Kate Iren Faksvåg Rånås

Liesl McGrath is an up-and-coming artist but for eight years she focuses on her husband as a devoted partner, adjusting her life and her career around him achieving his goal of becoming CEO by the age of thirty. Her life is perfect until her glass castle crashes down. Her husband admits to infidelity with none other than her own sister and there is a child coming. Liesl decides the best way to mend her shattered heart is by destroying the one thing he holds more important than anything else: his career. Isaias Machado is a billionaire first generation American he knows the value of hard work and doing what it takes to survive. His entire life has been geared to the moment he can take the McGrath company away from the corrupted men who once left his family homeless. When Liesl McGrath approaches the billionaire to bribe him with information set to ruin her ex-husband, Isaias Machado is chomping at the bit to take everything the McGrath’s prize including Liesl. A story of love, revenge and healing needs to start somewhere and Liesl’s pain is the catalyst to the wildest rollercoaster ride of her life. Let the bribery begin.

Braxton Merriweather always gets what he wants. Now, he wants her--Julia Thompson, the wife of one of his workers. From the moment he first laid eyes on her, he knew he had to possess her in every way. When Jeff Thompson takes him up on the bargain he proposes, Braxton is shocked. He's even more surprised when Mrs. Thompson agrees. But now that he's had a taste of her, he wants more. How can he possess a woman who's already married to someone else? Julia feels trapped by her marriage to her high school sweetheart. In the two years since they've been married, he's changed, and not for the better. When billionaire Braxton Merriweather shows interest in her, she's flattered. And intrigued. Is it possible that one of the richest men in the world could really want her? And if so... what does she do about her husband? One Weekend with the Billionaire is a s*xy story for mature readers.

CAUTION: This has MATURE CONTENT. Read only if comfortable with genres like this. 18+. Evan Hart's heart aches as he watches the man he secretly loves suffer from the disappearance of his fiancée who is also his older brother. It's even more painful because Evan knows the truth—His elder brother wasn't kidnapped; he ran off with someone else, abandoning everything. Unable to bear the sight of Nathan Collins, the man he loves, falling apart, Evan makes a desperate and unthinkable decision: to become a substitute for his brother. What starts as an attempt to be close to Nathan quickly spirals into a tangled web of passion, possessiveness, and deception.

When I was a child, my grandma used to tell me stories. At the time, I never gave them much thought. Thinking they were just that… stories. Growing up, I soon realized that they weren’t lofty fantasies and fairy tales but memories of her past, memories of our ancestors before our world turned to sh*t. You see, what comes from legend, no matter how exaggerated the story becomes, there is always a sliver of truth. You just need to weed out the fiction from fact. My grandmother used to tell me stories of the Chosen One—the one who would save us all. When I was younger, I used to believe that what she said was true. Eventually, someone would be born, just as the Oracle predicted—someone who could save our souls and bind us back to our magic. Once I grew up and saw the world unfolding around me, I no longer believed in salvation. The chosen one seemed to be more of a prayer than reality. Some dream we wanted desperately to come true. Something in which we needed to find hope when there wasn’t any left. When our ancestors turned their backs on us, how were we expected to believe in this so-called salvation? Especially when all we witnessed was death and carnage ever since the great war. Nothing except pain and poverty. I used to believe the stories and used to pray for the mysterious chosen one that would rid our world of its evil. Now, though, I see it for what it really is, just a dream of hope. Some out of reach fairy-tale. A story to create hope. Hope is dangerous; it makes you believe things will get better. I stopped hanging on to hope when I witnessed firsthand that it caused nothing but heartache.

"I'm an ordinary waiter, but I can see people's fate, including Shifters. Like all children, I was tested for magic when I was only a few days old. Since my specific bloodline is unknown and my magic is unidentifiable, I was marked with a delicate swirling pattern around my upper right arm. I do have magic, just as the tests showed, but it has never lined up with any known Magic species. I can't breathe fire like a dragon Shifter, or hex people who piss me off like Witches. I can't make potions like an Alchemist or seduce people like a Succubus. Now I don't mean to be unappreciative of the power I do have, it's interesting and all, but it just really doesn't pack much of a punch and most of the time it is just pretty much useless. My special magical skill is the ability to see threads of fate. Most of life is annoying enough for me, and what never occurred to me is that my mate is a rude, pompous nuisance. He's an Alpha and my friend's twin brother. --------------------------------------- “What are you doing? This is my home, you can't just let yourself in!” I try and keep my voice firm but when he turns and fixes me with his golden eyes I shrink back. The look he gives me is imperious and I automatically drop my eyes to the floor as is my habit. Then I force myself to look back up again. He doesn't notice me looking up because he's already looked away from me. He's being rude, I refuse to show that he's scaring me, even though he most definitely is. He glances around and after realising that the only place to sit is the little table with its two chairs he points to it. “Sit.” he orders. I glare at him. Who is he to order me around like this? How can someone this obnoxious possibly be my soul mate? Maybe I'm still asleep. I pinch my arm and my eyes water a little from the sting of pain."