Charlotta Yvonna del Real is the queen of Altagracia. Anak ng may-ari ng malaking Azucarera, she has it all - friends, popularity, riches, boys. But well, maybe, not all. May madilim na lihim ang kanyang pamilya. Isang bagay na hindi inaasahan para sa kanila. The deal Real's were always the epitome of a perfect family, not until that night. Inukit sa puso niya ang galit at pagkamuhi para sa mga Castanier. She was sure that when the Lenadro Castanier is back, she would throw them out of Altagracia. Even if it was against her heart. This is the First book of Azucarera Series. The series consist of three books. The two other books are: Getting to You (Azucarera #2) Hold Me Close (Azucarera #3)

"What would you like me to play; The violin or your pussy?" • • • He lived on the street. They called him a tramp. He slept with trash and found his meals in the garbage. Nobody knew who he was. Melody knew the moment she met him, something about him was off. Something about him was missing. Impassive and unpredictable, he always lurked around, his hulking figure a wandering question mark on the streets of New York. But give him a violin and watch him play...

They never told you that the monster under your bed could have a set of beautiful forest green eyes and an angelic smile. -a story in which a girl is taken by a notorious gang member that lives beneath the world's feet. THIS IS A TRILOGY BOOK (1/3) *COMPLETED* HIGHEST RANKINGS #1 in harrystyles #1 in fanfiction #1 in one direction NOT ALLOWING TRANSLATIONS FOR THIS OR THE REST OF THE TRILOGY! MATURE READ! ALL RIGHTS RESERVED @happydays1d/// CONTAINS VULGAR LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE AND SEXUAL CONTENT. READ AT OWN RISK///

Some call me bad luck. Some call me unlucky. Some call me their worst nightmare. Most fear me. Most scream when they see me. And I smile. I smile because that's what I love the best. Their fear. I love it, when it goes through their eyes when I point the gun and shoot them dead. I love how pale they turn when they hear me chuckle. I just love the sound of their rapidly beating hearts against their chest. But when she comes along, that's where my true demon comes out. That's where I love it the most when I scare her and become her worst nightmare. I'll break her. I'll break that little fiery soul of hers. And I'll laugh when it's in my hands. *mature theme *cussing

"I want to defile you, destroy you, corrupt you in the most sinfully beautiful way. Break you until you're completely mine." "And then?" "Then I'll piece you back together, of course." He took another step in her direction, closing the distance between them. "Love can be holy." He said but the look in his eyes promised anything but. "It can be kind and gentle. It can be the flutter inside your chest when you feel someone touch you, the blush staining your cheeks when someone brushes his knuckles over them." To prove his point further, he took his knuckles and brushed them over her sharp jawline, all the way to her lightly dusted cheeks and sharp cheekbones. "However, love can also be vile. Dark and all-consuming. The kind of love that makes you want to fall to your knees and let it destroy you." He let his palm rest on her soft skin and felt the warmth she provided so carelessly travel to him. "That's all I can offer you." Nathaniel Russ is a man devoid of passion. Cold, stern, a tragedy with skin. A wreckage just seconds before the crash. A writer. He spends countless hours teaching philosophy at the local university, waiting for something to make the words crawl out of him with the same vigorous appetite they once did. And he finds it, at the most unexpected moment. Guinevere Westbrook is a woman haunted by the sins of her past. And she just happens to be the muse he had been waiting for, even though she refuses to accept it. So, he orchestrates a game meant for two. A game. That's all it was. Until it wasn't. Adult themes, proceed with caution. All images belong to their respective owners. Source: Pinterest.

*Book one in the Hell's Company series* Lucifer was the brightest angel in Heaven, But in service of God, he was condemned to darkness. After thousands of years, the darkness took root inside him. ~ Ammi is a flame no one can extinguish Forged from God's holy fire to combat his darkness. A gift made for Lucifer. ~ He clucked his tongue disparagingly, shaking his head, "Tell me your full name." I groaned, running a hand down my face. "Fine. But I'm not explaining it to you." His face told me that I would if he wanted me to, but I soldiered on. "My full first name is Amirykal. Happy?" I muttered. His reaction took me completely by surprise. He blinked slowly at first, processing, then his face split into a wide grin and he threw back his head and laughed uproariously. I was hit with a wave of arousal at the sound of it-it was rumbling and husky, heating me up at the core. "What's so funny?" I grumbled, sure he was laughing at my expense. He looked down, that gorgeous grin still on his chiseled face, showcasing his lovely white teeth. "Oh, Kitten. Your name, Amirykal, do you know its meaning?" He asked, his voice sensual and erotic as he spoke my name. "No-I was found with that name." I answered struggling to keep my voice even as he slowly approached, like a predator would his prey. "Well, Love, I'll tell you. Amirykal means 'gift', or, more exactly, 'a gift from God'." He purred as he got closer and closer, so there was barely a foot between us. "And why is that funny?" I had a very hard time focusing on the conversation at hand with him at this proximity, using that lovely tone. "Because, Amirykal, I am Lucifer. And God made you to be mine." *HIGHEST RANKS*: #1 in Paranormal #2 in Supernatural #7 in Werewolf* *Takes many liberties on Biblical stories and has graphic violence and adult content. Please do not read if such things offend you.*

{The Wattys Awards Shortlist} The Saint's Brotherhood motorcycle club was known all over town, they were ruthless. They were feared, they got their reputation from one member in particular, one member that was so unbelievably intriguing and mysterious, people made legends and stories about him. They didn't know his name, didn't know who he was, where he came from, and they didn't know what he looked like for he wore a mask. The man himself struck fear into everyone he meant, he was the club's personal Devil. But she was okay with him.

Silva wants what he shouldn't have and takes what he can't desire. He should've known. Irisa offsets the brittle balance of diabolical cruelty, but it's a forgivable transgression that he's willing to make an exception for. She's a simple girl with a special smile; something opposite of him as it burns into his skin with regret. Regret that he doesn't have her. He doesn't know if he wants to kiss the smile away or wrap his hand around her fragile neck until the light fades to black. He's a nightmare wrapped in visceral ink, a frighteningly obsessive man with missing morals. Silva would rip his heart out if she asks; he is selfishly generous to her whims. *** This contains sensitive material that will be triggering to some, reader discretion is advised. Mature contents. Copyright © 2020 by Celia Crown

[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]