1483 Book(s) Related to joy of life

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."

Yes, I jumped from that rooftop. Wind screaming in my ears as I fell, thinking it might finally earn me one fucking tear from them. Instead, all I got was "she's so dramatic."
Now I'm staring at fifteen-year-old skin in the mirror. Downstairs, their fake voices call my name—identical to that "welcome home" afternoon three years ago.
Yvette rushes to hug me, sugar-sweet venom dripping from her lips: "Remember who the princess is." I give her the same plastic smile right back.
I hear the voice in my head crystal clear: This time, I'm not fighting for their love—I'm taking back the life that was always mine.

I swear, I hate my husband.

At my birthday party, my husband whispered to his mistress in French that he missed her. His voice was low, but I heard it all—the black lingerie, the bit about how pregnancy makes you more sensitive. His French clients around us were laughing. He turned and put his arm around me, claiming he was just helping his clients come up with sweet nothings.

He doesn't know I understand every single word. Just like he doesn't know that inside my body, I'm carrying his other surprise. And his mistress—she's pregnant too. Two wombs, one secret.

Confrontation would be too cheap. Tears are worthless. I quietly started cataloging the hidden networks my father left behind, activating the Swiss accounts.

In seven days, Zoey Smith will cease to exist. And what will my husband's reaction be?

I clutched the diagnosis paper that read "Stage 4 Gastric Cancer," my knuckles turning white. For twenty-two years, no matter how bad things got, Ethan always said he could handle it. But this time, my call only reached his voicemail.

I still remember that snowy night when I was seventeen. Under that tree, he squeezed my hand and promised, "You don't have to be strong anymore. Just lean on me." He said he'd marry me once he became successful, vowed to protect me for a lifetime. I believed him—believed him so much that today I drove frantically to his recording studio, desperate to tell him about my diagnosis.

But the scene through the cracked door shattered every hope I had. The sight of him entangled with Victoria hurt worse than any diagnosis. Later, when he handed me divorce papers, I coughed blood into my tissue, and he didn't even glance my way.

How did the man who promised to protect me forever become the one pushing me into the abyss? I'm dying, and even my last shred of hope is being crushed. Is this really how it ends?

I'm crouched on this fucking balcony clutching a pregnancy test, hands shaking like a leaf—two blazing red lines staring me in the face. I was such a goddamn fool thinking I'd tell Remy about our baby tonight. What a sick joke!
The banquet hall's roaring below and there's that bastard on stage, arm wrapped around Olivia, shouting "This winery has NO future without her!" Each word slams into me like a sledgehammer. TEN FUCKING YEARS! When he was drowning in debt, I sold every piece of Mom's jewelry to save his ass!
Then the son of a bitch hurls a box of abortion pills at me like I'm garbage: "Kill it, or Olivia's daddy pulls his money."
I'm glaring at that box and it hits me—ten years of my life pissed away on this piece of shit, and now even the innocent baby growing inside me is worth less than his blood money! I gave him everything and he's ready to murder our child for a fucking check!

I’ve had the Sight for as long as I can remember.
Born into a matrilineal line of Salem witches, I can pierce the veil of the dead. I see the wandering souls and the lingering traces of magic left behind in the mortal world.
I always assumed this gift was nothing more than my own harmless little secret.
Until the night of our fifth wedding anniversary.
I lit the final taper candle on the long dining table. As the flame flickered, my Sight instinctively slipped open, my gaze drifting toward the deep shadows by the fireplace.
A spirit was huddled there in the dark.
It was my husband—Silas Blackwood.
Ice flooded my veins. What the hell is going on? Is Silas... dead?!
My hands shook as I fumbled for my phone, stumbling back in a frantic rush to dial his number.
But before my thumb could hit the call button—before my lips could even form the words of a banishing spell—
Click.
The front door opened.
Silas strode in, bringing the damp, fresh scent of the rain with him.
"Sorry I'm late, Evie."
My breath caught. If Silas was dead... then who the hell was standing right in front of me, wearing his skin?

When I woke up in that hospital bed, legs wrapped in casts and burning like hell, everything came flooding back. This time, I wasn't the naive fool I'd been before.
Tyler, my brother Ryan, and that bitch Savannah—they destroyed me. Turned a gymnastics prodigy into a cripple.
Tyler had the nerve to grab my hand, begging me to forgive Savannah for ruining my legs. My brother chose outsiders over me, screaming about "family reputation."
Fuck their love. Fuck family.
This time around, I've got evidence of the $1.2 million they owe me. I know all their dirty secrets. Round two has started, and I'm done being their victim.
Those three bastards are going to pay back every damn cent they stole from me.

