Priscilla Padilla
3 Published Stories
Priscilla Padilla's Books and Stories
Seduced by the Night
Romance "Just one night?" I questioned, slowly bringing my gaze back up to his.
"Just one night," he reiterated.
I took a deep breath. "If I do this, then you have to promise me that one night will be enough."
"Dove, you know I can't make that promise." He closed the distance between us, reaching up to caress my cheek. "And neither can you."
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Harlynn Murphy is a 23 year old Escort. Under the alias Dove, everyone knows who she is in the Escort world. But outside of her occupation, she's just Harlynn- a woman simply trying to pay her rent on time and be the best mama she can be to her fur baby Bolt.
23 year old Mason has always believed in living life to the fullest. Especially when it comes to women. Never having had an issue in the women department, Mason is shocked when he can't find a date for his older brother's wedding. So, as a last-minute resort, he decides to hire an Escort.
What happens when their business relationship turns into a friend with benefits? Will the two be able to keep from falling for each other? Niccolo Fierri
Mafia "You have quite the mouth on you princess," he seethes, brow quirked.
His grip on my arm tightens and a whimper escapes me. "Watch your mouth when you're talking to me."
"Or what?" I retort, attempting and failing to get out from his grasp.
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Autumn Jacobs, 26-year-old, wants to prove to her parents that she can build a successful life without their money. With dreams of becoming a dancer and owning her own dance studio, she applies to become a stripper at a nightclub. Little does she know, her bosses are members of the biggest Mafia family in all of New York.
After the death of his father five years ago, 30 year old Niccolo Fierri became angry with the world. To him, everyone and everything around him is just a means to an end. That is, until he meets Autumn Jacobs.
Have they finally met their match? Will they become the thing that saves or breaks one another? You might like
Fake Amnesia, Real Betrayal
Gavin The call came at 7:05 PM on our tenth wedding anniversary.
My husband, David, was in an accident.
At the hospital, he was awake, but a young woman, his assistant Chloe, was holding his hand, acting like his wife.
When I walked in, he looked at me, a blank stranger' s stare, then asked, "Who are you?"
He laughed when I said I was his wife, then demanded security remove me, while Chloe, smiling, pretended to cry.
It wasn't just memory loss; it was a cruel, targeted erasure.
I tried proof, the marriage certificate, but he pushed it away as "just a piece of paper."
Then Chloe waltzed in with his favorite soup, and he defended her when I confronted her.
"She' s the only one who' s been here for me!" he screamed.
He snarled that I was "exhausted, haggard," compared to Chloe, who was "kind and gentle."
My wedding ring, a symbol of our forever, flew from my hand as he slapped it away, clinking under the bed.
"Don' t come back," he said, turning his back on me to comfort Chloe.
Later, I learned why: he had been having an affair with Chloe, his mother's 65th birthday ruined by his absence and her answering his phone.
My world shattered when Mark Johnson, David's estranged best friend, told me what David said: "The fake amnesia was a stroke of genius, right? A clean break."
My husband had faked a brain injury to throw me away.
A car hit me, sending me to the hospital, and I knew what I had to do.
When Mark came in, I looked at him, my face blank, then asked, "Are you… my husband?" Mummery
Gilbert Cannan This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1919 Excerpt: ...loss of humanity. Henceforth she must deal with realities, leaving him to his painted mummery.... She could understand his frenzy, his fury, his despair. \"That will do, Charles,\" she said very quietly. \"I will see what can be done about Mr. Clott, and whatever happens I will see that you are not harmed.... If you like, you can dine with Verschoyle and me tonight. You can come home with me now, while I dress. I am to meet him at the Carlton and then we are going on to the Opera.\" \"Does Verschoyle know?\" \"He knows that you are you and that I am I---that is all he cares about.... He is a good man. If people must have too much money, he is the right man to have it. He would never let a man down for want of money--if the man was worth it.\" \"Ah!\" said Charles, reassured. This was like the old Clara speaking, but with more assurance, a more certain knowledge and less bewildering intuition and guess-work. A Few weeks later, with Verschoyle and a poor relation of his, a Miss Vibart Withers, for chaperone, Clara left London in a 60 h.p. Fiat, which voraciously ate up the Bath Road at the rate of a mile every minute and a half.... It was good to be out of the thick heat of London, invaded by foreigners and provincials and turned into a city of pleasure and summer-frocks, so that its normal life was submerged, its character hidden. The town became as lazy and drowsy a spectacle as a field of poppies over which danced gay and brilliant butterflies. Very sweet was it then to turn away from it, and all that was happening in it, to the sweet air and to fly along between green fields and orchards, through little towns, at intervals to cross the Thames and to feel that with each crossing London lay so much farther away. Henle... No Second Chance With My Past
Gavin I thought leaving Hollywood, branded a plagiarist and heartbroken, would bury the past forever.
