255 Book(s) Related to melissa mathews

In that luxury cruise ship fire that shocked the world, my husband Gordon Mercer—the ship's captain—pried open my bloodied fingers and fastened the last intact life vest onto his first love.
In my past life, he locked me inside the blazing cabin. First, the flames devoured me. Then, as the ship broke apart, the icy ocean swallowed me whole. I drowned in the depths.
When I opened my eyes again, I'd returned to that life-or-death moment—the ship about to sink, alarms tearing through the night.
Watching Gordon clutch that trembling woman in his arms, I didn't break down sobbing like before. I didn't beg.
Instead, I laughed coldly and threw the life vest at their feet.
"Since you two are so desperate to die together, go right ahead."

I downloaded a mysterious app that promised to "silence noisy neighbors for good." 
With one tap, I became the 48th and final voter—and the raging party upstairs went dead quiet.
Three days later, detectives told me the family upstairs had died in perfect silence.
And they found a sonic weapon hidden in my bedroom, registered only to me.
Outside the interrogation room, my neighbors watched me with knowing smiles. 
"Welcome to the jury," one whispered. "Your vote made it unanimous."
Now a new trial has begun on the app. A red number glows over my apartment.
This time, I'm the one being judged.

Experience love when it’s least expected with four full-length, heartwarming sweet romances in the One Night to Forever box set by USA TODAY Bestselling Author Melissa McClone.Fiancé for the Night: When a fake engagement spirals out of control, Cassandra fears losing her heart. Will she end the fake engagement, or could Troy be her perfect husband for life?The Wedding Lullaby: After an impromptu wedding that was just for fun, Laurel discovers she’s pregnant. Will she get the marriage and family she dreams of having with Brett?A Little Bit Engaged: A PR nightmare drags Cara into a fake engagement with A-list actor—and former crush—Brody. What will it take for her to survive the ruse with her heart intact?Love on the Slopes: The one person who can help her is the last person she’d ever trust…again. Can Ryland and Brynn overcome their painful pasts and make their dreams come true—together?With fake engagements, a surprise pregnancy, friendship to love, and hate to love storylines, these four novels will take you from San Francisco to Portland to Sun Valley. Treat yourself and find out how one night can lead to forever…

Visit the quaint coastal town of Indigo Bay where love is always in the air…From vacation romances to second chances, you’ll find sigh-worthy, small-town romance in this complete collection of Melissa McClone’s stories from the multi-author Indigo Bay Sweet Romance series. These four stories form their own miniseries, so find a cozy reading spot, and escape to Indigo Bay, South Carolina where happily ever afters are guaranteed. Also included is Jenny, the prequel to the rest of the books. This set includes:Jenny (prequel): Jenny Hanford never expects anything to happen the night she whimsically throws her requirements for true love into the ocean. Thirteen months later, however, she hears back from the man who found her bottle. Could he be her dream hero come to life?Sweet Holiday Wishes: Frequent deployments and training exercises kept Army Ranger Staff Sergeant Mitch Hamilton away from home, and he had no idea how taken for granted Lizzy felt until she asked him for a divorce. He'll do whatever It takes to save his marriage. But will it be enough?Sweet Beginnings: Josh Cooper's journey to sobriety inspires Hope Ryan to take charge of her own life. But as their relationship straddles the line between friendship and romance, can Hope and Josh find the strength to overcome their pasts and build a life together?Sweet Do-Over: When architect Marley Patterson turns down Von Ryan's marriage proposal, she realizes too late she made a huge mistake. She wants a second chance, but after breaking his heart once, will he give her a do-over?Sweet Yuletide: Two strangers end up how housesitting together over the holidays. A sprig of mistletoe makes Sheridan DeMarco and Mikey Patterson forget their plans to stay away from each other. But will their happily ever after get tossed out along with the discarded wrapping paper and tinsel?If you enjoy romance and beach reads, you’ll love these stories set in the quaint, coastal town of Indigo Bay!

Duty requires her to marry—but she’s having second thoughts.Princess Julianna dreams of marrying for love, but no one cares what she wants. The future of her kingdom—and countrywomen—depends on her arranged marriage. Too bad, her intended’s brother is the one who captures her interest with his good looks and sailing skills. She’ll just have to push aside her attraction and do what’s right for everyone else, if not herself…Prince Alejandro wants nothing more than to relinquish his title. He can’t wait for his older brother to marry and have a child. That is, until he meets the beautiful princess destined to be his country’s future queen. Julianna holds the key to his freedom, yet he recognizes a kindred spirit—someone trapped by the demands of being royalty—and finds her utterly irresistible.Knowing the royal wedding must occur for the sake of their countries doesn’t stop them from wanting to be together. A happy ending could be theirs if they are willing to accept the consequences of following their hearts. Will duty or love reign supreme?

