2nd Hand Lyrics

EXCERPT: John freed himself from the security lashes in order to gain more access to Tom. He gripped his friend's waist, squeezing to emphasize how much he was willing to give up for this man. "I can touch you. We can touch. Touch me." Tom searched John's face with his eyes, the flush on his cheeks darkening and capturing John's attention once more. He could feel Tom's uncertainty as if it were a weighted net falling over them both to pin them in place. Summoning his courage, he stripped his tunic from his upper body and seized Tom's hand in his own. "Touch me. Please." John thought Tom was going to refuse until he used his free hand to reach out. SYNOPSIS: Refugees of a dead planet, the Zen are grateful the people of Earth are willing to offer them a new home. Executive Orders from the White House declare America a safe-haven for any of the shapeshifting aliens as long as they follow three basic rules: 1. Zen must take a human appearance. 2. Zen must register with human names at Social Services. 3. Zen must find paid work or volunteer to help their country. Two friends declare themselves "married" during their registration without realizing they are now legally bound to one another as a couple. Will New Americans John and Tom see their friendship turn into a romance or will they reject being accidentally married aliens?

"You want to know why all this is happening so Let me tell you but remember that I don't like any kind of rudeness and disrespect. You're here because I want something from you that you'll give me." Hearing his puzzled words, she looked at him and she asked him desperately wiping her tears "What???" "My baby that you will carry for me" "Are you mad??? What the hell are you saying ??" she scoffed at him harshly and turned around to leave this place. He fisted her hairs in his grip from behind and pulled her painfully towards him making her scream in pain. she placed her hand to remove his hand from her hair but he didn't lose his grip. "Leave me you monster. You are disgusting." She shouted on him. "don't you dare to use this tone with me. I don't like people when they disrespect me. This is my first and last warning to you that don't do this again or else you can't even imagine what I will do to you and now listen to me carefully that you will give me my child. I am not asking you but I am telling you that it would be better for you to do what you are here for." He hissed at her dangerously while fisting her hair more painfully making her hiss in pain.

I set fire to my painting in front of the entire academy. Thunderous applause erupts from the crowd as everyone thinks it's some kind of performance art. Unlike them, Willow Laurent is distraught. She rushes up and grabs my hand, questioning in a shrill voice, "Cassidy Seymour, have you gone mad? This is your only chance to prove yourself!" I shake her hand off me coldly. My only chance? No… What she means is that it's her chance. In my past life, I created this masterpiece with all my heart and soul. But she stole it from me and submitted it as her entry first. Whether it was the composition, the colors, or even my original dot-stippling technique… She replicated every detail flawlessly. Then, she won the National Young Artists Gold Award, signed with a top gallery, and became a rising star. And what about me? I was condemned as a shameless plagiarist. Insults and curses gradually drowned me. "You shouldn't be an artist!" "Plagiarists are scum! They should just die!" Her fans stormed into my studio, smashed my art supplies, and broke my right hand. As I saw no end to the hell that I was living in, I jumped down from the top floor of my studio. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the very day she first accuses me of plagiarism.

Three years after our breakup, I ran into my ex-girlfriend, and she had her new boyfriend by her side. "Hey, isn't that Henry the expert?" Diego Stanley taunted with a smirk. "Three years post-breakup, and you're slumming it here playing with clay?" I furrowed my brow, ignored them, and carefully moved the Victorian-era porcelain musician figurine onto its preset base in the display case. When I wasn't biting, he reached out to grab the figurine from my arms. "What's this junk you're treating like gold? Let me take a look." Cynthia Wyatt frowned, her voice laced with that familiar arrogance. "Henry, I've given you three years to shape up, and you're still the same loser? Come on, hand over that clay doll to Diego. Don't kill the vibe. If you play nice, I might even reconsider our old engagement." As Diego's hand neared the figurine, I dodged quickly and barked, "Hands off! It's a historical artifact!" Diego got pissed off and shoved me hard. "Some flea market find, and you're acting all high and mighty?" In the ensuing scuffle, I lost my balance, and the figurine slipped from my grasp, crashing to the floor. That sealed their fate. This entitled pair was about to go bankrupt trying to fix it.

