550 Book(s) Related to let it snow book

In order to rush to comfort his assistant whose apartment was leaking, Richard signed his name hastily without even glancing at the documents on the table.
I put away the divorce agreement with a wry smile.
When he and my son completely disappeared, he finally panicked.
Three months later .
He knelt down on the streets of Chicago in despair, begging me to remarry him.
My six-year-old son looked coldly at his biological father and said, "Get lost, you bad uncle! You don't deserve to be my dad!"

"Very entertaining. Highly recommended for the permanent library of any reader who appreciates a well-written mystery with twists and an intelligent plot. You will not be disappointed. Excellent way to spend a cold weekend!" --Books and Movie Reviews (regarding Murder in the Manor)A VILLA IN SICILY: OLIVE OIL AND MURDER is the debut novel in a charming new cozy mystery series by bestselling author Fiona Grace, author of Murder in the Manor, a #1 Bestseller with over 100 five-star reviews (and a free download)!Audrey Smart, 34, is a brilliant vet—yet fed up by her demanding clients who think they know more than her and who don’t care about their animals. Burnt-out with the endless hours, she wonders if the time has come for a new direction. And when her 15th year high school reunion (and her hopes for re-sparking on old flame) end in disaster, Audrey knows the time has come to make a change.When Audrey sees an ad for a $1 home in Sicily, it captivates her. The only catch is that the house requires renovation, something she knows little about. She wonders if it could be real—and if she may really be crazy enough to go for it. Can Audrey create a life and career—and the home of her dreams—in a beautiful Sicilian village? And perhaps even find love while she’s there?Or will an unexpected death—one that only she can solve—put an end to all of her plans?Are some dreams too good to be true?A laugh-out-loud cozy packed with mystery, intrigue, renovation, animals, food, wine—and of course, love—A VILLA IN SICILY will capture your heart and keep you glued to the very last page.“The book had heart and the entire story worked together seamlessly that didn't sacrifice either intrigue or personality. I loved the characters - so many great characters! I can't wait to read whatever Fiona Grace writes next!”--Amazon reviewer (regarding Murder in the Manor)“Wow, this book takes off & never stops! I couldn't put it down! Highly recommended for those who love a great mystery with twists, turns, romance, and a long lost family member! I am reading the next book right now!” --Amazon reviewer (regarding Murder in the Manor)“This book is rather fast paced. It has the right blend of characters, place, and emotions. It was hard to put down and I hope to read the next book in the series.”--Amazon reviewer (regarding Murder in the Manor)Books #2 and #3 in the series—FIGS AND A CADAVER and VINO AND DEATH—are now also available!

"Very entertaining. Highly recommended for the permanent library of any reader who appreciates a well-written mystery with twists and an intelligent plot. You will not be disappointed. Excellent way to spend a cold weekend!".--Books and Movie Reviews (regarding Murder in the Manor)SKEPTIC IN SALEM: AN EPISODE OF DEATH is Book #3 in a charming new cozy mystery series by bestselling author Fiona Grace, author of Murder in the Manor, a #1 Bestseller with over 100 five-star reviews (and a free download)!When Mia Bold, 30, learns that the pharmaceutical company she works for only cares about money, she quits on the spot, walking away from a high-powered career—and from her long-time boyfriend, who breaks up with her.With the podcast and TV show taking off, Mia’s career and life are finally starting to bloom again—when her uptight family makes an unexpected visit to Salem, to cast doubts on her passion and to urge her to return home.At the same time, Mia’s show must try to debunk a notoriously haunted house, now on the market for sale. Mia, unable to explain the phenomena, seems to have met her match—just as the real estate agent drops dead.Could this house be as insidious as it seems?Or might there be some other motive?A mesmerizing page-turner, packed with intrigue, mystery, romance, pets, food—and most of all, the supernatural—SKEPTIC IN SALEM is a cozy with a twist, one you will cherish as it has you fall in love with its main character and as it keeps you glued (and laughing) throughout the night.“The book had heart and the entire story worked together seamlessly that didn't sacrifice either intrigue or personality. I loved the characters - so many great characters! I can't wait to read whatever Fiona Grace writes next!”--Amazon reviewer (regarding Murder in the Manor)“Wow, this book takes off & never stops! I couldn't put it down! Highly recommended for those who love a great mystery with twists, turns, romance, and a long lost family member! I am reading the next book right now!” --Amazon reviewer (regarding Murder in the Manor)“This book is rather fast paced. It has the right blend of characters, place, and emotions. It was hard to put down and I hope to read the next book in the series.”--Amazon reviewer (regarding Murder in the Manor)