One little public scandal—and now they’re engaged…sort of.When Cara O’Neal finds herself dragged into a PR nightmare with A-list actor—and former crush—Brody Simmons, a pretend engagement seems to be the only way to stop the madness. But she’s not an actress, and faking anything with Brody has epic failure written all over it. It’ll take nothing short of an Oscar-worthy performance to survive with her heart intact.Brody enjoys playing the role of Cara’s adoring fiancé way more than he should. Acting like he’s in love with the pretty bookworm isn’t exactly a chore. She’s always been a good friend, but he can imagine her as more, which complicates their charade. When the lines between make-believe and reality blur, can Cara and Brody turn their fake relationship into a true happily ever after?* Parts of this 51,000 word novel were previously published in a Kindle World novella called The Wedding Charade. *One Night to Forever series:Book 1: Fiancé for the NightBook 2: The Wedding LullabyBook 3: A Little Bit EngagedBook 4: Love on the Slopes

A little hope changes everything...Artist Hope Ryan dreams of seeing her artwork displayed in top galleries again, but a devastating betrayal left her unable to paint as she once did. Instead, she settles for creating unique items for tourists and wedding couples in her hometown. Although Hope longs for more, she refuses to venture outside her comfort zone, fearing the heartbreak and disappointment of failing again.Highly paid sportscaster Josh Cooper never overcame his bitterness after an injury on the football field sidelined him for good. Finding his solace in alcohol and women only made matters worse until he finally hit rock bottom. Now, he’s looking for redemption. When he’s asked to fly a wedding gown across the country for one of the victims of his wrongs, he doesn't hesitate.Arriving in Indigo Bay, Josh finds himself captivated by the artist creating the wedding favors. He knows exactly what he wants—Hope—even though she deserves someone better. Can Josh prove he’s more than a broken has-been? Or will he not only lose Hope but also lose himself?

The only thing more awkward than falling in love on national television, is having your heart broken in front of millions of viewers.When public school teacher Millie Kincaid signed up for the popular dating show, The Groom, falling in love was always a possibility. But then Jace proposes to someone else on the season finale, and her hurt and humiliation leave her desperate to escape the glare of Hollywood's spotlight...until a new reality TV show provides her a shot at money that her school desperately needs.Former star of The Groom, Jace Westfall, went from fan favorite to villain overnight. Hurting the sweet and shy Millie cost him everything: his reputation, his endorsements, and his heart. It was the last thing Jace wanted to do, but he had his reasons. Now on the verge of financial ruin, Jace finds himself left with no choice but to do another reality show.Neither expected to face each other again, but both need the money. As they race from country to country, trying to put the past behind them, it quickly becomes clear they have a real shot at the million dollar prize…and a second chance at love.But only if Millie and Jace can overcome the biggest obstacle that stands in their way: each other.

When the truck crashed into us on that rainy Boston night, I heard my dad's final scream: "The Winters found us!" The next time I opened my eyes, the doctor who saved me turned out to share that cursed last name—Julian Winters, son of my parents' killers.
He took me, the "amnesiac girl," into his family’s mansion. His fingers brushed my wound as he said, "I'll protect you." What he didn’t know was that I'd hidden the evidence of the Aetherium scandal—proof my parents died for—inside my collar. Every night, I played along with his tenderness, plotting to destroy his family. But when he turned against his fiancée to defend me, panic hit: Why is this heart, set on revenge, now aching for the son of my enemies?

When I got a second chance at life, the first thing I did was swap arranged marriages with my twin sister.
In our past life, she was pawned off to Daryl Forrester—the cold-blooded Prez of the Iron Riders Motorcycle Club. In all those suffocating years, he never once had her back in front of his crew.
His fragile adopted sister played the "blood debt" card daily, weaponizing her tears to hijack everything that rightfully belonged to my twin. My sister withered into a ghost on his turf. No status, no dignity, completely erased.
And me? I got hitched to a pretentious cellist who hated my rough edges. Eleven months later, we were done.
This time around, I took the MC deal. I hopped on my Harley, rode straight through a twenty-four-hour storm, and rolled up to his outlaw compound reeking of mud and motor oil.
His precious little saint pinched her nose in disgust at my scent.
She had no idea what was coming.
I don't cry. I don't swallow my pride. And I sure as hell wasn't going to stand at my own wedding and watch another woman shed pitiful tears about how "jealous" she is—
I grabbed the ruthless biker boss by the front of his leather cut, yanked him down to my level, and bit his lower lip until it bled, right in front of dozens of patched members.
Then, I followed it up with a brutal knee to his gut.