I was six years old when Mom took my brother and me by the hand, leading us into a mansion that looked like a palace. She told us this was our new beginning, after all the hardships we'd been through. But no one warned me that this so-called better life would mean giving up everything I had.

My scholarships, my prom dress, even my Stanford acceptance letter—they all turned into bargaining chips just to keep my stepfather and his daughter Sienna happy. Then, the night before my wedding, they even asked my fiancé to "temporarily" give himself to her as well.

I've always been the one giving everything, pouring myself out until there's nothing left, yet I've never heard the words, "You're enough." If love means endless sacrifice, why am I never the one on the receiving end?

Maybe only when I vanish completely will they remember my name—for the first and last time.

The day our parents remarried, my entire life descended into unrelenting hell.
Jace, my stepbrother, hated me on sight the second he walked through the front door.
Like a relentless ghost that haunted my every waking moment, he stole every girl I ever cared about, one by one.
I hated him for seven long years, convinced he only got off on grinding me into the dirt. Until that drugged night at the hotel...

Bryan and I had been together for a year.

He was gentle, thoughtful. I had no reason not to trust him.

Until the night the typhoon hit.

He called. He said he, his mother, and his brother's family were outside my door, soaking wet. They just needed somewhere to stay for the night.

I walked to the door.

My hand reached for the doorknob.

That's when I saw her in the hallway mirror.

My future self.

Covered in blood. Clothes shredded.

She was screaming at me. "Don't open the door! They'll kill you!"

I am Seraphine Marchwood. For five years, I gave every piece of myself to Alpha Veyron, convinced our mate bond was fated—until the night I accidentally overheard the truth.
He never wanted me as his mate. The entire proposed bond was nothing but a cover, a farce to hide his scandalous affair with Ophelia, the woman he actually loved. She was carrying his pup, and I was just the disposable, respectable shield to keep his reputation untarnished.
I ran that night, blind with grief and rage, until I crashed through the rotting beams of an old, rain-soaked ruin. The last thing I remembered before blacking out was the taste of blood in my mouth, and the sound of his voice calling my name, too late.
When I woke up, I didn’t recognize him.
And for the first time since I’d known him, he looked terrified. The cold, unshakable Alpha who’d cast me aside without a second thought was panicking, desperate, scrambling to bring back the version of me that had loved him more than anything—even as a new, unforeseen path began to unfurl before me.

I once believed fleeing my engagement would set me free, only to fall headlong into a web of betrayal spun by my closest friend and faithless lover.

Now, granted a second life just a week before that fateful wedding, I stand before the man I betrayed—Alexander Stone, the unyielding soul who ended his life in my previous existence, all because of me.

This time, I've sworn to mend what I shattered. But as I reach out to him, his voice cuts like ice: "You don't need to know me. This marriage is purely transactional."

Yet if he's as indifferent as he claims, why did he linger by my hospital bed for two sleepless nights? Why do his eyes flicker with a devastation that could unravel worlds, and why does he shudder at my touch, whispering, "Are you afraid of me?"

As the shadows of old betrayals creep back, will I pierce his frozen mask to safeguard this fragile love reborn? And that haunting whisper in my mind—"Alexander Stone died because of you"—does it seal a destiny I can't escape?

I once believed that every click of Ryan's Leica shutter was proof of his love—a luxury villa, his exclusive muse—I was foolish enough to believe in this fairy tale. Until our engagement night, when Isabella appeared wearing an identical ring, and the media exposed his betrayal, I finally realized I was nothing but a carefully selected stand-in.

Have you ever spent three years of your youth living as someone else's shadow? When he held her and called me "just a cheap copy," I didn't break down. After all, isn't it more satisfying to turn the tables using the camera sounds he was so obsessed with, making him pay for his sins in his own madness? In this game of deception disguised as love, who really played whom?