My film school dream, "Desert Bloom," was supposed to be my triumph, a shared vision with Isabella Hayes, my muse and first love.
Instead, it became my ruin, as Isabella, seduced by Julian Vance, the slick heir of a rival studio, coldly betrayed me.
She stood on stage, her voice trembling with feigned sincerity, publicly accusing me of stealing my own script, conceived in our golden days.
The humiliation was a physical agony, a death sentence for my nascent career, forcing me to flee to Europe a broken man.
How could the woman who once looked at me like I held the stars in my hands, surrender our shared dream, our love, for a manipulative con artist?
I rebuilt my life from the ashes, finding solace in a new career, a loving wife, Olivia, and our beautiful daughter, Lily, who became my anchor.
But now, years later, the past has crashed back.
I'm back at my old school, and Isabella, the architect of my ruin, is here too, brazenly trying to rewrite history.
She's publicly proposing we "reunite" to finally make "Desert Bloom," attempting to reclaim a story she deliberately destroyed.
She expects me to play along, to let her manipulate my narrative, to fall back into her toxic orbit.
She has no idea about the life I've painstakingly built, or how fiercely I will protect it.
Tonight, the ghost of my past will finally face the undeniable truth of my present. Justice Served Cold
Gavin My 18th birthday was supposed to be a celebration, a chance for my biological family, the Hewitts, to finally accept me.
Living in their lavish Napa Valley winery, I desperately hoped for their love, despite being cast aside for their adopted daughter, Nicole.
But the party turned into a nightmare when Nicole burst in, smeared with fake blood, dramatically accusing me of hiring men to hurt her.
The room erupted.
My "parents" looked at me with disgust, my brother Andrew, the one I' d longed for a bond with, unleashed his fury.
He beat me, kicking me as I collapsed, while my father watched indifferently and my mother prepared to institutionalize me.
They dragged me out like trash, sending me to Dr. Albright' s "behavioral correction facility" – a private asylum for inconvenient children.
I felt a deeper pain than any physical blow; the betrayal was absolute, the injustice unbearable.
How could they believe such a monstrous lie? How could my own family turn on me so viciously, so easily?
They broke Molly there, with every needle and shock, every whispered lie, until, on the brink of sexual assault, her gentle spirit gave way.
But a whisper echoed in my mind: "Stella… make them pay."
That night, Molly died, and I, Stella, was born, ready to exact a chilling revenge. One Night With Blaze
R.C.Brie15 Blaze Arden Vaughn is an heir of a huge empire, an ace student of medical faculty, very handsome, sweet and nice. His name signifies fire but his heart is as cold as ice.
Ace Daxton Anderson is a known 'one night stand' guy and a bi. A gang leader who won't back down from a gang fight and is not afraid to be bruised just to prove his point.
They are both in the same university but they have their own territory and never knew each other's existence. Until the day that the Ice Prince fixed his cold gaze on the very hot gang leader on the field.
"You want me that bad...that your eyes are screaming it out loud..." Blaze announced with his challenging tone and a calm smile, making Ace's jaw clenched while their gazes locked.
"I can smell your desire even from afar..." Blaze continued with a very subtle smirk, making Ace grit his teeth.
"Who would not...you are Blaze Arden Vaughn...the epitome of perfection...everybody's dream guy" Ace sarcastically responded, a smirk grazed his lips. His jaw clenching in annoyance not with Blaze but with himself.
"So Ace Anderson, want to try, a Blaze Arden Vaughn for tonight?" Blaze smirked as he casually ask, making the grim face of the gang leader looked stunned and dumbfounded.
A one night stand offered by the cold and distant Blaze Arden Vaughn, just one night of pleasure… one night of curiosity.
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