In the Dragon Empire, bloodline determined everything. Only a female capable of hatching royal-grade golden dragons could wear the crown.
In my past life, I was nothing but a Red Drake—bottom of the food chain, not even blessed with wings. Yet after marrying into the royal family, I miraculously hatched a pureblooded Golden Hatchling.
But when my husband Valerius ascended to the Dragon Throne, his first act as king was to rip out my dragon crystal with his bare claws.
My own son Draken then ordered my body hacked to pieces and fed to the Abyssal Carrion Wolf-Lions in the depths below.
All of this because my half-sister had faked a bloodline awakening, transforming herself overnight into a so-called "Sacred Crystal Dragon."
My cruel husband had looked down at me with utter contempt: "Without my noble genes, how could something like you possibly birth such a gifted golden pureblood? Your filthy swamp bloodline has no right to the Queen's throne."
My son's disgust cut even deeper: "I don't want a flightless cripple for a mother. You make me sick. Only someone as noble and beautiful as Seraphina deserves to be my mother—she'd never force me to practice boring magic like you did."
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back at the Empire's quinquennial Bonding Ceremony.
My husband wasted no time choosing my sister as his mate. My son, Draken, eagerly dove his soul into her womb, ready to be reborn.
But this time, what crawled out of that egg was a Blind Mud Runt.

Seven months pregnant, I watched the thugs Vivian hired drag us both into the warehouse.
I didn't fight for that phone. I let Vivian—Sean's ex, the woman he never stopped loving—make the call herself.
Because in my past life, I'd begged desperately for Sean to save me from this carefully orchestrated nightmare.
And he did come. He chose me over her.
Vivian was left behind. Raped. Tortured. Murdered—by the very men she'd paid to stage this.
Afterward, Sean said he didn't blame me. He took care of me through the entire pregnancy. Never missed a single appointment.
Then on the day I went into labor, he handed me over to another pack of monsters.
Everything Vivian endured—the gang rape, the abuse, the humiliation—became mine.
Before burning me alive, he threw our dead baby at my feet, his face twisted with rage:
"You wanted to survive, didn't you? This is the price. I'm going to make you feel everything Vivian felt. Not just you—this bastard that should never have existed."
Those months of tenderness were all an act. Carefully orchestrated torture designed to make my suffering absolute.
When I opened my eyes, I was back in that warehouse—watching Vivian's hired thugs hold up the phone, forcing us to choose who gets saved

Lizzy Hamilton wants to skip Christmas this year. Working as a nurse while holding her marriage to an Army Ranger together has drained her energy and joy. She’s a pro at caring for others, but she needs someone to look out for her, too. However, when her soon-to-be ex-husband, Mitch, asks if she’ll spend the holidays with him—just as friends—so he won’t be alone, she can’t say no because, other than his platoon, she’s the only family he has.Staff Sergeant Mitchell Hamilton wants only one Christmas gift—his wife. Frequent deployments and training exercises sent him away from home, and he had no idea how taken for granted Lizzy felt until she asked him for a divorce two months ago. Now his mission is to show his wife he’ll do anything to save their marriage. He only hopes his plan to win her back with a holiday vacation to Indigo Bay, a coastal resort town, works. He can’t—won’t—lose Lizzy forever.This is a short, sweet holiday romance set in the Indigo Bay world and can be read as a standalone.

The doctors gave me three days. And my husband Donald used that time to beg me to give my uterus to Hailey, the "sister" I'd rescued from the streets.
"Her need is greater," he said.
So I smiled and signed over the design empire I'd spent fifteen years building to the girl who once shivered in my doorway.
My daughter Flora curled in Hailey's lap. "I love Hailey Mommy best!"
I nodded. "Be good for Mommy Hailey."
My parents squeezed Hailey's hands. "Sometimes, she feels more like a daughter to us than you ever did."
Even Donald looked at me with soft eyes. "This is the Audrey I always hoped you could be."
Dying, I had finally become their perfect woman—quiet, generous, and uncomplaining.
With the clock ticking down, I stitched the final thread into a wedding gown. Let them have their perfect ending. They'll discover, when the last breath leaves my body, that some gifts are curses in disguise.
Was it a devoted wife's final sacrifice... or a dead woman's ultimate revenge? The answer will unravel in the silence after my heart stops.

The red carpet to Adrian Thorne's side was never paved with flowers. It was a killing floor, meticulously designed.
Two years. Nineteen wedding attempts. And every single one ended in blood.
The fifth attempt: brake failure on the bridal car. I spent three months in the ER with a shattered left arm.
The twelfth: botulism at the menu tasting. I had my stomach pumped and nearly asphyxiated on the table.
The eighteenth... that remains my waking nightmare. I fell down a marble staircase polished to a lethal shine, losing the child I never even got to hold.
Everyone called me the "Thorne Curse." For a long time, even I believed it—that bad luck was just etched into my bones.
Time and again, I crawled out of pools of my own blood. I did it for a decade-old promise of repayment. I did it for the man I had loved for ten years.
Then came the nineteenth attempt. A floral arch weighing hundreds of pounds collapsed during our vows, crushing me into the ICU.
Ribs snapped, organs bleeding, I fought for three days just to claw my way back to the living.
But the moment I woke, through the crack in the door, I heard Adrian’s voice.
"Mr. Thorne, that was too close. If Elinor had actually died..."
"I didn't have a choice." Adrian’s tone was so cold it felt foreign. "Her father died saving me. I’m shackled by that debt. But I love Serena. She is the only one I want to marry."
His voice dropped, lethal and precise. "To clear the path for Serena, I don’t care if I have to stage nineteen accidents or ruin Elinor beyond repair. I will do whatever it takes."
Lying there, staring at the map of scars on my body, something inside me finally shattered.
I realized my suffering wasn't a twisted joke of fate. It was a love letter to another woman—his devotion to her, carved into my very skin.
Since his "debt of honor" kept him from kicking me out, I decided to play the villain and cut the cord myself.