The five of us were dragged into a twisted nightmare.
The game rules were absolute: Kill the Boss. All members survive. Total escape.
Luckily, we each spawned into the game with a supernatural perk.
Relying on our powers and our bond, we spent six grueling hours tearing the massive, horrific beast apart.
All we had to do was step into the extraction portal to wake up in Oregon.
My friends were screaming in victory, already planning our celebration at Voodoo Doughnuts.
Instead, I was frozen. My heart wasn't racing with adrenaline anymore; it was cold. Absolute zero.
Because my real perk tracked the Boss status.
Floating in the center of my vision, cutting through the shadows, were two lines of text that only I could see:BOSS STATUS: ALIVE.DISGUISED. The monster wasn't dead. It was standing right here, wearing the face of one of my best friends!

I put up with my husband's cheating because I needed money for my brother's medical bills.

Until I found the heart donor report he'd been hiding in his study for three months. 98% match. He'd signed it "postpone."

That night, fireworks filled the London sky, his mistress laughing in the background. Standing over my brother's body, I finally got it—he'd been killing my brother all along.

I ripped up his check, sold every piece of jewelry he'd ever given me, and threw the divorce papers in his face.

"Murderer"—that's all I said.

Three years later, I'm getting a standing ovation at the Golden Hall. He shows up in the snow, eyes red, begging for forgiveness.

I just smiled. "Charles, you died three years ago."

At my engagement dinner, my fiancé asked me to sign the prenup that killed me once before.

Last time, Adrian smiled, kissed my hand, and promised I would never be alone again. Three weeks later, debt collectors came for money I had never borrowed, black veins crawled under my skin, and his dying mother walked out of hospice in pearls.

This time, I turned to the second page first.

My name was already printed there.

Beside it was a date that had not happened yet.

Under it was another bride’s name.

A woman declared dead twenty-three years ago.

I once thought marriage was redemption.

I hid that I was a billionaire heiress, threw on an apron and played the perfect housewife. For three years, I pawned my jewelry to bail him out, stayed up all night fixing his business proposals, only for him to parade his mistress around our house.

She wore my limited-edition cashmere sweater, smashed my expensive china, his mother called me worthless for not popping out kids, and he called me cheap trash he couldn't stand anymore.

Fifty thousand dollars—that's what he thought three years of my life was worth.

When I got pregnant, I thought things would change, only to get shoved down the stairs and lose everything.

While I was still bleeding in that hospital bed, he forced me to sign divorce papers, threatening to destroy me completely.

In the La Perla private room, he made me crawl like a dog, trying to pimp me out to some random guy.

He had no idea I wasn't just hiding my identity—I was hiding my claws.

My name is Ivy, and I’m 18. My best friend’s father, Sebastian Blackwood, a Harvard law professor, is mature, cold, and authoritative. He’s been the centerpiece of every fantasy I’ve had since puberty.

Those nights, I toss and turn under the covers, imagining his fingers slipping into my wet, hot va*na, imagining his cok thrusting into me hard, driving me to the edge of climax.

I know it’s wrong. He’s off-limits.

But every time he looks at me, those deep, piercing eyes seem to strip away my clothes, staring straight at my most secret places. My heart races out of control, my body burns with heat.

I don’t want to just be his “good girl.”

I want to be claimed by him, completely, destructively.

During this 30-day seaside vacation, I’ll make him see that I’m no longer a little girl.

My body is wet for him, my soul burns for him.

Sebastian, will you resist, or will you pin me down and fu*k me hard?

On my due date, my mate Kael locked me in the Frost Vault.
House Veyron's Hatching Law was absolute: the first dragon egg to break shell inherits the entire Emberscale empire. My sister-in-law Celine and I were both due to deliver—our egg dates only one day apart. To ensure his brother Roman's posthumous egg hatched first, Kael made his choice.
"Roman and Celine's egg must break shell first. You owe them that!" He ignored my ruptured water, ignored the agony of the egg already pressing into my birth canal, and shoved me into that dungeon built from ancient ice-dragon bones.
Then they injected me with Frostbind Serum—an ice-magic drug that freezes the life-bond between a mother dragon and her egg. I curled up on the frozen floor carved with suppression runes, feeling my child's pulse fade beat by beat, and wept.
My baby, I'm so sorry... I can't even protect you...

"Clyde, no—stop this right now. I only came to your class because Aaron recommended you to help me learn motorcycle riding for my job, not to get into something like this." On the open training field, as I struggled to balance the bike and keep it steady, my husband's old college roommate Clyde climbed on behind me to "correct" my form, his hands boldly cupping my large, soft breasts through my fitted top. The real problem hit when I felt his massive bulge pressing insistently against my backside, hard and unyielding, as he leaned in too close under the guise of instruction.