"I want to move to Rivers End. I feel like I already have friends there." Dani Collins, USA Today Bestselling Author of the Blue Spruce Lodge series The MacAllisters of Rivers End boxed set includes books #1–4If you love heartwarming, sweet and sexy contemporary small town romance, then come home to Rivers End and fall in love with the MacAllisters and the Murphys. They just want to settle down and lead normal lives in their small Vancouver Island town, but romance blossoms in the unlikeliest places. And trouble has a way of finding them...Silver Bells (Isaac MacAllister + Jenna Murphy, Beginnings)Big River Lodge owner Isaac MacAllister has no time for romance. He’s got enough on his plate with a spritely kindergartener to raise and a business to run. But he doesn’t bargain on the appearance of the irresistible Jenna Murphy. Jenna just wants to escape work and family for a while. In Silver Bells, will she let one sexy dad and his sweet daughter Sara derail her plans for her holiday… and her life?Tipsy (Shannon MacAllister + Lucas Heyes)Shannon MacAllister wants to ring in the new year with someone who is nothing like her ex. She gets her wish. Too bad Lucas Heyes, world-class kisser, is a family traitor who lost her trust five years ago. Lucas wants to mend fences with the MacAllisters and start afresh in Rivers End. In Tipsy, will this dark horse convince Shannon to open her heart and risk trying again?Reindeer Games (Eli Murphy + Ginger Lewis)If wandering homeless in a snowstorm on Christmas Eve isn’t rock bottom, it sure feels like it to Jenna’s estranged brother Eli Murphy. So when Ginger Lewis rescues him, he finds himself fantasizing about a future he doesn’t deserve. But the last thing Ginger needs is a mysterious bad boy with a criminal jawline. Before the Reindeer Games are over, loyalties will be tested and secrets will be spilled.Wedding Bells (Isaac MacAllister + Jenna Murphy, Happily Ever After)In Wedding Bells, Isaac MacAllister is this close to making Jenna Murphy his, forever. Then his ex—Sara’s mother—rolls into town, bringing unfinished business with her. Sidelined by the drama, Jenna knows she should strike out on her own. But how can she, when she already sees Isaac and Sara as family? While all the Rivers End stories can be read as standalones, you may want to read this series in order to preserve any plot surprises and get the full picture of how the characters lives weave together! The following is the suggested reading order:The MacAllisters of Rivers End#1 - Silver Bells (Isaac + Jenna, Beginnings)#2 - Tipsy (Shannon + Lucas)#3 - Reindeer Games (Ginger + Eli)#4 - Wedding Bells (Isaac + Jenna, Happily Ever After)#5 – Elfed (Lindsay + Noah)

For three years, she nursed her paralyzed husband, risked her own life testing experimental drugs, and nearly destroyed her health to pull him back from the brink of death.
But on the very day he fully recovered, he held his first love in his arms and declared, “I will take care of her and our child for the rest of my life.”
Heartbroken, she asked for a divorce. In return, he coldly froze all her bank accounts and forced her out of the house with nothing, sneering, “You are nothing without me.”
It was not until she hid her pregnancy test and walked away for good that he finally panicked.

"We can only take one more person! Any heavier and we ALL go down!"

In the middle of a raging forest fire, my fiancé Carter Hayes was piloting a fuel-leaking helicopter, forced to choose between me and my cousin Lily Sterling.

He chose me.

Lily was left behind in the inferno. She burned.

I thought surviving made me lucky — until my parents slapped me across the face at my wedding. "Why wasn't it YOU who died?"

Turns out, I was never the one they wanted to save.

Carter married me, then spent five years making me wish I'd died in that fire instead. He and my parents worked together, systematically stripping away my dignity, my career, and every reason I had to keep living.

Three years into my depression, I jumped from the top floor of the Hayes estate.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself back before the fire — before the helicopter took off, before Carter made his choice.

This time, I spoke first. "Take Lily."

If they all wanted me dead, then I'd give them exactly what they wanted.

For seven years, I told myself James wasn't cold; he simply loved quietly. Then my car died after midnight, and he told me to call a cab. When I earned the promotion I had chased for two years, he forgot my message. But when his ex said she felt sick, he left work with medicine in one hand and her exact coffee order in the other. That was when I understood: my husband knew how to care. He had simply never chosen to care for me. By our anniversary, I would stop waiting, leave his gift on the table, and move out. Only then would James begin to love me—and by then, it would be too late.

My husband's first love, Celine, lured me to a remote cabin under the guise of an "apology."
 
She then poured gasoline all over the porch and locked the door from the outside.
 
In my past life, the moment the fire began to spread, I desperately called my husband, Julian—a fire captain—for rescue.
 
He smashed the door open and saved me.
 
Ironically, Celine's scheme backfired, and she died of smoke inhalation outside.
 