Waking up crushed under a man, I nearly screamed—until I saw who it was. Adrian. My cold, obsessive husband. The man I spent a lifetime escaping from. In my past life, I trusted the wrong people. Betrayed the only man who ever protected me and died alone. One life ruined me. This one? I’ll ruin everyone who tries again. Now, the game is mine and I write the rules. I'll act sweet. Stay mysterious. And pit every snake against each other. And as for my dangerously obsessed husband? I will tame—wait... WAIT! I was just being a little gentle, why is this tyrant acting like a delicate princess? 'Hey, hey, stop clinging to me! What? You want cuddles? Head pats? You—You are not a cat, Adrian!' … “He’s deathly allergic to strawberries? But he devoured one from my hand like it’s a miracle elixir.” “He has sleeping disorders? But he hugged me and passed out like a lazy cat!” “He’s sulking… because I didn’t hold his hand?” When he saw me hugging my female best friend? He lost his mind. Yanked me into his arms and growled, “Mine,” like a deranged villain in love. I finally understood: no one else ever stood a chance. I was his only obsession.

“If you say my name, then I promise to give you a treat.” Isabella smiled coyly, biting her lip while twirling a lock of hair around her index finger. "Dad... why can't we just have sex in your room? Mom's not home, so..." Isabella's words were cut short as her stepfather silenced her with a firm hand over her lips, and in a swift, fluid motion, he spun her around, pressing her face against the wall. "No time for negotiation, my dear." He stated, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "I want to fuck you right here, right now. Bend over," he ordered. His palm was still covering her mouth as his other hand roamed downward, slipping past her lips to explore the depths of her body. Isabella gasped! *** Isabella Roland finds her world turned upside down when she was forced to move in with her estranged mother and stepfather after her beloved uncle’s death. On that very day, she broke up with her boyfriend and had a passionate one-night stand with a stranger—only to discover the next day that the man was her stepfather. They swore it would never happen again, but the pull between them was impossible to resist. "But what happens when they're caught in the act?" "Will their forbidden affair destroy everything they hold dear, or will it lead to something even more dangerous and enticing?"

“I'm not just the vampire king of tales, Ellie. I'm a talented artist.” Vanchure said with every stroke he made on the canvas with his paintbrush. “So you can either be the one posing on my couch, behind the canvas, or be the one whose blood I will use in replacement for paints.” In a mystical world named Shirlon, there was a division of two powerful mythical creatures, two great kingdoms, with two great rulers. Speaking of which were the Black Pack, the werewolves, and the Thorx Coven, the vampire with the respect of law and order. These two kingdoms had a ball of symbiosis where they worked hand in hand to maintain their stable world. The werewolves were considered as the soldiers, the ones left to do the tough and dirty jobs within both kingdoms. While the soldiers had the day and night to themselves, the vampire blossomed in the dark. The vampires were also known as Royalties. They've been known to have ancient riches, making them superior to the soldiers. In these two kingdoms, they had their kings. Eamonn, Alpha of Black Pack, and Vanchure, king of Thorx Coven. They had maintained the order of peace and had always set their boundaries between each other until Ellie came along. Ellie was born of the soldiers, just a commoner that the Alpha of her Pack proclaimed as a mate. Ellie was set on a path to rescue her missing sister from the hands of the vampire king, Vanchure. But on her first encounter with that handsome devil, her whole life takes a different turn.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

Alexander Defiant is the alpha of the silver shadow fangs pack. He is strong, and handsome, but most importantly he dominates anyone who stands in his way of what he wants. Especially, when he meets the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. Anastasia Smith on the other hand has completely different ideas when she meets the infuriating Mr. Defiant. Could a beautiful woman possibly make such a powerful domineering man fall to his knees? Or will the tables turn on Anastasia? Read May I Alpha, the first book in The Defiant Collection to find out.

Imagine a world where werewolves are out in the open, where they have their own kingdom. Mates are a given blessing from the Moon Goddess that most stay true to. There are some that go against her blessing and reject their mates for another. Alexia has saved herself for her mate in every way possible, even to the point that she has never held a male hand other than her father. She believes that she is going to be blessed for her pureness, but will she? Her eighteenth birthday is the same day as the royal ball. Will she meet her mate, and will he accept her.