My husband and I've been married for three years, and he's been messing around with her the entire time.

Hugging and kissing her on set, whispering flirty lines in interviews.

Everyone online calls me a pathetic stand-in.

I never get mad. I just smile and help him smooth over every rumor.

That is, until I accidentally got pregnant and secretly had an abortion.

He was furious, his heart shattered, demanding to know why.

I cupped his face and said calmly: "Because I don't love you."

The one I truly love is his dead brother.

I had been married for seven years, thinking I had the perfect family.

Until Christmas Eve, when I saw a delivery order for apartment 702. The note read: severe mango allergy.

My husband's allergy. The one that could kill him.

I flew downstairs and pounded on the door.

My husband opened it. The same man who was supposed to be "out of town on business."

A pregnant woman appeared behind him.

And my six-year-old son stood behind her, glaring at me with cold eyes:

"Make her leave, Mom. She's crazy."

My world shattered.

My husband sent me to a clinic to erase my "attachment distress" toward him and our daughter.

He said I was too obsessive, too clingy, that my love was suffocating him. So the day I found he'd booked three tickets to Zurich—one for himself, one for our daughter, one for another woman—I signed the consent form.

He said the treatment was temporary. That once I was "better," we'd still be a family.

Three months later, I walked out of that clinic. I remembered the white roses at our wedding. I remembered sitting up all night with our daughter when she had a fever. I remembered every time he'd told me he loved me. All those memories were still there, as clear as if they'd happened yesterday.

But when he stood before me holding flowers, eyes red, asking why I wouldn't fight anymore, why I wouldn't cry, why I didn't love him anymore—I could only tell him calmly:

I remember loving you.

That feeling, though? It's really gone.

He thought he was erasing my pain. He had no idea what he'd actually erased.

My daughter helped my husband cheat.

My ten-year-old begged me to take her to a summer camp in Italy. My husband looked at her like she hung the moon. Booked the tickets right there.

I thought I was the luckiest mom alive.

Then I checked the pet camera from overseas.

There he was, fucking my daughter's riding instructor on our couch.

But what really killed me? What he said, "Don't worry. Nina wants that horse bad enough, she'll keep her mom in Europe as long as we need."

Back home, my husband dropped a receipt. Two identical limited edition watches.

He froze. My sweet daughter didn't miss a beat, "Dad used the other one to bribe someone so I could get my horse!"

They lied in perfect sync. That's when something in me broke.

They thought I was still that stupid, trusting wife.

What they didn't know?

I'd already signed a contract. Going back to my art career in New York.

Look, I'd heard the rumors: Skyward International's flight attendants? You never see 'em anywhere but the airport. Not once. Kinda spooky, but my coworker drops this smirk—"First time? You'll get it"—and I'm boarding Flight 6108, heart pounding.

This chief stewardess, Tiffany? Stunning. Locks eyes, buckles me in, perfume hits like a drug. Later, service cart rolls up. "Airsick? C'mon." Door shuts in the crew lounge. Boom—she's on her knees. "Relaxation service." Zipper down, wipes me clean, then swallows my cock whole. Balls-deep, tongue on my sack, cheeks sucking vacuum. "Big one," she whispers, eyes pleading like she needs my okay.

My name is Charles Cole, a blind lactation therapist.
Of course, apart from pretending to be blind, all my skills are genuine.
Ophelia sat on the bed and slowly took off her top right in front of me, her beautiful figure revealing its spring allure under the golden warm sunlight.
“Mr. Cole, let's begin!”
I nodded, reaching forward with both hands, yet I didn't dare show the slightest unusual expression on my face.
The reason was simple: Ophelia's husband, Russell, was standing coldly right behind me at that moment.

I gave five years to my husband's ambition—and got betrayal in return.

Forty-three days without a break on the Imperial City project. I collapsed from exhaustion and woke up in the hospital. He never picked up the phone.

He was too busy celebrating his mistress's birthday.

The blonde hair wrapped around his jacket was like a slap to the face. I'd cut my own hair short years ago because he said long hair wasn't "professional." He just meant it wasn't professional on me.

He promised we'd move to Imperial City together once he succeeded. But he was always too busy—except when it came to touring my project sites with her.

