaks the life out of her make her prioritize the help for a rabid-looking stray. After dealing with his biological father Pablo Alvarez, Jonathan Graves finally freefalls into the rage and darkness. They call it being berserk. For Jon - it is a nightmare. When he finally wakes up from it, he is taken in by opinionated, frustrating she-wolf, who nurtures him back to life, only to give him the boot. Or so she thinks, as Jon is dead set on picking his own time to depart! When Jon meets Avery, the heavens roar as the Monarch and the Rogue discover more than they had initially bargained for.

//Please note this story is under heavy construction! Read at your own risk.// If you look for perfection, you'll never be content. ~Leo Tolstoy . . . . . . . A flower is to be always beautiful lest it is cast away. A flower is to be innocent and pure. Delicate in nature, ever to bring squinting smiles to those around. A flower is perfect. Always perfect. She was the perfect embodiment of a flower. Her name, Iris. A thorn is sharp like a knight's blade. It inflicts pain and draws blood if one dares to get close. A thorn protects a flower from the wickedness of the world. A thorn is attached to the king, ever guarding. He was the perfect embodiment of a thorn. His name, Luca. She was an iris in no need of a thorn and he was a thorn in no need of a delicate iris. Thrust together by an arranged marriage, the unlikely pair, the thorn, and the flower must now find a way to co-inhabit in the same garden. Bracing the strength of the winter, will their love and companionship last for the spring season or will the cold betrayal of a parasitic orchid, the overflowing herbicide of lies and the perfect perfection of the Iris trample the delicate budding bloom of their affairs of the heart?