Yet, Julian pinned her blood debt entirely on me.
 
He kept me at the hospital with his hypocritical comfort, only to tear off his disguise the day I was discharged. He tied me to a pillar in an abandoned warehouse and poured gasoline at my feet.
 
As the flames ignited, my ten-week-old unborn child and I were swallowed by the raging fire.
 
Julian's eyes were bloodshot. Facing my agonizing screams, his gaze held nothing but pure, unadulterated hatred:
 
"If you hadn't gone mad with jealousy and locked the door from the inside, Celine would never have died! Stop playing the victim!"
 
"The pain she suffered before she died... I'm going to make you pay for it ten times, a hundred times over!"
 
In the blazing light, he watched coldly as I was burned alive, turning into a charred corpse.
 
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the exact moment the fire started to spread.

My fiancé accused me of not caring about family.
To appease him, I planned a family vacation.
But the night before we left, he informed me that he'd given my first-class seat to his childhood sweetheart.
And me? He stuck me in coach on a flight flagged for possible terror threats.
Everyone in his family thought I should just go along with it.
That was the moment I woke up.
I tore up the itinerary and booked myself a trip to Hawaii instead.
Then I turned off my phone and let them sweat over the hotel bill.
It wasn't until their reservation got canceled that they finally started to panic.

Will a man learn to love me if I’m good to him long enough?

I tried for seven years to warm his heart.
I thought if I just held on a little longer, he’d finally see me.
Because I loved him so deeply.

But what did I get in return?
His endless tenderness for another woman.
I pretended I didn’t care, until pneumonia landed me in the hospital.

On the day I was discharged, I found him standing there with our daughter, his whole world focused on caring for that woman.
Even my daughter, whom I’d raised with everything I had, wished that woman was her mother.

In that moment, my heart died completely.

I left the divorce papers, gave up custody, and walked back into the chemical industry.
So what if seven years of marriage had worn me down?
I was still the top genius in my field.

But the divorce I’d wanted so badly never went through.
The man who once couldn’t have been colder to me now held on to me tighter than ever.
Our daughter refused to leave my side.

When he found my divorce papers,
the always cold and arrogant man pushed me against the wall and growled:

“Divorce? You’re mine. For life.”

I remember that frost-covered train door like it was the last thing I ever saw. Because it was.
The escape spot I’d spent three years scraping together? My fiancée was sitting in it, wearing my parka. Her brother had my hiking boots on his feet. Her mother clutched the medical kit I’d carried six miles through ash-covered roads. And Caleb Frost—the ex she’d sworn was just “someone from the past”—stood in the seat that should have been mine, lifting my silver emergency flask in a toast.
While I froze out in the subzero ash storm, my lungs burning like they were filled with shards of broken glass, they turned their backs to me under the warm yellow light inside.
Then I woke up.
The calendar read May 3, 2041. Exactly one year before the Yellowstone chain eruption would turn the northern hemisphere into a frozen grave.
On the TV, experts were still downplaying the volcanic tremors, insisting there was no immediate risk to the public. My fiancée walked into the bedroom wearing one of my white shirts, carrying coffee in the blue mug she’d bought with my card. She reached for my forehead, asking if I’d had a bad dream.
None of them know I’ve already died once.
They’re still plotting how to make me pay for her brother’s failed investments, how to sneak texts to her old boyfriend, how to use me as their most obedient, most useful doormat until the world ends. I’ve sold the downtown office towers, mortgaged the lakefront house, bought the abandoned geothermal station no one wanted in the dead mountains, and signed a stack of engineering contracts they’ll never bother to read.
They still smile and thank me, tell me I’m the best fiancé in the world.
They have no idea who will be holding the key to the door, when the sky goes dark forever and the snow never stops falling.

To please his mistress, Callum ordered me—pregnant—to dance barefoot in the black salt ice cellar.

When I stumbled back to the doorway to warm myself, the mistress covered her mouth and retched.

"I'm pregnant. I can't stand this death-stench of winter."

Only because I was a princess of the Winter Realm, born carrying frost in my veins.

Callum flew into a rage and had me locked inside a frost-crystal cage, sunk to the bottom of the ice well. No one was allowed to release me without his command.

"A princess of winter, afraid of the cold? What a joke!"

No matter how I struggled or begged, he couldn't have cared less. He and his mistress treated it as entertainment. And just like that, I froze to death at the bottom of that well.

What he didn't know was that although we winter-born are forged in bitter cold, when we carry a child, every drop of magic goes to protecting the baby. We have no defense left for ourselves. The very ice that shaped us becomes the thing that kills us.

Two days later, he was finally satisfied and ordered them to pull me up.

But I could never come back up again.