I'd had enough.

I froze the accounts. Pulled the funding. Took back everything I'd built.

He tried to push me out of my own position, so I reclaimed the patents and withdrew my support.

He called a press conference to save face. I attended—as an executive at his largest competitor.

I watched him crumble.

For five years, I held him up. And for five years, he treated me like something disposable.

He forgot that the empire he thought he built was never his.

It was always mine.

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!"

She's pregnant with my brother's baby. And if he doesn't marry her, I will.


It was Austin’s turn to seething with rage. “You are not aborting that child.” His voice echoed menacingly, animosity lingering in the air around them.

My body, my rules.” She shot back with an unbothered shrug.

“I don’t think you have much of a choice.” He barked. The idea of marriage and children had never crossed his mind. It wasn’t a part of his life plan. “I’d chain you to a bed for the entire nine months if I have too.”

She blinked, stupefied that he thought himself capable. “I think you forget who you are speaking too, Austin.” She pronounced his name with disgust. “You cannot scare or manipulate me into following along with your ideas.” Marriage? To Austin Demon Cyner? Now that was a delusion. “A stupid one at that.” She added, eyeing him meticulously.

“Marry me, Skylar. It’s a win-win; a marriage of convenience.” He’d cleared his throat and was taking long strides towards her. Suddenly the room felt too small to contain the sheer size of him.

“I severely dislike you, though. What am I winning exactly?” her feet were traveling backwards, unwilling to have her standing up too close to him.

“A stable home for your child,” the sound of his shoes tapping rhythmically in her ear “Our child.” He added on quickly, his voice low, compelling her to agree.

“I don’t recall you being in the room when it was made.”


Check out another story in the same collection: His Tempting Captive

SEQUEL TO OUR VOWS DON'T MEAN A THING

Mia Evans is trapped in a loveless marriage to her husband Gabriel Evans. All opportunities for her to put her cheating husband in the past had flown out the window the moment she had delivered her baby.

Harvey Regal finds it difficult to hold onto one relationship. His parents had the perfect ending and his pursuits for that very feeling and commitment have left him unsatisfied and bored.

"I'm sorry, Ava, but you can no longer be my mate because you are not up to my level. You are now just a mere human," Caleb said, which made Ava extremely angry.

"After all the sacrifices I have made? My brother gave his life for you! I became a mere human because of you! It's the sacrifice I made! I had to lose my hybrid powers in order to break your curse, and after all that, you reject me?" Ava said, tears streaming down her face.

"Well, that's how you see it!" Alpha Caleb responded before walking away.

If you were in Ava's shoes, what would you do? Not sure? Let's dive in and see what Ava did!

"Are you accepting?' he probed, his eyes brazenly following every line in her body. Ivory instantly grew shy. Her nerve waning.

"I am considering it. However, I am not sure what it entails." her voice and bravado had weakened. Raiden nodded at her words, understanding that he was previously vague.

"It's not a relationship. As I have pointed out to you before, I am attracted to you and wish to explore a purely physical relationship, albeit temporarily," he said, eyeing her every reaction.

"You mean purely sexual?' she corrected him. She knew the words he used were aimed at sugar-coating the reality but she wasn't interested in half-truths when she was considering going against everything she believed in. Raiden nodded. "How long is it to persist?" The more she considered the option the riskier it seemed. She worked closely with Raiden, would this make their relationship awkward?

"It's terminable at the will of either party," he commented. He wasn't in the habit of forcing a woman to be with him, in fact, it was something he made no great strides over. She had complete freedom to stay or leave his bed.

"Another way of saying when you've grown tired of me." she laughed incredulously.

Riley
New name, new look, new life. I've been careful to keep my past at bay. The last thing I needed was the stranger with those calm discerning eyes to cross my path. I must avoid him at all costs, even if he haunts my dreams and sends waves of heat across my skin. My focus is survival, not lust. Not even if he ignited a longing I'd never thought possible.

Draven
A mission. Find the missing girls and bring the perpetrator to justice. The retributive kind. I've grown used to the shadows but I am drawn to her light. Moth to a flame, the only way to quell my curiosity is to satiate it. But not too much. Not completely.

