Totally Devoted

by Wanitta Praks

  This was it. This was my cue to get out. Fast. But the room exploded in noise again, and I was jostled to the front unexpectedly, stumbling headfirst out onto the open lane, my face aimed for the floor, or possibly my precious cupcake, smashing flat against blood-stained concrete.

  Luckily, someone caught me in time, stepping in and twisting my body around in their arms, stopping me from meeting my embarrassing and bloodcurdling fate.

  My head spun at the great impact. A second later, my bearings came back. But strangely, I became aware of the eerie silence filling the room and the warm hands that were still grasping my arms, keeping me in balance.

  I felt awkward, like I was out of place. Actually, I should rephrase that. I was out of place and out of line in here. With my goody–two-shoes, black polished pumps, a creamy white dress, and black cardigan on, I was like a little dove, roughly shoved into the nest of the gawking crows. It was fine before, since I was camouflaged among the crowd, but now, all eyes were on me.

  Still trying to breathe and remain calm, my eyes searched for my savior. Judging by the grip on my arms, my savior was a man.

  My gaze slowly took in the sight of his hands on my arms. His fingers were big and rough, the skin chipped and cracked, the knuckles hard and worn. His grasp alone swallowed the whole circumference of my arms. I assumed he must be a big man.

  Moving my gaze farther up, I sighted his upper biceps, all firm and tight, all the way to his deltoid muscle, where the image of a soaring eagle was tattooed.

  The eagle tattoo was large, with one side of its wing extending to cover a quarter of his chest. The vibrancy of colors fused together to create one beautiful-looking masterpiece.

  I had never thought about getting a tattoo before. It had never crossed my mind. To me, a tattoo was the epitome of all things of badness. But somehow, I found this piece almost inspiring, like there was a story behind it.

  Traveling farther south from his shoulders, my eyes finally locked on to his chest. The man was shirtless, and he was covered in sweat, like water droplets running off a showerhead all the way down his body, accentuating the contours of his six-pack abs, which were so flat they eventually narrowed down to...

  Oh, God. I felt my muscle clenching at the center of my core. Which only meant one thing. I was aroused.

  Oh, God. No man with a half-naked self like this could make me aroused. But maybe it was because I was immersed in a room filled with men raging with testosterone, hence, why my hormones were playing havoc in response.

  I shouldn’t do this. I should stop staring at his chest. I should stop staring at his abs. They are too smooth, too taut, too...

  God. No. Stop thinking about it, Lily.

  Thank God, his shorts were a decent size that it covered up his package. I didn’t want to imagine what lay between his legs.

  Snapping my eyes up to face him, to stop myself from thinking disastrous thoughts that could rouse my body further, I looked straight into his eyes. And I drank in his whole profile.

  Thick black hair hung a little too long over his shoulders in naughty waves. His sharp jawbones only served to accentuate the curvature of his neck. And with his high bridged nose, and large blue pupils with long black lashes that fanned along the arch of his eyelids, he could be the next high fashion model. I could understand why they dubbed him the heartbreaker. He could break any woman’s heart with just his face alone. And that’s ignoring his body.

  With the unthinkable force of AA batteries, his crystal-blue eyes pierced me then, and my whole body went berserk. Especially my heartbeat, which pounded like Japanese drums, a different beat than the one before. And then my hands had to act in accordance to that, too. I accidently held out my precious cupcake box in front of me, like I was making an offering to the almighty God Zeus for saving my life.

  He looked at me. No, stared at me. As if seeing a female for the first time in his life. And then he sniffed the air. Or was it my hair? I wasn’t sure anymore. My heart was pumping too fast. I couldn’t speak. Let alone think. Because now he was beside my ear, sniffing my shoulder and around my head.

  He was strange, but he was what dominated my mind at that moment. Forgotten was my fear of small spaces. In its place was my fascination with this man. So, I continued to stand still, staring at him, mesmerized by his aura, while he in turn continued to look at me and smell me, assess me, to determine whether I was a friend, foe, fan, or food. Just as swiftly, those crystal-blue pupils shifted to the cupcake box in my hands. Slowly, he shifted his gaze back to me again.

  His black sooty eyebrows shot up, as though querying me about something, then back to the cake box again. Suddenly, an expression of hunger flashed across his eyes. Then he did the unthinkable. He took the cupcake box out of my hands, opened it, fixed his eyes on my beautifully decorated golden cupcake for half a second, then popped the whole thing in his mouth.

  I was so shocked that I couldn’t do a thing. All I did was watched him chew my cupcake, watching how his Adam’s apple bobbled up when he swallowed.

  “Thanks,” he said once finished, handing me back the emptied box, now devoid of my cake. And then he sauntered off casually, right into the boxing ring.

  The audience exploded into full volume again. It was like a live music concert. All the girls were touching his legs and throwing their arms about, as if welcoming an idol.