They called me the kingdom’s light.

They worshipped me… until they decided I was a threat.

On the night I was meant to become queen, my sister smiled as she betrayed me.

My fiancé watched as I was condemned.

And then he threw me into the abyss. They thought I died.

But something down there was waiting for me. Now I’m back. Not as a princess.

Not as a saint. But as something far worse. I wear a servant’s face. I bow my head.

I play their game. And the man who killed me? He can’t stop watching me.

Touching me. Wanting me. If he discovers who I am, he’ll destroy me again.
But this time… I’ll destroy him first.

My fiancé betrayed me and left me at the altar. So I made a deal with the one man he hates most—his uncle, Tyson.

Tyson Wilson is powerful, charming, and dangerously ambitious. He needed a contract bride. I needed a ladder to reach my mother’s dreams.

A contract is all it was supposed to be… until the lines between paper and reality start blurring.

Now my ex-fiancé, Alex, needs me back. But I have bigger problems—lies, corporate wars, hidden agendas, and secrets people are willing to kill for.

And somehow, I’m at the center of it all.
My contract husband keeps pushing my boundaries, testing every rule we set.
But it’s just a contract.

…Right?

I'm an OB-GYN. On Valentine's Day, I pulled a ring out of a woman's vagina.

It turned out to be my husband's wedding ring.

An hour before, he'd texted me. Said he loved me. Said he was too busy with work to come home.

I wanted a divorce. Needed one. But then I found out—our marriage was never registered.

In his manor, I was nothing. Just a fake wife.

He grabbed me by the throat—right in front of his mistress. Called me "damaged goods." Said I'd spent a year in another man's house.

But that year, I went as a hostage in his place.

I ran. Made it to the cliff's edge, covered in blood. And the man who saved me? The mafia godfather who'd held me captive that whole year.

He looked at me. "Marry me."

Fourteen years. I guarded every line on the East Coast for Victoria's crime family. Six weeks. A young newcomer took away every ounce of my authority. Victoria said, "There's no need to be so sensitive." I understood her choice. I took off my ring in the council chamber, and walked away.

"Only one life jacket left!" a crewman shouted as the cruise ship sank.
My husband, Captain Harrison, looked torn between me—his pregnant wife—and Emma, his first love.
Last time, he gave me the jacket, intending to die with Emma. But he survived, and she drowned. To avenge her, he smothered our newborn. "You stole her life," he snarled. I killed him for my baby, bleeding out beside him.
Waking to the deafening sirens, I realize I’ve been reborn. This time, who will get that final life jacket?

I caught my husband sleeping with my sister, so I burned it all down.
The fire burned fierce, swallowing that abandoned cabin in the woods, along with my shattered marriage.
With the stench of gasoline still lingering on my fingertips, I thought I had finally buried the man who betrayed me.
Until the next morning, when he walked through the front door without a single scratch.
My mind reeled.
If he was still alive... then who the hell did I burn to a crisp last night?

The last thing I did before I died was lick dew off a rusted pipe.
Ninety days earlier, my fiancé Bastien promised he'd come back for me. He said three months in the Sahara would teach me not to be jealous of Posey—the girl I'd pulled from a refugee camp and raised as my own sister.
He didn't know the water ran out in the first week. He didn't know bandits broke my bones. He didn't care enough to find out.
While I lay dying on a rotting bed with a shattered leg, he was in Manhattan, sliding a pink diamond onto Posey's finger.
I died alone. But I didn't stay gone.
My soul followed a stolen necklace across the ocean, right back to his penthouse—just in time for the engagement party, the champagne toast, and the moment my body arrived at the door.

She was supposed to walk down the aisle in white.

Instead, Sophia Hart was left standing alone in front of three hundred guests while her groom, billionaire Alexander Blackwood, announced he was leaving her for her best friend.

Humiliated, heartbroken, and burning with rage, Sophia vanished that night with five million dollars mysteriously wired into her account and a single note: This is your freedom. Use it.

For three years, she disappeared into Paris, remade into the cool, untouchable Elise Moreau under the ruthless guidance of a mentor who knew Alexander’s cruelty all too well. She learned power, seduction, and how to ruin a man without ever raising her voice.

Now she’s back in New York, a stranger to the world that once watched her fall. No one recognizes the poised Frenchwoman who walks into the room and turns every head.

Especially not Alexander.

Old sparks still burn between them, hotter and darker than before. Stolen glances across crowded ballrooms.

A brush of fingers that lingers too long. Late-night encounters in empty offices where walls echo with heavy breaths and whispered names.

He wants her.

She lets him think he can have her.

But every touch, every kiss, every fevered moment against cool glass or silk sheets is on her terms and every second brings him closer to losing everything he thought was his.