TEASER:
You want me, don’t you?” A simple question that warranted a simple answer.
“Should I have had you checked for a head injury?” he scoffed, a swift blow that knocked the wind out of my lungs and I realised I had been holding my breath. My lips parted, and my chest heaved, working overtime to replenish my body’s oxygen from those few moments of starvation.
Steeling my spine, I stepped forward, invading his space, oblivious to the eyes that were thrown our way. Or was I imagining that? Draven didn’t budge, a perfectly shaped brow elevated as he considered my movement with little interest. There wasn’t a single flicker of emotion to cross his features, not even that Godforsaken misleading smile made an appearance.
“Then you’ve no reason to threaten any man I may find interesting.” I breathed the words slowly, erotically.

"This is insane," l mutter to myself, "What does he take me for? A predator? A pervert? God, it's sick."
Yes, she's technically an adult, but the twenty-year age gap makes my skin crawl. How does my father expect me to wake up next to someone barely out of high school and call her my wife?
He is unbelievable. No- ridiculous. That's the better word to describe him. What sane person finds a nineteen-year-old bride for their thirty-nine-year-old son?


Miles wasn't a predator, and he sure as hell wasn't about to marry someone two decades younger than him.
But his father wouldn't back down, and losing the company wasn't an option. So, he reluctantly agreed. He would marry the shy, damaged girl who had survived the worst at the hands of her step-family.
He made himself a promise: he wouldn't touch her. He would protect her, not become another perverted man she'd have to fear.
What he didn't expect was how hard that promise would be to keep. She was undeniably beautiful- soft curves in all the right places, her presence igniting desires he thought he could suppress.
Suddenly, Miles found himself fighting not just his morals, but his erection. But she was his wife. He could touch her, right?

When the apocalypse struck, my brother Leo didn't hesitate to choose the offshore sanctuary.
In our past life, faced with a choice between a powerful inland warlord commanding a massive army and a leader clinging to a solitary island, Leo snatched up the first option.
But when a zombie horde overran the mainland and defenses collapsed, he fled to my island for refuge.
Jealous of how well I was surviving the end of the world, he and our parents knocked me unconscious in the dead of night and threw me into the ocean to drown.
Now that I've been reborn, Leo immediately took our parents to the maritime base, leaving the "dangerous" mainland to me.
He thinks the ocean is a natural barrier that guarantees his safety, that he can sit back and relax while the world burns.
But there's one thing he doesn't know.
Zombies aren't just static, mindless walking dead—they evolve.
And when they do, that offshore sanctuary will become a floating hell with no way out.

“You were never meant for him,” his voice was a dark promise, his fingers tilting my chin up. “You were meant for me.”

Elara spent her entire life as a human outsider in a world ruled by supernatural beings. When she discovers that she is the fated mate of Rael, the ruthless and possessive heir to the supernatural elite, she is thrust into a dangerous world of power, blood, and betrayal. Bound to him by an unbreakable force, she struggles to resist the pull of their connection.
But Rael isn’t the only one who wants her.
There’s another—Kian, a rebel in the shadows, a man who stands against everything Rael represents. Mysterious, defiant, and fiercely protective, he offers her a different kind of freedom. A choice. A love that isn’t bound by fate but by desire.
With war brewing between the supernatural elite and the rebellion, Elara is caught between two powerful men—one who claims her by destiny and one who challenges her to defy it.
But in a world where love can be a weapon, and loyalty is a dangerous game, the real question isn’t who she will choose.
It’s whether she will survive long enough to make that choice.

Stella Blake is a new graduate police woman who is given a task to investigate a high but hidden club where all rich and illegal people come together to make business. To find out more information, Stella entered as a stripper.

However, Stella did not expect her name to be famous and known in that club. Many fluent people want to get her. One of those was Mr. Arthur Sandoval, a known mafia leader, head of a syndicate and the owner of that club.

Stella agrees to be Arthur’s mistress to find out their secret transaction and gather enough evidence to catch them.

But in the days that Stella was with Arthur, her feelings for him are growing. Despite his bad work, he respects and values her.

Arthur fell in love with Stella but when he read the background report that was made, his view of the woman changed. He found out that Stella was a police officer and was just pretending to be a stripper to catch them.

Is there any hope for their evolving love?