  I was speechless. My cake, which I had spent hours slaving over and pouring my love into, now down the throat of a stranger who was about to start a fight in the boxing ring. My beautifully decorated, handcrafted cake, which I’d made especially for Patrick’s birthday.

  I should have felt something, a little angry, maybe even a bit annoyed at this whole situation, yet none of those emotions surfaced. In their place was a sense of serenity as I looked at him, at the man who’d saved my life, at the man who was about to fight to earn that $200 cash.

  Tension coiled in my stomach as I watched the two men take their positions. And then, swift as a fly, Heartbreaker’s gaze reverted to me; his focus centered on me.

  This was no surreptitious action, no small steps of caution. It was a straight on stare, like he was still hungry, even when he’d just eaten my cake.

  Way across the room, our eyes continued to lock in a trance. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a hand flew forward, smashing straight into Heartbreaker’s jaw. The impact was so strong blood sprayed out of his mouth.

  My heart jumped at the gruesome impact. I gripped my fingers into tight fists until my nails dug into the palms of my skin. But still I didn’t relent. My attention was only on Heartbreaker.

  I realized this wasn’t a good sport where one fought the other with dignity and rule. This was a bloodbath. Wayne just kept on pounding Heartbreaker, and I was about to faint from the sight of blood staining their white cloth-wrapped hands.

  Suddenly Heartbreaker had his eyes on me again. Didn’t he feel any pain from that attack? Why was he looking at me again?

  I looked back at him, giving him a small weak smile, my little encouragement for him. And suddenly, it was like he’d been transformed into a rhinoceros. With the sugar in my cupcake, it must have worked its magic, because now, he was the one who was giving all the punches. Which only made me feel bad, since now poor Wayne was at the receiving end. And the impact wasn’t like what Wayne had given to Heartbreaker. Heartbreaker was going for the kill.

  Punch after punch, blow after blow Heartbreaker bestowed on Wayne. And Wayne was gifted with bruises all over his face. Finally, after enduring what seemed like centuries of punches, backwards and forwards, mainly from Heartbreaker to Wayne, one of them fell. It was Wayne.

  I almost followed Wayne, too. My body was so tensed and stressed out from being in this crowd, from witnessing this scene, from not being able to breathe proper air, that I caved in.

  But my body didn’t hit the floor. I was cushioned against Heartbreaker’s chest. Somehow, Heartbreaker had me in his arms, which I found strange, because wasn’t he supposed to be
in the boxing ring fighting?

  Heartbreaker picked me up. I looked at him fuzzily. He really was handsome up this close.

  “Don’t follow,” he barked at the oncoming crowd, who came to view the unscripted commotion.

  The words ‘bitch’ and ‘ho’ were thrown at me by the girls on the sidelines, but collectively, their voices were drowned out by the men shouting and cheering Heartbreaker, just as Heartbreaker carried me to who-knows-where.

  But by then, I’d completely lost it. I closed my eyes, feeling my head spinning in a black void.

  I couldn’t make sense of anything anymore. I wanted to go home. Needed to go home. So I fluttered my eyes open again and looked up at Heartbreaker, whose eyes were now directed straight at the path in front of him.

  “Heartbreaker, put me down,” I said, feeling uncomfortable in his arms.

  His eyes immediately jerked to me, as if he didn’t expect me to call him by this name. But still, he didn’t speak. He just kept walking. And looking at me.

  Heat infused my face the longer he stared at me. I felt hot all over. Like I was on fire in his arms.

  “Heartbreaker. Please. Let me down. I’m feeling bet—”

  “No.” He cut me off. “We’re almost there. You’ll feel better in a bit.”

  I stayed silent in his arms, my whole body rigid as he climbed up some stairs.

  I was not used to anyone carrying me. But being carried by a man I found attractive, somehow my heart fluttered a bit. Maybe this was the freedom I’d sought.

  Maybe...

  * * *

  Book 1: Completely Breathless

  Preorder Available Now

  Release Date: 15th September 2020

  Her Majesty & The Four Kings

  Clarissa Rose’s Reverse Harem Love Story

  Book 1: Her Majesty is Here

  Getting crushed under a monster truck is never a pleasant feeling. If I could relive that moment, I would never have taken that route. But we never really get a second chance at life. Or do we?

  * * *

  I want to say I died a noble death. And for that reason, I was given a second chance at life. I don’t hesitate to take the offering, outlining the criteria on my wish list.

  * * *

  Enjoy life to the fullest

  Fall in love with a man

  Would like to have a warm, loving family

  Eat plenty of delicious food as I was starved for most of my life growing up

  * * *

  All is well and good, until I open my eyes to a strange new world, with four strikingly stunning men staring back at me. They said they were the four kings, in charge of governing the four nations of Alyria, and I am their queen, the overall ruler of their kingdom.

