[You can now purchase 100 Voicemails' paperback on Amazon!] After a car accident, seventeen year old Steve Carlton, goes into a coma. When he does wake up after a few months, he suffers from temporary memory loss. During this time, he starts to go through his messages and voicemails on his cellphone, trying to get a clue of who he used to be. Voicemails sent to him from a girl called Ari might have the answers to his questions. A story told through voicemails.

[This is a spin-off of The DILF but can be read as a stand-alone] [The story you are about to read is intended for readers age 18+ due to its sexual content and language. It may not be appropriate for all audiences. Please read at your own discretion.] There was nothing Ophelia wanted better than to gouge Nikolai's long-lashed, consuming blue eyes out with a butter knife and mail them to the rest of the Alvonich family. Too bad they were in a very public, very esteemed place - Mikhail's wedding. "You don't think I'll press the button?" Nikolai's breath was warm and teasing in her ear. Ophelia had no idea what possessed her to take up his challenge of a vibrating thong, except that it was too late to back out now. She turned to glance at the infuriating man beside her. "Honestly, I don't care. It won't affect me." "Sweet Ophelia," he whispered, surprising her by flicking his tongue into her ear. Jumping, she glared at him, ignoring the important guests at her table, her father included. Before she could curse at Nikolai, he pressed the button, the swearwords turning to soft moans under her breath. Gripping the edge of the table, Ophelia felt the attack on her cl!t like a burn to her skin. Her father shot her a concerned look from across the table and Nikolai's voice was again in her ear. "Before the end of the night, Ophelia, we will f**k," he promised, releasing his finger from the remote control. "Only this time, it will be my name you scream."

*This is a FREE book with PAID exclusive chapters* [The Dad I'd Like to F*ck] "You should be careful," Devin said calmly, bending over to scoop Rory into his arms. "This bathtub can get incredibly slippery." "So I noticed," she said dryly. Mortified, she noticed how erect her nipples were. They stabbed the air like tiny knives of arousal and she was positive that Devin had noticed. "I think I can walk now," she said quickly. To her relief, he set her on the ground and reached for her towel. "This is the second time I'm rescuing you," he said, in that quiet way Rory was beginning to recognise as his annoyed tone. "Let's not make it a habit." Rory tightened the towel around herself, wincing from the motion. "I slipped in the tub. Hardly a rescue." A dirty look crossed his face. "I haven't had sex in two years, Rory. Consider yourself rescued..." He turned to leave "...from me." She was speechless. For starters, this had been the longest conversation she'd ever had with Devin Shaw and, secondly, she was positive that he wasn't as crazy as he let everyone believe he was...

In a world of monsters and gods, the Lupus Deus is the one being no one wants among them, especially not the gods that wronged him. Vivian Grey is as average as any werewolf comes, or at least that's what she believes growing up until she is confronted with the fact that her mate is the monster she heard stories about growing up. It doesn't take her long to realize that he is as cruel as whispered, as unfeeling as he is complex, and far more monstrous than believed. When push comes to shove she'll have to learn to navigate her own strength or risk being drowned in his. As a war between her mate and the gods that made him take place, love, might just easily become a double-edged sword. PUBLISHED ON AMAZON Link: https://www.amazon.com/Lupus-Deus-Werewolf-Sophia-Moore/dp/1644341271/ref=nodl_

5 Chapters || Completed Based on Storm & Silence by Robert Thier. A/N: Forgive me if you feel like I haven't shown enough justice to Sir Rob's amazing characters.

[Edited Version] “You ever think about letting your hair loose?” Ashton asked, his breath kissing Amor’s neck as they waltzed. “My hair’s fine,” Amor snapped in annoyance. Ashton chuckled. “That’s not what I meant.” His hands slowly hiked up the hem of her dress and her breath caught. “What are you doing?” She uneasily glanced around at the dancing couples. “Giving a new meaning to dirty dancing,” he replied quietly. And he entered her. [Cover by @zarawhite]

AZRIEL X OC. ACOTAR. Evangeline Longclaw. Intelligent. Beautiful. Deadly. All her life Evangeline has fought against the Illyrian norms to become the first female member of the Illyrian army. Her determination knows no limits and she will do anything to achieve her dream. But when her path crosses with the mysterious and handsome spymaster Azriel, her traumatic past threatens to collide devastatingly with her future.

Aftertaste, noun Af·ter·taste : persistence of a sensation (as of flavor or an emotion) after the stimulating agent or experience has gone There was once a time she was running away from her life, from people, from everything and everyone; running as far as she could. Now, she's running towards it. She's running towards happiness. Towards love. Towards him. She got to experience a different life. With him. She got the taste of being with him. Now this is the aftertaste; the taste that lingers afterwards. This is what it's like to be loved by Sin.

To the world he was a beast but for her he would do anything. He could have the world but all he wanted was her. They say the things we want most are the things we can't have. For she was so afraid of him that even the thought of him could have her running for the hills. Little did she know that she was the only one who didn't have to be afraid of him. Credits for the cover go to @Chatachino for the amazing cover.