But revenge isn’t cold. It’s hot, slow, and very, very personal.

This time, she’s not the bride he left.
She’s the woman who’ll bring him to his knees.

"Ssshh. You made me cum twice already. I’m not leaving you untouched. I want to taste you, suck you, feel every inch of you deep inside me.”

“Fuck,” Valtor growled, a deep velvety rumble that sent a pulse of heat throbbing through my wet pussy. “Who the hell taught you to talk like that?”

No one. I never dirty-talked with Kallias. These words came purely after the fire Valtor ignited in me.


I was the happiest woman alive until my husband and my maid betrayed me in one night.

Now I am no longer the good Luna they once expected me to be, but a wounded woman burning with vengeance. I am willing to give anything, do anything, even if it means striking a dangerous bargain with Valtor North, the handsome Rogue King whose reputation makes every Alpha tremble in fear.

But fate made its twist again. An unexpected mad attraction rose between me and the man I should hate, the sworn enemy of my kind. The Rogue King.

Torn between duty and desire, I face the ultimate battle. Can I survive the storm or will it consume me whole?

"Everyone in Cedar Hollow can tell you exactly what I did. I just can't."

Twelve years ago, Vanessa Dalton walked out of Larkspur Quarry alone, covered in her best friend Jo Calloway's blood. Jo's body was never found. Vanessa never remembered what happened. The evidence disappeared with the storm, but the town reached its own verdict long ago: she was guilty.

Now a renowned forensic genealogist who solves decades-old cold cases using DNA, Vanessa is forced to return home when her dying mother leaves her no choice. She's spent years helping strangers uncover the truth, while refusing to investigate the one mystery that destroyed her own life.

Sheriff Scott Bradley wants her gone. His father ruined his career trying to prove Vanessa murdered Jo, and Scott inherited both the badge and the hatred. But when someone steals a hidden box of evidence from the Calloway case, and Vanessa begins remembering fragments that contradict everything Cedar Hollow believes, a second car at the quarry, another voice calling her name, and Jo alive long after the moment she was supposed to have died, they're forced into an uneasy alliance.

As Vanessa and Scott reopen the town's darkest secret, every new clue exposes another lie. Someone has spent twelve years protecting the truth, and they'll kill to keep it buried.

Because Jo Calloway wasn't the only person who disappeared that night.

I gave up MIT for them in my last life.
They paid me back by stealing my lab notes, framing me for misconduct, and choosing her over me when I drowned.
I watched them choose her over me a hundred times
Now I’m 17 again. I block all three and fly to MIT.
They think I’m throwing a tantrum.
Wait till they find out who saved them out of that cave—

After being lost for ten years, I was finally brought home by my biological parents.
They stood in the cramped basement and asked me, "The family went bankrupt a month ago. You won't hold it against us for being poor, will you?"
Overcome with emotion, I hugged them tightly and shook my head fervently.
Later, my father was diagnosed with uremia and needed a large sum of money for surgery. To earn money, I worked three jobs a day, eventually collapsing from exhaustion and being diagnosed with a brain tumor. With no time for treatment, I rushed to deliver food orders.
Unexpectedly, I ran into my father—who should have been in the hospital undergoing dialysis—having booked an entire shopping mall to celebrate the adopted daughter's birthday. My mother, wearing an gorgeous gown I'd never seen before, smiled as she embraced the girl.
"Lily, our precious, Mommy and Daddy will give you everything you want."
My brother, who they said had died in an accident while searching for me, was dotingly putting a diamond necklace on the girl.
It turned out the family hadn't gone bankrupt at all—I just wasn't worthy.

For six years, I was her driver, her errand boy, and her servant.
On the night of her engagement, she said, "He's just my driver."
Her fiancé ruined my company.
I sold my shares, changed my phone number, and bought a one-way ticket.
She chased me to the airport and asked me why.
I said, "Because I don't want to,"
"Waiting for someone who will never look back at me."

My biggest regret? Trusting my husband with my mother's life.

The day the mudslide hit, I was on my knees. Begging him to send a helicopter.

He told me to wait. Twenty minutes. But when the helicopter came, it went for his adoptive sister Vivian instead.

I held my mother in the ruins. Her body was shutting down. I waited. Waited until she went cold in my arms.

When he finally showed up at the hospital, the first thing he said? Accused me of faking it. Said I just wanted attention.

In that moment, my heart died too.

Later, I found out Vivian wasn't even sick.

She said "I don't feel well"—that's all it took. And he left my mother and me to die.

Called me a lunatic. In front of everyone. All for her.

I was ready to leave. For good. Then someone shattered my mother's ashes.

I made 17 calls for help. My sister answered every one—and hung up.