Seven years of marriage turned to ash the moment I discovered my husband had arranged for his sister-in-law to carry his dead brother's child—using his own sperm to continue the family bloodline.
Lorenzo Corvino—New York's most ruthless don—would drive three hours through a storm just to get me imported cherries. He held me at my mother's funeral, crying until dawn. He hospitalized a man for disrespecting me at a charity gala.
I thought I was the center of his world.
Until the private investigator's flash drive revealed the truth: Lorenzo at the clinic for Claudia's prenatal appointments, his hand on her pregnant belly, whispering "Marco would be so proud."
In the end, on the Corvino family's scale of priorities, continuing his dead brother's bloodline would always outweigh his infertile wife.
The night the yacht exploded, the New York sky burned red. The news reported the mafia don's wife had perished in the flames. He collapsed on the dock, clutching the charred wreckage, breaking down completely.
But he didn't know—
That "dead" woman was across the Atlantic on the Amalfi Coast, one hand on her seven-week baby bump, protecting the secret he'd never discover.
Seven months later, when he stepped into my new life and saw the infant with his deep brown eyes cradled in my arms—
This man who'd built an empire on violence and fear finally understood what he'd truly lost.
And I'll spend the rest of my life making sure he knows: some betrayals are so deep, even "I'm sorry" is more than he'll ever deserve.

I was hospitalized with a high fever, and my boyfriend stayed by my side 24/7.
The nurses all praised him as the "perfect boyfriend," and 5 million live stream viewers were green with envy.
He looked into the camera and poured his heart out: "She's my entire world. I could never leave her, not in this lifetime."
Tears streamed down my face as I felt like the luckiest woman alive.
Until 2 AM, when his phone buzzed with a message:
"Miss you 💋"
He thought I was fast asleep.
I wished I was just dreaming.

Noah, usually inseparable from his father, had spent the entire week insisting that only I take him camping. His declared mission: mastering "real survival skills"—a not-so-subtle jab at his dad's preference for cushy glamping.
Liam played along, hamming it up as he swung our son goodbye. But beneath the teasing jealousy, something felt off. He packed the trunk too fast. Checked the gas without being asked. Almost assembly-line efficiency.
And that line about a last-minute client flying in from Chicago? Didn't sound like bad luck. Sounded like an excuse.
All week, he never pushed back. Just quietly, almost eagerly, waited for us to leave.
I figured he wanted the house to himself: scotch, cigars, silence.
Then the call came—and I got it.
He hadn’t cleared the house for peace and quiet.
He’d cleared it for her.

I was once the most exquisite rose in New York's underworld.
Leander Castello's wife. The mafia godfather's treasured queen. The woman everyone envied.
I thought he would be my salvation, my forever.
Until he snapped me in half with his own hands and threw me into the filthiest pit like trash.
He said he needed to teach me what betrayal costs.
So I was handed over to the Mexican cartel boss, Carlos.
Six months later, when he kicked down that iron door, I was on my knees in a pool of blood, crawling toward his feet like a beaten dog.
I thought he was just another client.
I opened my mouth, revealing my shattered teeth, forcing sounds like grinding metal through vocal cords destroyed by industrial acid.
I mechanically unbuttoned my shirt, displaying the crisscrossing cigarette burns and brands covering my skin.
I knocked my forehead against his shoe, silently begging him not to use the hose on me today.
He stared at my mutilated right leg, at my vacant eyes, and finally understood—
That rose had rotted away on the cartel's operating table, along with our child.
What's left now is just a living corpse.

In the Faewild, pureblooded elves are born to rule. We wolves are nothing but savage beasts bred for war.
I was sent to the Elven Court as a hostage—a living pledge of my pack's surrender. For five years, I bled for King Othlan. Seven times I bore curses meant to kill him. Slaughtered countless horrors in his name.
All for the soul mark he promised me. The only thing that could mend what he'd broken in me.
But when I dragged myself back from the abyss, body shattered and poisoned, I found him binding that mark—the one meant for eternal mates—to another woman.
A pureblooded elf. Of course.
I swallowed the blood rising in my throat and crushed the dragon stone hidden in my palm.
He wanted me gone? I'd give him exactly that. Permanently.

