
From The Rule Breakers Standalone Series

He's too good to be true, but taboo usually is.
When Oryana’s world imploded, she never thought she would smile again, but befriending Flora made her days okay, and seeing Flora's brother Devon, filled her nights with illicit dreams.
She promised Devon would always be off-limits, but when he dangles himself before her, Oryana cannot deny her lustful desires.
Just one night... What could it hurt?
Oryana is about to discover that some vows are not meant to be broken, but shattering them completely can be most satisfying indeed.
Read a teaser below

It’s time I return to the living; time for me to look at the bright sun and let it warm my face, and permit myself to be free from the cold burden of grief that’s tarnished my soul.
That’s easier said than done when my heart died with my husband. Our hopes and dreams of a lifelong future with him by my side, fathering my children, and watching them grow into parents of their own have vanished.
I endure, but I’m not truly living… Until my elderly neighbour passes away and his dark-haired, hazel eyed son comes to town bearing burdens of his own.
*If you are someone grieving over the loss of a spouse, keep in mind that this book deals with such grief and the difficulties that follow. Also, this book contains sensitive situations such as descriptions of violence, and fully-consensual sexual situations including bondage and kink.
Rule Breakers Books 1 & 2 Teasers
Rule Breakers #1 My Best Friend’s Brother
© Pebbles Lacasse 2024
I’m in charge of a chain of six grocery/department stores in and around the Toronto area. Corporate prefers me to work from the main office in Mississauga, but I find it too stuffy and impersonal. Besides, I had to dress in business attire every day, and that rarely makes for a comfortable workday. My preference is to wear dress pants or nice jeans and a silky blouse with a casual cardigan when needed.
High heels aren’t my idea of comfort, but they’re sometimes deemed necessary. I’m only 5’2”, and my female presence doesn’t intimidate enough for some of the male egos who deem me more of a nuisance than a district manager. Maybe high heels boost my confidence enough that I feel tougher and insist they mind me. Or it’s all in my imagination and they don’t respect me—they simply want to get in my pants. Earning respect isn’t easy when I’m dwarfed by tall, thick men swinging their dicks around as if that earns them privilege.
“Skip the meeting. Come to the shop,” Flora says, but it’s the toilet flush in the background that has my tired eyes rolling. “I’ll make you a special donut just how you like it.”
“Were you pooping when you called me?”
My feet press to the chilly hardwood floor, causing me to shiver and sift through my sheets in search of the sweater I wore last night.
She laughs. “Yeah. Sorry. I was prairie-dogging it.”
“You’re so gross.”
She laughs harder. “So, are you coming to the shop?”
The bathroom ignites with LED brightness and my squinted eyes don’t ease the painful glare from the pale blue-painted walls. The reflection of my puffy eyes and a cheek indented from a pillowcase wrinkle are causes for another groan.
My tired voice matches my appearance. “If the meeting goes well, I’ll go. But I can’t make any promises.”
“All right. If you show up, you show up. Please come to the club.” Flora pauses before she adds, “I have to let you go. Text me if you’re coming… Or if you’re not… Whatever. No pressure! Okay, so maybe a little pressure.”
Exasperated, my voice rises. “Um, yeah! Vice-like pressure.”
Flora snickers before she says, “Bye, bitch. See you later!”
“See you—maybe.”
I laugh, hang up, and set the phone on the sink’s edge. One more disappointed look into the mirror proves the indents likely won’t puff out for at least an hour. ...
Rule Breakers #2 The Widowed
© Pebbles Lacasse 2025
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN - Heather
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Parked next to my house, the headlights fall dark as I absorb the silence with my keys in my hand.
Why did I tell him I had work to do? I always have work to do, but what awaits me will hold until tomorrow.
As the canopy of trees hovers like a vast umbrella above my truck, the darkness offers no visual into the forest. Through the passenger’s window, the beginning of the trail leading to the rushing waters of the river is dusted with moonlight. It’s just bright enough to deter any monsters from skulking about in the darkness.
“Monsters? Really?” My head shakes as I snicker and open my door. The truck’s cab explodes with brightness, so I close my eyes until I’m outside and shut the door to kill it.
Monsters… Leo would tease me by making up a scary story whenever we would go for a walk at night. Back then, I hated how he enjoyed scaring me. But I’d give anything now to hear one of his stories. I miss him.
Maybe it’s time I make my own story as I take a night stroll.
I set my purse on the porch along with my keys but keep my phone handy to use as a light source should it be required.
The soles of my running shoes pad the trail, making me wish I’d taken a moment to put on my hiking boots and get an actual flashlight. Every stone and branch jutting from the dusty trail stabs at my feet through the thin soles.
Each step brings me closer to the stark darkness. It’s time to begin my first solo story.
“As she walks through the forest, lost and alone, a creature with yellow eyes follows her every step. The scent of her fear teases the nostrils of the beast. Sticky saliva reeking of rotten fish and the blood of past victims drips in globs from its sagging jowls.”
It’s so dark, I don’t notice the thick branch I keep forgetting to cut down. It overhangs the path a few inches too low to miss my head. Before the sharpness of the branch meets my forehead, the delicate brush of a spider’s web is first to meet my face. I’m instinctually doing my best karate moves to shake the web from my face and hair.
Please, don’t let the spider take up residence in my hair.
When I’m positive an eight-legged passenger isn’t on me, I take several deep breaths while my hand covers my chest with the intention of stopping my pounding heart from thrusting itself from my ribcage. I continue down the path with caution.
I’m no longer interested in finishing that story. Out of habit, I turn to look over my shoulder to scold Leo for laughing during my traumatic dance with a spider web. But I’m met only with shadows. Was he here? Did I hear him laugh, or did I imagine it?
The sound of rushing water welcomes me before the path opens to moonlight’s kiss on the waves as they gently crest and sink back into the dark water.
Splashes off boulders rude enough to impede the water from its final destination miles downstream interrupt the silence. Crickets serenade me as the coolness of the fresh air lightly misted with the scent of pine fills my lungs.
Whether Leo is here to hear me or not, I must tell the universe what has me so torn.
“If anyone’s listening, thanks for being here with me.”
This is so silly! No one’s here.
My fingertips rub my forehead as my weight shifts to one hip. With my arms crossed tightly over my chest, I begin again. …