For 48 hours, I lay dying in Pine Ridge Forest, texting desperate pleas to my family. They thought I ran away. The truth? My sister deleted every message while I begged for my life.

Three months dead. Zero funeral. My family didn't even notice I was gone.

Now the police have recovered my phone. Every deleted text. Every ignored call. Every lie my sister told to cover up what she did.

"Please. I can't feel my legs. I'm sorry I exist. Just don't let me die here."

They wanted me invisible. I gave them what they wanted.

Now they'll spend the rest of their lives wishing they'd answered when I called.

In my last life, I fell for every word out of Ryan's mouth.
To save his shot at attending physician, I volunteered to take the fall for his medical malpractice case.
My license was revoked. I went from being a surgeon to being a housewife trapped in his family's home, wasting ten years of my life chained to a kitchen stove.
I thought my sacrifice would earn me his gratitude for the rest of our lives.
Turns out, he'd been sleeping with that doe-eyed little nurse, Lily, for God knows how long.
When years of exhaustion finally caught up with me and my heart gave out, I collapsed on the freezing basement floor.
My husband Ryan was upstairs, arms wrapped around Lily, sleeping in the master bedroom we'd bought with my dowry.
"That bitch is finally kicking the bucket. Once she croaks, this house is ours."

"I think it would be nice to show the public my mate."
For the first time, I looked at Alpha Bronson, hoping I had heard him right.
Was he trying to accept me?
"Come with me, dear mate..." The moment he took my hand, I felt the necessary spark and he withdrew almost immediately. "Take the lead." He said pushing his hands behind him.
Something in me knew it was a bad idea to follow him to the podium where the induction would take place, but I had no choice but to follow him.
"Get on the stage!" he ordered and I did as he told me.
It was clear that no one was interested in seeing me, and many even spat on the floor because they thought I irritated them.
"Pack members, look what the Moon Goddess has given me as a mate." Although his tone was laced with hate, I didn't know what he was going to do next.
"What do you think I'm going to do to her?"
The crowd roared to life.
"Reject her!"
"Send her away!"
"She's a disgrace!"
I wished I had never come. I wished I could disappear.
"Well, no matter what you all say, I still have the final decision to make. That's why..." He turned to look at me with a smile. "I, Alpha Bronson Stormbreaker, leader of the Ember Moon Pack, reject you as my mate." I felt the bond that had been created spark after the break as the entire crowd screamed with joy.
"You really thought I would accept a murderer to be my Luna?"
I couldn't hear any more. It was more torture to my skin than the pain I felt when the captain of the guard used the whip on me.
How did the Moon Goddess choose to ruin me so much with such a person.

He escaped being a deceased and was saved by a girl at the brink of death, three years later he’s back to protect this girl and revenge on those that made him who he is.

Read now to find out about Avon’s journey.

"This marriage cannot happen," Coty's voice rang through the hall.
"She's pregnant with someone else's child."
"I hate her too much to ever share a bed with her," Damien said coldly.
"Then who is the father?"
"The child is mine."
Ryker Stones—the dreaded Alpha of the Silvercrest Pack.
Damien's uncle.
Her fiancé's blood.
And her father's sworn enemy.
Jenna Spears, the legitimate daughter of the Alpha of the Crescent Moon Pack, never wanted to marry Damien Stones. But she is forced into a ruthless alliance marriage arranged by their fathers.
One week before the wedding, she catches Damien in bed with her stepsister, Coty—and he cruelly rejects their mate bond without remorse.
Broken, humiliated, and drunk, Jenna spends one reckless night with a stranger.
What she never expects is to carry his child.
Determined to protect the pack's reputation, her father insists the wedding go on. But on the day she's meant to become Damien's Luna, Coty exposes her pregnancy in front of everyone—out of spite.
Just as Jenna is condemned, the stranger steps forward to claim his pup.
What happens when she discovers that her one-night stand is none other than Ryker Stones, the feared Alpha of the Silvercrest Pack—her fiancé's uncle and the man her father has sworn to destroy?

What do you do when your husband betrays you and calls you worthless? I broke the bond, and made him watch as I became the Queen to four far better men.
"No matter who I take to this bed, you'll stay. Because without me, Evelynn, you are nothing."
My husband's words were a razor to my heart. For years, I was the perfect Luna. But every string has a snapping point.
"I reject you," I whispered, shattering the bond that defined my life. "Irrevocably. From this breath, I am nothing to you."
I thought I was free. Finally free.
But sweet freedom ended the second four wolves found me. Calder. Maddox. Jaxon. Rafe. My wolf howls for them. My body betrays me. And I don't know how long I can resist.
I ran from one Alpha only to be claimed by four. And this time, I'm not just a mate, I'm their Queen.
And they only have one word for me: "Ours."