"What gives a scarred freak like you the right to stand next to him?"
Four years ago, a brutal attack left a hideous burn scar across the left side of my face. Ever since, I've hidden behind a black mask, fading into the darkest corners of St. Oak High. I thought if I just stayed perfectly invisible, I could survive high school in peace.
Then Michael came back.
He's the President of Model UN, an Ivy-League-bound genius, and the golden boy everyone revolves around. And me? I’m just a damaged outcast too terrified to show my own face.
The harder I pushed him away, the closer he got.
But when a video from four years ago surfaces—showing him throwing a punch just to defend me—his flawless future is suddenly on the line. That's when I knew I couldn't hide in the shadows anymore.
This time, even if it means exposing my ugliest scars to the harsh light of day, I will do whatever it takes to protect him.

Ever since Her Majesty the Queen fell gravely ill, the entire dragon realm had been teetering on the brink of collapse.
In that precarious moment, it was I who held the throne together, heartbroken yet unyielding.
I depleted my magic without reservation to repair the realm's protective barriers, working through endless nights to brew life-sustaining elixirs for the Queen.
Yet when the Dragon Legion finally drove back the abyssal demons, what awaited me wasn't victory—it was a fatal blade.
My magic was shredded apart. The soul core in my chest was ripped out by a pair of familiar hands.
In my final moments, I saw the face of the one holding the knife.
My newly wedded husband, Drystan.
And beside him, pulled tight against his chest, was my half-sister Vespera.
"You're brilliant, Vespera." Drystan turned the faintly glowing core over in his palm. "A single forged love letter, and this fool willingly died defending our dying realm. Now even her core is mine."
Vespera nestled against him, emerald eyes glittering with greed. "Once you absorb this power, we'll return to the throne together. You'll still be the Empire's Crown Prince, and I'll wear the Crown Princess's coronet. As is only right."
Amid this sickening pledge of betrayal, I drew my last breath.
When I opened my eyes again, cold gray stone vaulting stared back at me.
I had returned to the day news of Drystan's death in battle reached the capital.
One glance toward the corner of the great hall told me everything.
That man stood there wearing a cold iron mask, posing as my dear sister Vespera's sworn personal knight.
You want to drain me dry? Steal my soul core?
Dream on.

"Aveline, a world without you means nothing to me."
The dragon's scalding blood splattered across my tombstone, melting the thick blanket of snow.
Five minutes ago, he had severed the crimson fox's head—vengeance for me.
I died at the hands of my most cherished companion, died in a carefully orchestrated betrayal. I'd wielded the full power of the Court to elevate that pitiful low-born wretch to godhood, only for him to join forces with my dear sister and plunge a blade into my heart from behind.
And the dragon war god I had scorned—the one I'd humiliated and treated as nothing more than a beast slave—defied imperial decree, razed an entire city, and severed his own life force. All for me.
I watched his dragonfire extinguish completely in the bitter cold. My soul reached out to embrace him, but passed through nothing but endless snow.
Until a blinding light pierced through my vision.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself staring up at the familiar domed ceiling of the Celestial Hall.
I had returned to three years ago, to the Binding Ceremony that sealed my fate.
Reborn into a second chance, those vermin who climbed to power on dragon bones will finally get the hell they deserve.

It was the kind of cold that seeped into your bones.
In my past life, I was locked in the abandoned freezer beneath St. Jude Preparatory Academy.
Outside the door stood my biological brother Spencer, along with Landon—my boyfriend of three years. And between them, wearing Landon's oversized football jacket, was my stepsister Lacey.
"Blythe, just admit you bullied me. Post an apology video to the whole school, and Spencer will let you out." Lacey's voice trembled, fake tears glistening at the corners of her eyes.
Spencer's voice cut through the metal door like ice:
"Blythe, you brought this on yourself. You've been terrorizing Lacey at school, pushed her to the edge. Maybe some time in there will teach you what decency looks like."
Landon's voice dripped with disappointment: "Jesus, Blythe. I thought I knew you. This isn't who you are."
I pounded on the iron door until my fists were raw, screaming until my voice gave out.
I told them the truth—that I never touched Lacey. That she was the one forcing girls to their knees in the bathroom. That she stole my exam. That every shred of "evidence" was manufactured.
No one believed me.
I froze to death in that sub-zero hellhole.
As the cold claimed me, staring at my blue-purple fingers, all I felt was pure, burning hate.
Then I opened my eyes again—back to the day it all began.

In my past life, I was a wild, pureblood witch who tamed my own nature for love, willingly playing the submissive, perfect Luna for my fated Alpha.
But to him, I was just a savage that "needed to be brought to heel." When enemy wolves ambushed us, he held my manipulative, magicless adopted sister tight, leaving me to be ripped apart.
When I opened my eyes, I had been thrust back in time to the day of our Mating Ceremony.
Staring at the white gown that symbolized nothing but my submission, I slapped a thirty-million-dollar price tag on my "fated mate" and sold him right to my sister.
Using a pureblood glamour, I sent her to the altar in my place. Then I hopped on my motorcycle and rode straight into forbidden territory—right into the arms of the ruthless, unhinged "Mad Wolf" Alpha. He didn't want an obedient pet; he wanted a lethal queen to rule the wild by his side.
That night, when my arrogant ex sealed the irreversible mate bond, lifted the bridal veil, and realized the woman eternally bound to his soul wasn't me...
The icy, untouchable Alpha who spent a lifetime trying to break me completely lost his damn mind.