After 18 years of enslavement, Seraphina is rescued by a Prince, her Prince, her fated lover. She learns that, not only is she Heiress to the Kingdom, she also has a dragon familiar. She is the first Dragon Dhampir. Seraphina truly thought her life of pain and sorrow was finally over only to learn that, her Prince has a sordid past and a bastard child on the way and the child’s mother is hellbent on destroying Seraphina and all she holds dear.
After finally finding a family, her dream wedding in sight and another happy surprise on the way, her seemingly picturesque life will come crashing down around her in a fit of flames and fury but, will she rise from the flames like a phoenix or will she burn with all that she loves?

Fantasy/Vampire/Shapeshifter/Romance/Dhampir/Dragon/18+

"I, Ella Brown, hereby sever my ties with the Silver Crest pack."
The words felt heavy on her heart, but she knew it had to be done. As tears streamed down her face, she knelt down, crying bitterly as she made one final, heartbreaking declaration.
"I, Ella Brown, reject you, Alpha Derek of the Moonstone Pack, as my mate."


"Ella Brown," Derek whispered, his voice full of shock.
"Mate," Lila, her wolf, whispered within her, the bond between them sparking to life once more.
"Ella, what are you doing here?" Derek asked, his grip tightening on her arms. "I've searched everywhere for you."
Ella quickly regained her composure, pulling away from him. "I'm in a hurry, Derek," she muttered, attempting to sidestep him.
"Ella, don't leave," Derek pleaded, his voice breaking slightly.
"You are my mate," he growled, his voice blending with his wolf's. "You're not leaving me again."


Ella's fury ignited. "Alpha Derek," she spat, her voice trembling with barely contained anger. "I am not your mate anymore. Control your damn wolf."
Ella Brown’s life was supposed to change for the better when she turned 18—gaining her wolf and preparing for her engagement to Alpha Kevin Taylor. But everything shatters when she catches Kevin with her stepsister, Sandra, the night before the ceremony. Heartbroken, she flees into the night, only to stumble upon her fated mate, the powerful Alpha Derek of the Moonstone pack. Their irresistible bond leads to a night of passion, but Derek coldly rejects her the next morning.At the engagement party, Kevin twists the truth, publicly humiliating Ella. Alone and betrayed by both alphas, she discovers she’s pregnant and flees her pack. Years later, as a renowned healer in the north, Ella is sought after by desperate packs suffering from a deadly plague. But when Derek shows up at her doorstep, demanding her help and refusing to let go of the bond he once rejected, Ella must decide—will she heal his people or make him suffer the way he made her?Can Ella protect her heart from the mate who broke it, or will Derek reclaim what he believes is rightfully his?

What do you do when you fall in love with the man who hurt your best friend?
Her plan was simple: seduce the scumbag who shattered her best friend's heart, make him crawl, and then ruin him. It was supposed to be a cold, calculated game.
Enter Jason: the campus heartthrob, the future Alpha heir, and—according to Lysa's intel—the target. She played the innocent girl, lured him into her trap, and waited for the perfect moment to strike. She thought she was the cat and he was the mouse.
She didn't know she was hunting a predator who had already claimed her as his Fated Mate.
Now, an Alpha knows his human Mate only approached him to destroy him. And he wants her back anyway.
"The game ends when I say it ends, Lysa. Not when you decide you're bored. When. I. Say."

Amara Morgan, a fiercely independent and enigmatic woman, finds herself irresistibly drawn to the dark allure of Ethan Blackwood, the brooding alpha of the Silverwood pack. Little does she know that Ethan harbors a secret, one that could either ignite their passion or tear them apart forever.

As their connection deepens, Amara uncovers a dark prophecy that foretells the awakening of an ancient power. Suddenly, she becomes the linchpin in a battle between werewolves, witches, and an unspeakable evil. With her heart torn between love and duty, Amara must embrace her own hidden abilities to save her soulmate and their forbidden love.

But secrets have a way of revealing themselves, and the truth threatens to unravel everything Amara holds dear. Betrayal lurks in every shadow, and allies become enemies as the battle for Silverwood intensifies. Can Amara and Ethan defy fate and break the ancient curse that binds them? Or will their love succumb to the forces of darkness?

When Lyca ran away, she ended up in the forest, where everyone was afraid and avoided going. This is the Mystic Forest, which is said to be the den of the son of darkness, A scary monster.
But Lyca immediately removed this story from her mind when encountering the 'sons of darkness.
The image she saw was mesmerizing, a perfect face that seemed to have been sculpted by a sculptor. Its eyes are as blue as the ocean, matched by a prominent nose and red lips. And the most exciting part is that Lyca doesn't see only one with the perfect image, but seven!
But the legend is true because behind those beautiful appearances hides a fierce creature—and it's too late for Lyca because their leader has already entrapped her.