I thought I was a powerless human in a school full of witches, heirs, and monsters.
Until a black magician tried to kill me.
Until my blood awakened.
Until the boy with phoenix fire knelt bleeding in my arms—and I brought him back from death.
Now everyone wants my secret.
And someone wants me dead.

The child I brought into this world through sheer determination now calls my husband's mistress "mother"; the youth who slew my father for my sake and was imprisoned, now confines me beyond the threshold, forcing me to hear his carnal symphony with his stepmother. Only then did I comprehend: the sixteen-year-old boy who committed patricide for me had long perished within the prison walls.

"What is the ultimate favoritism your partner gives you?"
On the third day after the IVF procedure, I came across this trending question on a werewolf forum.
Just as I was about to scroll past, a highly upvoted answer pierced straight through my eyes.
"I'm newly pregnant with the Alpha's cub, so I can answer this question."
"The favoritism is this: even though I’m not his official mate, he lied to the one at home—claiming she’s infertile due to health issues—just so I could conceive."
"He said: 'A human body is like a broken vessel. Only a strong she-wolf like me deserves to carry his cubs.'"
In the photo, the ruby necklace that belonged exclusively to me was hanging around her neck.
Trembling, I finished reading every word.
So this was his idea of a beautiful future—sowing his seeds in his lieutenant's bed.
So the agony of egg retrieval I endured was, in his eyes, nothing but the useless struggle of a broken vessel.
I laughed until tears fell.
Back then, I defied my father and even cut ties with my family just to marry this stray wolf.
"Ella, sooner or later, you’ll come crying back, begging for our forgiveness."
Now, it turns out I really have failed.
I pulled the IV needle from the back of my hand and dialed the number I’d blocked five years ago.
"In three days, I will return to the Hunters' Legion."

On the way to the hospital to deliver my baby, rain was coming down in sheets.
Suddenly, my husband slammed on the brakes. He'd spotted his ex-girlfriend standing in the downpour with her child.
"She's struggling as a single mom. I'm just going to help her carry those groceries upstairs. Ten minutes, tops."
Clutching my belly through the contractions, I begged him, "But I'm about to give birth. I'm in so much pain."
He just locked the car doors with a click, his voice sharp with annoyance.
"Sarah, can you try to be a little more empathetic? She's soaking wet."
In those ten minutes, my water broke. Desperate to survive, blood on my hands, I crawled out through the back hatch.
While I was fighting for my life in the ER—
His ex posted a snapshot.
In the video, my husband was gently toweling off her hair. The caption read:
[So glad you're here.]

Eight years ago, I was the heir to a powerful dynasty—the man set to inherit an empire.

On the way home from a business deal, our convoy was ambushed and I was taken. My fiancée arrived with the ransom, and the kidnappers gave her a choice: save one man. She saved my closest friend—and left me bleeding in the ruins.

They thought I was dead. They went on camera, announced my “tragic death,” took my company, split my legacy, and lived on my name for eight long years.

But I didn’t die. A gray-zone mercenary unit pulled me out of a pile of bodies. I changed my name and climbed from the bottom of their world—training, bleeding, killing, leading—until I became one of their commanders.

Today, my fiancée is marrying my best friend. The invitation arrived with my name on it. I board a first-class flight under a new identity and head straight for their wedding.

Halfway through the ceremony, the priest asks if anyone objects.

I stand up. “I object.”

I didn’t come back to give my blessing. I came back to collect.

Betrayed and killed by the wolf king in my past life, I came back from hell. On the wedding day, I turned down his proposal without hesitation. I made a blood pact with his greatest enemy—the vampire king. Together, we avenged my child and family, and built a new future in the dark.

With a contract, she was forcibly dragged into the conflicts of a wealthy family. She was like a bound servant, obeying their orders again and again. For her sister’s sake, she endured it, yet she still wanted to fight back. After living under the same roof day and night, she realized she had slowly begun to develop feelings for him. When love and hatred became intertwined, in the end, she chose to run away.

"Give birth to my child, then get out."

With those words, Sean’s kiss fell brutally, ripping Susan’s nightgown open.

His fingers pressed against her clitoris. Sean flipped her over, pinning her under him. His swollen, turgid member quickly found her secret path. He thrust in violently.

Susan broke into a cold sweat. Sean nipped her ear. "Does it feel good? Is this what you like? I’ll make you pregnant, but you can’t stay by my side—this position is reserved for Victoria."

——

Years ago, Susan saved Sean and earned the chance to marry him. But she was damaged in that accident and couldn't conceive. She took countless hormone injections, losing her figure and becoming ugly. Finally, she could get pregnant, only to catch Sean cheating with the young, hot Victoria.