After the catastrophic war between the four great races ended in ceasefire, the Supernatural Council established an ironclad law—the Pact of Heirs.
Every hundred years, a Mating Season would open, where eligible heirs would compete to determine who would rule the world for the next century.
In my previous life, I chose to marry the wolf prince Darius, desperate to escape my status as a black-feathered orphan in the eagle clan.
The wolf clan's rule was brutally simple: whoever bore the first child carrying the matrilineal eagle-eye bloodline would claim dominion over all. I gave Darius that child. My son secured his throne and granted him absolute power.
My sister Cecily—the chieftain's true daughter—had set her sights on the vampire heir, drawn by their ancient nobility and dark allure. She married into their clan willingly.
But vampire bonds were cold as death itself. Her human-adjacent body couldn't sustain their offspring. She lost her fertility and became a cautionary tale whispered at every gathering.
Twisted by jealousy and shame, she decided I was to blame for her failures. She drugged my wine at a feast, then hurled me off Storm Cliff while I was too weak to spread my wings.
As I plummeted toward the rocks, someone tried to catch me—Kade, the exiled wingless dragon, his dark-scaled hand reaching desperately from a ledge.
But above us, Cecily stood at the cliff's edge, smiling as she cut through the safety rope he'd thrown. I hit the stones and everything went black.
When I opened my eyes again, I could still feel the phantom warmth of Kade's hand and the venom in Cecily's smile.
But somehow, impossibly, I was back—returned to the very day the Mating Season began.
Through the one-way scrying glass at the Observation Altar, I looked down at the moonlit sacrificial platform below. Cecily was already there. And she wasn't alone.
She'd been reborn too. I was certain of it.
But she didn't know what I knew—that Darius was a monster to his lovers.
During the full moon, when the wolf took over completely, he'd killed more than one partner in his bed.

The agony of dragonfire tearing through my flesh still seared my memory.
But I had been reborn.
I touched my reflection. No scorch marks. No melted skin. My eighteen-year-old face stared back.
The door burst open. Zephyra swept in, her dragonfire pendant gleaming.
"Megan, don't be nervous." Her voice dripped honey-sweet. "Even if you can't sense dragonfire, the Dragon God won't judge you harshly."
My father's legitimate daughter. Pure dragonblood. The family's pride.
And me? The bastard. A half-blood who couldn't even conjure a spark.
"The prophecy bond isn't set in stone." Her hand landed on my shoulder, grip too tight. "If Lord Roran feels overwhelming, bond with a lower-tier knight. I'll support whatever you choose."
Support me? The word tasted like ash.
Roran was the empire's youngest Dragon Knight Commander. In my past life, I'd believed her lies and married him.
I thought it was salvation. Instead, I became his shield while he slept with Zephyra.
At Zephyra's ascension ceremony, when a wyvern lunged for her, he shoved me into the beast's path.
The wyvern's claws tore into my abdomen. My unborn child died inside me.
Then came the dragonfire.
Roran unleashed it to save Zephyra. The flames swallowed everything: the beast, me, and the dragon egg I'd carried for months.
Through the agony, I watched him scoop Zephyra up. "Save Zephyra! The child—"
My child was already ash. He mourned hers.
"If I hadn't been pregnant, Megan wouldn't be so jealous..." Zephyra whispered.
"If there's a next life, I'll make this right." Roran's hollow guilt.
Next life?
Your dragonfire burned my child alive. You let me bleed out. And now you want redemption?
Not a chance.

The day I found out Quinn Prescott had pulled strings to give away my Ivy League recommendation to some transfer student, I packed up everything he'd ever given me and dumped it on his doorstep.
The next day, I found that same box in the dumpster outside my building.
Quinn's face was twisted with irritation.
"Drop it. So what if we don't go to the same college? You can get a full ride anywhere on your own, but Paula can't even afford tuition without that recommendation letter."
He let out a cold laugh. "And if this actually blows up, I promise you—it won't be me walking away with regrets."
I pressed the UCL acceptance letter tighter against my back, looking at him one last time with perfect calm.
He looked exactly like he always did when he knew he'd already won—like the outcome wasn't even a question.
But Quinn, I don't need you either.
My one-way ticket to London was already booked. We never had to see each other again.

