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From Frying Pan to Strange Fire

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Blurb

Joan Brandon, an only daughter of her parents, was treated badly in her marriage, but forced to endure all the ill treatment for the sake of her father's business. Three years down the line, her husband presented her with a pre birthday gift — his ex girlfriend, who he introduced as his new wife. Heartbroken and shattered, Joan accepts divorce and gives in to her drunken desire, having s*x with a complete stranger she met at her workplace.

That single encounter changed her life forever, opening her to a world she never knew existed, and a life she never would have believed she lived before.

***

Cursed to abhor the touch of a woman after the death of his mate, Roman Graviel, the Lycan ruler of the entire werewolf communities and a revered billionaire in the human communities, lived a long life of ruthlessness and loneliness.

Already resigned to his fate, he decided to lead a secluded life while testing different ways to end his miserable life. When one of his experiments successfully knocked him unconscious, he landed in the hospital where he felt the touch of life that aroused all of the feelings he thought he had killed.

At that moment, he knew he was never letting her go, not for anything or anyone in the world.

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Dirty talk
"No, Joan!" Grace exclaimed in shock. "Not the s*x. You are married for heaven's sake." She added, disbelief evident in her features. "I mean it," Joan affirmed, her green eyes doing nothing to hide the pain in her heart. "Richard has not touched me since we got married." She revealed, lowering her eyes and playing with her fork. In the luxurious surroundings of the fancy restaurant, soft jazz melodies wafted through the air, creating an atmosphere of refined elegance. Crystal chandeliers adorned the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the well-dressed patrons engaged in hushed conversations. The chairs were plush and velvety, cradling diners in comfort, while linen-clad tables enhanced the overall sophisticated ambiance. Joan Brandon, twenty-six years old, blonde, beautiful, with large green eyes, was invited out by her best friend and colleague, Grace Everton, who noticed the latter was feeling lower than usual that day. It was a usual thing for the girls to treat each other to either brunch, lunch, or dinner. But today was special. It was the eve of Joan's birthday, and Grace decided dinner was taking place in one of the fanciest restaurants in town. And just as she suspected, the burden in Joan's heart was not one to be overlooked. Not one she expected her friend to be carrying, at least, not when she was legally married. "You've been married for three years, Jo. And you're saying…" Grace trailed off when Joan began shaking her head in response to the unfinished question, already knowing where it was headed. "Not even one time," Joan confirmed, and Grace's shock could not be contained. "This is unbelievable and unacceptable. Why didn't you say something? How can you endure this for three years?" Grace questioned, annoyance coloring her features. "I thought he would change. I hoped, I mean, I desperately hoped he would come around. But I've given up at this point. I don't know what else to do." Grace let out a sigh of defeat, and pulled her body away from the table. She leaned her back against the backrest of her chair as her fingers softly caressed the body of her wine glass. Twenty-seven years, chubby, black wavy hair, and a face that showed she was created for the soft life, Grace's obsidian black eyes did nothing to hide her disapproval of the way her friend of almost a decade was being treated. "Let me get this straight, Jo," Grace uttered with a serious expression. "You made a little mistake after college and had to pay for your sins by marrying Richard just to save your family's name and business. He turned out to be a jerk, something none of us expected, and you stay faithful to him while he fools around with different call girls and college students, leaving you, his legally married wife, s*x-starved for three years. Also, you can't divorce him because that, of course, would affect your family's business. Is that correct?" Grace asked, no hint of amusement on her face. "Bring your voice down." Joan reprimanded her, darting her eyes around to ensure no one was listening to their conversation, as Grace's voice had gone a little higher than normal. "Is that correct?" Grace repeated the question, speaking in a hushed tone this time. "You already know it. Why asking like that?" "Because I got the solution to your problem," Grace revealed. "You do?" Joan asked, slight relief coming to settle on her features. "I do." Grace nodded in affirmation. "Since you have decided not to take my offer and leave this city, then the only other solution is this. You need a guy on the side to satisfy your s****l needs." "What?!" Joan exclaimed in shock, her eyes stretching wide. "You're joking, right?" "Joking? Hell freaking no! I am very serious about this. No way I'm standing by and watching one stupid boy in the body of a man torture you that way when I can do something about it. Or don't you miss being with a man?" Grace probed, and Joan, once again, darted her eyes around. "Bring your voice down, Grace." "Answer the question." Grace insisted, prompting Joan to let out a sigh. "You know I do. I miss the security and the comfort of being wrapped in the arms of a man." Joan confessed. "Not just the arms, girl. The entire package." Joan let out a chuckle. "Nah... I have a truckload of the troubles, the stress, and the heartache at home, and I've been getting overdosed with those for three years. It's the good stuff I don't have and terribly miss. Stop suggesting a side guy. If I'm caught, Richard will have a good reason to divorce me, and I'm not aiming for that." "You won't be caught. Trust me." Grace declared with full confidence. "I'm not consenting to it. Whatever you do is of your own accord." Joan uttered, and Grace nodded in agreement. "I will gladly take the blame. I won't let you do that to yourself. I mean, you brought me to the wild side and you expect me to watch as you slowly turn into a nun? Never!" "Grace—" "I know. I'm just kidding." Grace let out a defeated sigh, knowing the reason why Joan called her name like that. "I also don't want your Mum to suffer. She is the only reason I have not arranged for your abduction and transportation out of this city." "And she is the only reason I can't afford a divorce now. I can still manage. At least Richard doesn't bring his girls home, and I'm not turning into a nun." "Yes, you are." Grace countered, frowning as she looked around. "I'm sure you don't even remember what a d**k looks like anymore." "Grace!!!" "Prove me wrong by describing it." Grace fixed her serious gaze on Joan, but the latter just slapped her forehead while shaking her head. "Can you stop this dirty talk?" At that question from Joan, Grace let out an exaggerated gasp. "You now call describing a d**k dirty talk? Hah! Richard has done the worst." She threw her hands in the air dramatically as if all hope was lost. "Stop being overly dramatic." Joan scolded, feigning annoyance. "Girl, there's a hot guy checking you out from way over there," Grace announced, fixing her eyes in one direction, switching so quickly from the previous topic as if she hadn't taken it so seriously just seconds ago. "Oh god! Not this again!" Joan slapped her face one more time. "I'm serious. He isn't even trying to look away. Maybe he is the lucky one. I should just go strike a deal with him and discuss payment terms." "Grace!!!" Joan whisper yelled, feeling embarrassed already. "What?" Grace chuckled. "Your face is so red. Alright. I'll let you off tonight because it's your birthday Eve, and also tomorrow because it's your birthday and nothing must ruin it. From the day after, we're finding a solution to your problems. So eat up. This food is getting cold." Having let out the burden in her heart, Joan regained some of her appetite and downed the remaining food on her plate. Her only wish was to be happy for the rest of the night, and the whole of the next day, being her birthday. But if wishes were horses...

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