In a tale woven with friendship and heartbreak, Melissa and Lydia, two university freshmen who had been inseparable for over eleven years, find themselves facing unforeseen and tragic circumstances. Eager to explore the realms of romance, their innocent quest for true love takes a dark and twisted turn as they stumble upon secrets that were meant to remain buried. The shocking revelation leads to a horrific event—the untimely death of Lydia—leaving Melissa reeling under the weight of grief and devastation.

The loss of her lifelong friend not only shatters Melissa’s world but also draws her family into a web of sorrow and despair. As she grapples with the pain of betrayal and heartache, the shocking truth about Lydia's killer emerges—a person so entwined in Melissa’s life that she could never have anticipated their role in this tragedy. This revelation plunges her into a perilous situation that nearly claims her own life, forcing Melissa to confront the haunting question: what could love truly be when it comes hand in hand with such profound suffering?

Captivating smile

5ft, 6inches tall, a willowy build and gorgeous translucent skin

Janice Sketches was a well-known matchmaker that could solve any problem within seconds. She finds matches to those unable to and was very skilled at it.

But, she hadn't found her perfect match.

Jules Forrest, also known as the devil for being a ruthless CEO.

He only engaged in a nightstand and didn't believe true love existed.

However, his principle changed when he met the stunning woman that shared his bed after a night at his brother's wedding.

Lara Parker has one rule: never expect good things during the holidays. Her luck is so bad it should be studied. Still, she plans the perfect anniversary dinner, hoping just this one time, December will be kind. It isn’t.
Her boyfriend walks into the restaurant with another woman on his arm… and breaks her heart publicly. But across the room sits Killian Wilde, captain of the Northwind Icehawks—and an Alpha werewolf trying to unwind after a big win. When chaos erupts, one scent hits him harder than any check on the ice. Mate.
A spontaneous, spite-fueled kiss from Lara ignites a bond he’s spent his whole life searching for.
She thinks it’s a reckless moment.
He knows it’s fate.
Now Lara finds herself entangled with a man whose world is colder, wilder, and far more dangerous than she ever imagined and who’s determined to show her that the holidays aren’t cursed after all… not when she belongs to an Alpha who’d burn winter down for her.
Warm lights, cold ice, one irresistible Alpha.
This Christmas, her heart doesn’t stand a chance.

When Emilia Gray awakens from a three-year coma, she's forced to confront a dark and mysterious world she never knew existed. Bound to the powerful Valois family by a centuries-old blood oath, Emilia must navigate a treacherous landscape of supernatural politics and forbidden love.
As she's drawn deeper into the world of the Valois, Emilia finds herself torn between her growing feelings for the enigmatic Luca Valois and her desire for independence and self-discovery.
Will Emilia be able to claim her own power and forge her own destiny, or will the blood oath forever define her fate?"

*****Warning: this book contains mature content which may not be suitable for younger audience.

Elena Lockser didn't know who she was until she encounters Aiden Crook.

Aiden Crook never believes in a second chance at love until Elena walked through his office.

As soon as we stepped into the living room, I breathed out deeply and gazed at him.

"I meant, I want to go back to Renee, to my friend." I said.

"You are not going anywhere." He stated calmly as if afraid he would lose his temper anytime soon.

"You can't tell me to stay here. I don't know you. I don't know what you are. I don't know if I would be your next prey. Please just let me go in peace, please." I didn't realize I was crying until I tasted the saltiness of the tears.

"Shut up, I don't want to lose my temper here." He pinched the bridge of his nose, before exhaling slowly. His broad shoulder moved with each breath he took.

"Why are you detaining me here? Do you want to kill me? Who are you?"

"So many questions in a sentence." He tutted.

"Just tell me who you are and why are you keeping me here? I want to fucking know!"

Aiden stared at me with uncertainty before stepping towards me.

I scurried back, slamming into the door.

He pushed me to it violently and I winced in pain at the force. His eyes flickered from the blue it was to a golden yellow and a fang appeared in place of his canine.

I shrieked as he continued pressing his elbow in my neck.

"This is me, sweetness and you are fated to be with me don't forget that. You are to be my Luna!"