"In that case," Susan said, "let’s divorce."

Susan was bloated and had been a housewife for three years with no skills. Yet, she chose to divorce, even though she couldn't take her own child with her...

For my fiancée’s career, I was willing to be the ghost designer behind her for five years.

Until the day of the key bid, she stole the blueprint I had spent two sleepless years perfecting and signed it with the name of her useless first love.

The drawings are gone You can draw them again He needs this project to survive Be sensible she said, impatient when I confronted her

I did not argue My heart went cold I calmly left my engagement ring and my resignation letter and went to Europe

In just three months, without me, she became disgraced and buried in debt While I won Europe’s highest architectural gold award

I watched the once proud her soak in icy water for five hours just to earn a trace of my sympathy

I handed her a basic junior interview form with indifference Want to start over Report to the front desk Start with errands and work your way up

My husband's first love was in trouble.
When the news came, I was lying on the operating table.
Dr. Miller put down his scalpel and said to Dr. Johnson, "I'll leave my wife's surgery to you."

"If I don’t go now, I might regret it for the rest of my life."

With that, he turned and walked away.
Watching my husband's retreating figure, I couldn't hold back—tears fell.
The next second, the cold blade of a scalpel touched my skin.

Dr. Johnson spoke calmly, "Why the tears? With me here, you'll be fine."

Married for five years, my husband, Reid, constantly played the poverty card. He’d blame crashing company revenues, claiming we couldn't even afford to upgrade to a house with a small yard. His favorite excuse was that we had to subsidize his chronically ill, adopted sister, Vivienne.
Yet, he frequently went out late at night, his phone practically glued to his hand. I suspected he was having an affair, but I couldn't find a single shred of evidence.
So, for our fifth anniversary, I gifted him a custom leather belt with a micro-GPS tracker hidden inside.
At 2:00 AM, the tracker pinned him at a private suburban farm—while he claimed to be pulling an all-nighter at the office.
Furious, I drove out to the middle of nowhere, my head full of scenarios where I’d catch him in bed with another woman. But when I arrived, the entire farm was locked down by the police.
A grim-faced detective stopped me and asked coldly, "Ma'am, are you the family of the deceased?"

For five years of marriage, Sibel devoted herself completely to her husband and son, even giving up her own career for their family.
Then she was rushed to the hospital with acute cholecystitis, writhing in pain. Her husband arrived with their son, only to walk right past her and rush to the woman he cherished most, his adopted sister.
"She’s terminally ill. You should take care of her," her husband said.
Her son added, "You’re only Mom because you cook and do housework."
In that moment, Sibel realized that her five years of sacrifice had been nothing but a joke.
She filed for divorce, walked away with nothing, and returned to the world of medical research. But just as she was ready to start over, she was framed, thrown into detention, and nearly left to die in a pool of blood.
Everyone thought Sibel was nothing without a man.
But when she returned as a world class medical expert, when the truth was finally exposed, and when the man who once treated her like she was worthless knelt before her with red eyes full of regret...
She looked down at him and said,
"You once said I wasn't good enough for you. Now you're not good enough for me."

I was once the supreme ruler of the global underworld, stepping down from my throne just to cook hot meals for my daughter. Yet, my arrogant brother-in-law mistook my silence for weakness. He smashed my home, tried to hand my wife over to a Mafia Don for his own career, and even stole my Black-Gold Skull Coin as a tribute!
Fine. You want to play? I'll grant your wish.
With a single keystroke, I initiated the DEFCON-1 combat protocol. Instantly, one hundred thousand of the world’s most elite mercenaries went berserk, locking down the entirety of New York City!

At a dinner party in a Long Island mansion, my wife, desperate to latch onto a newly minted venture-capital darling, let our five-year-old son smash the gift I’d brought in front of everyone—then waved the keys to a luxury car and made him call another man “Daddy.” With icy arrogance, she slapped a divorce agreement on the table, convinced that a bottom-tier nobody like me would be unable to even put food on the table once I was gone. I didn’t argue. I left only four words—“As you wish”—and walked out in silence.

What she didn’t know was that the business empire she was so proud of stood behind a moat I had built with my own hands, from the shadows. What she knew even less was that the Wall Street titan she tried to cling to in her moment of desperation… was the ex-husband she had always tried to avoid.

When the mirage finally collapsed—when debts buried her and she was dragged down into the mud—she went mad searching for me. In the midst of a blizzard, my ex-wife, dressed in rags, knelt in Times Square, sobbing and begging me to come home. I only raised the window of my Maybach, calm and expressionless, and drove off without looking back—toward a shore she would never reach. Love that comes too late is worth nothing.