Three days after I died, the morgue called my husband Sebastian to collect my ashes.
He was kissing another woman when he hit speaker, his voice cold and dismissive: "She's dead? Cremate her. Don't call me again."
And just like that, my body was wheeled into the cremation chamber.
When he finally showed up to collect my remains, he smashed the urn on the floor and ground every fragment of my ashes into the tile with his shoe.
"Playing dead? What a pathetic stunt," he sneered. "Tell her the anniversary of my mother's death is coming up. She'd better show up at the cemetery on her knees, or even if she really is dead, I'll scatter her ashes in the sewer myself."
But he didn't know—I truly was dead.
My soul was bound to him, forced to drift at his side as he planned a lavish wedding with his adopted sister Claire—his mother's true killer.
By the time he discovered the truth and exposed Claire at the altar, I had already vanished.
He lost his mind, racing to the ocean to search for my ashes.
Never knowing that the remains he'd crushed like garbage under his shoe—the "fake ashes" he'd dismissed as part of my act—
Were all that was left of me.

When my boyfriend of three years won the student body presidency, I rented out the entire bar to celebrate. But when I came back with the cake, I heard deafening jeers from the private room.
"I bet ten grand I can get her to ditch the engagement her family arranged and elope with me before graduation."
"That uptight bookworm? Sweet-talk her a little and she's wrapped around your finger."
"Guess what would happen if she found out—even the money for my off-campus apartment with Marie came from her part-time jobs. Think she'd go ballistic?"
The cake box slipped from my hands. Cream splashed onto my white sneakers—the ones I'd worked three part-time jobs to afford, the ones he said he loved because I looked so "pure" in them.
Turns out what he loved wasn't my purity, but how cheap and controllable I was.
I didn't storm in and confront him. I simply turned around, stepped over the mess, and walked away.
Everyone seemed to forget—Calvin and I were never equals.
I am Athena Stavros, only heir to one of Europe's old money families.
And this three-year charade of being just another student was about to end.

Ice slammed through my veins.
My throat locked up, crushed by an invisible fist. My body convulsed violently, mouth gaping open and shut, but no air came.
Through blurring vision, I saw my polished stepbrother Damien standing there, watching his watch—counting down the seconds I had left.
And Sophie—that scholarship kid who used to sob over dead ants—stood holding the empty syringe, her smile twisted and ugly. "Don't worry, Charlotte. I'll take real good care of your Ivy spot and your boyfriend."
The darkness swallowed me whole.

I am Mandy Langley, 42 years old, CEO of Sterling International. In Manhattan's cutthroat business world, I'd earned the name "Ice Queen."
Five years divorced, my ex-husband's parting words still stung—he'd called me cold as stone, said I was nothing but a dictator even in bed.
He had no idea my frost was a facade, hiding an emptiness and a craving no one could touch.
I controlled billions in assets, yet I lay awake every night, consumed by a single thought: I wanted a man to make me let go, to force me to surrender completely.
That man walked into my office three years ago, and I'd been drowning ever since.
Allen Thorne, my chief assistant, 28 years old—too young, shamefully young, and yet I couldn't resist him.
A year ago, I discovered the truth: he was the CEO of Vortex Capital, my rival, planted here to destroy me.
I should've fired him on the spot. Instead, I kept him close, pretending it was to watch him, when really, I just couldn't let him go.
Dangerous, magnetic, ruthlessly in control—he was everything I shouldn't want. I never exposed him. I fell harder instead.
I buried this forbidden desire, but every day he was there, right in front of me, taunting me.
What was I supposed to do? Cut him loose—or let him claim me?

"Please—I can't—not like this—"
The Abyss was chaos. A masked stranger pressed against me from behind. The lace corset and thong weren't protection—they were an invitation.
His hand slid under my skirt, palm scorching against bare skin. The music was so loud no one could hear me.
Everything spiraled too fast.
The crowd shoved forward. I stumbled back—
Something thick and burning pushed inside me.
I went rigid.
My first time. In the middle of a crowd. With a man I couldn't see.
The mask covered his face. I didn't know his name. Didn't know what he looked like.
I didn't know if this was the worst mistake I'd ever made.
But I couldn't make myself pull away.

For five years, my crime boss husband made me take off my wedding ring nine times—all for his precious damsel in distress.
When we first married, he promised me: "From now on, you're my queen, the queen of New Orleans."
But whenever Odette came crying for help, he'd change his tune: "Mr. Laurent saved my life, Cordelia. I owe his family everything."
And like a fool, I believed him eight times.
Eight times I watched from the shadows as he took another woman to our favorite restaurants.
Eight times I explained to the crew that our "separation" was just giving each other space.
Eight times I watched her move into my bedroom, use my dishes, sleep in my bed.
All for a man who kept making me slip off my ring, then slide it back on, over and over again.
Until the ninth time, when he said he needed to provide sperm for her fertility treatment, and I offered to leave.
He still thinks this is just another temporary break, expecting me to come crawling back in a month like always.
He'll never know I've already booked my ticket out of here.