  * * *

  But it isn’t just pretty flowers and wispy daisies. They suspect I’m not who I say I am. I live under their watchful eyes, as they literally, and figuratively, peel away every layer of my clothing to get to the real me. Trying to keep my real identity under wraps is one thing, but getting tempted by the four kings is another matter, entirely. How am I to survive in my new world?

  * * *

  Her Majesty is Here is a reverse harem fantasy romance novel. It is the first book in Her Majesty & the Four Kings series. With laugh out loud moments, political intrigue, murder mystery, and steamy romantic scenes, this first book ends in a cliffhanger.

  The Billionaire’s Twisted Love

  Kimberly and Julian’s love story

  Book 1: Captivated by You

  Free to download on selected online stores

  “I want to be scorched by your flame. I want to be enticed by your touch. Let me in. Open the door to your heart so I can save you.”

  * * *

  What is it about the enigmatic and taciturn Julian Devereux that captivates me so? His kind and selfless acts towards others ignite my compassionate nature to protect him from the bitter onslaught of his brother, Joshua Devereux.

  * * *

  But is it merely my nature to help the weak, or is it simply to indulge myself in pleasure, watching in delight as two brothers battle for my attention and their family inheritance?

  * * *

  Maybe deep down, I already know I love him and am willing to sacrifice and back him up in every ordeal. But I didn’t anticipate the path I chose would eventually spiral out of my control, tearing at my heart and tossing me into a labyrinth of illusion.

  * * *

  The Billionaire's Twisted Love series contains content and themes suitable for mature readers. Beware, the love scenes are super hot. This first book ends in a cliffhanger.

  Baby Be Mine

  Clarice and Hunter’s love story

  Book 1: Baby Be Mine

  Free to download on selected online stores

  Turning thirty is like a big sale at the meat market. You have to go on discount before someone starts considering you. And that’s not the only problem Clarice Mason has to deal with, because right now her biological clock is ticking and she realizes that one morning she might wake up with white hair and a walking cane as her only companion. So to soothe her problem, Clarice has resolved to have a baby.

  * * *

  Enter Anton Silverton, the man that possesses all the traits Clarice has ever wanted in a mate: tall, handsome, smart, and an overall gentleman—all the perfect genes for her baby. All she has to do now is ask him nicely to donate a little sperm so she can conceive. But damn Hunter Silverton—Anton’s smart-mouth, no-good cousin with the title of number one Casanova in Australasia—has to come stirring up trouble. And now, under the influence of hormonal imbalances, Clarice finds her craving for a baby might not be enough, for she is beginning to crave the love of one of these men.

  Boss Lady

  Whitney and Darcy’s love story

  Book 3: Boss Lady

  Whitney, the so-called tyrant boss of E Magazine, is in trouble. Her best friend Clarice is getting married and has asked her to be one of her bridesmaids, which requires wearing beautiful feminine gowns. That's fine by her, but how is she to keep up her persona of the militant boss when Darcy, her submissive personal assistant, will be tagging along too? What makes everything worse is the more she knows Darcy outside of work, the more she realizes that distinct black and white guise of hers is starting to become a blurry grey line.

  * * *

  Darcy is also in trouble. After tasting the forbidden fruit, the hatred he feels for his boss has now somehow turned to heated desire. Now he can’t stop thinking about her. But Darcy knows one thing for sure. When it comes to matters of the heart, Whitney may be the dictator in their office, but only he will come out on top in the bedroom.

  * * *

  This story of a tyrant boss and her submissive personal assistant is about to get interesting when mistaken identity and convoluted circumstances take place. In the end, they are left with the question: Who’s the master and who’s the submissive in this relationship.

  * * *

  Spinsters and Playboys series is set in the beautiful country of New Zealand. Still humorous and steamy, this third book features a new couple, complete with a happy ending. This book can be read as a standalone, but for more enjoyment, it's best to read in the following order:

  1) Baby Be Mine (Clarice and Hunter book 1)

  2) Baby I'm Yours (Clarice and Hunter book 2)

  3) Boss Lady (Whitney and Darcy) A standalone novel

  Let Me Love You

  Ivy and Zac’s love story: A Young Adult High School Romance Novel

  Let Me Love You

  Ivy

  * * *

  I’m good at hiding. I left all those bad memories behind and now am starting a new life in this new town.

  * * *

  A new school. A fresh start. Life is good. Until I meet him. And all my nightmares come rushing back.

  * * *

  Zac, the lead singer of Apollo, with his inky black hair and deep emerald eyes, tempts me in ways no guy has ever done before. He m
akes me want him, but my past keeps pushing him away.

  * * *

  I keep telling myself it’s okay, forget the past and move on. But no matter how many excuses I come up with, in the end, he still is the center of my nightmare.

  * * *

  Zac

  * * *