When the fourth victim from the Chicago arsonist landed on my brother's autopsy slab, I watched from above, a ghost trapped in the room.
As the city's star medical examiner, he recited his findings with detached precision. "Female, twenties. Evidence of controlled, prolonged burning prior to death." He had no idea he was cataloging my murder.
Three days earlier, in that same warehouse, I'd begged into my phone. His fiancée, Harper, held it for me, her smile a blend of sugar and venom. "Call him again, Ivy. Maybe he'll answer for his poor little sister this time?"
A click. Then, his voice.
"Julian, please—"
"Not now, Ivy. I'm choosing our wedding rings."
The dial tone pierced the air. Harper struck the match.
Now, in the morgue's fluorescent glare, I see the blood drain from his face. The report trembles in his hand. Every measurement, every scar—they all whisper my name.
Oh, Julian. With every incision, you were reading my last words.
The killer is right beside you, already in her white dress.

Three years since I married into the Hawthorne family, I had already lost two children.
And the one who decided whether my babies lived or died wasn't a doctor—it was a potted plant in the manor's living room: the Crimson Orchid.
In this family, if the petals withered and reeked after drinking the pregnancy blood, it was an unbreakable rule: the child had to go.
The first two times, all I could do was lose my children in despair under the anesthetic mask at some underground clinic.
To save my third pregnancy, I secretly went to a top medical center out of state for an amniocentesis.
The diagnosis, there in black and white, proved it: my baby was perfectly healthy and carried the purest family bloodline.
I thought I was safe this time. But when my finger blood dripped into the black soil again, the orchid once more oozed foul-smelling black water.
My in-laws crushed my medical report underfoot without mercy and had their people drag me toward the operating table.
I couldn't understand it: the scientific evidence clearly confirmed my child was healthy and pure-blooded.
Why did they insist on trusting a mutated, stinking flower and killing their own grandchildren over and over again?

Caspian kept me locked in the basement as a living blood bank.
This mafia don was also my husband. Ever since he discovered I could heal instantly, I became nothing more than a consumable—kept alive to sustain another woman.
That woman in the hospital bed was his stepmother in name, his forbidden obsession in reality—the desire he could never speak aloud.
Unable to claim her, he went mad. He tried to fill her dying body with my life.
When she was poisoned, he forced toxins down my throat to test antidotes, watching coldly as I convulsed on the floor, vomiting black blood.
When assassins came for her, he yanked me in front as a human shield, letting bullets turn my body into a sieve.
Covered in blood, I clutched his pant leg, begging through tears for him to just kill me.
But to protect his precious stepmother, he kicked me away without hesitation, his voice utterly cold: "Stop playing dead, Aria. You're a monster. You can't die anyway."
What he didn't know was that every time a mermaid heals, she burns through her soul's essence.
Through each shattering and mending, he was draining my very source of life.
Today, he strapped me to the operating table again, ready to drain more blood for his forbidden love.
He had no idea this would be the last time.

Three years ago, my pairs skating partner and I had a beautiful wedding surrounded by friends and family—but we never actually got around to signing the legal papers.
Over those three years, he has stood me up at City Hall exactly twenty-eight times.
One time, he stole my cab while I was burning up with a fever, leaving me shivering on the curb because his new, pampered protégée had a stomachache from drinking too much champagne.
Another time, he blew off our anniversary to rush to her side for a minor sprain.
Every single time we were supposed to finally make our marriage official, his precious junior skater somehow had a devastating emergency.
After twenty-eight broken promises, I finally stopped waiting. I dropped our partnership, shredded our application, and boarded a one-way flight to Milan.
But the moment I completely vanished from his life, the man who couldn't spare an hour to marry me suddenly lost his mind—chasing me across the globe to a city he swore he’d never return to, begging on his knees outside my door for a twenty-ninth chance.

In my past life, I was shoved into oncoming traffic by my husband's widowed cousin, Isabella.
"Why do you get the perfect husband and the Romano fortune? Go to hell!"
I died, and my unborn child died with me. Up until my last breath, I thought she killed me out of purely manic, bitter jealousy.
When I opened my eyes, I was back at that exact crosswalk, rewound to the second she was about to push me.
Only this time, I stepped aside.
And I finally learned the truth. She wasn't just an envious widow—she was my husband's secret lover. And the one who paid the million-dollar bounty for my murder to steal my mafia empire was the "flawless" man sleeping in my bed.

When Agnes, a human girl is sold off to Alpha Cyrus, as a slave by her stepfather, she has no idea that she would be his mate, rejected as his mate or that she is the reincarnation of his long-lost love.

Cyrus, a direct descendant of the first werewolves, has sealed off any form of romance since the death of his first love. However, he doesn't expect that his newly bought slave would be his mate.

As war breaks out between Ghysem and a rival pack, Cyrus is forced to confront his feelings for Agnes. Will he fight for the love of the girl he rejected, or allow history to repeat itself?

When the Tide Took Him — A Romantic Suspense Novel
Four years ago, on a fogchoked night in coastal Maine, Silas Ward vanished without a trace. The town moved on. The police closed the case. But Eveline Shore never stopped searching—or feeling the echo of the boy she once loved whispering, “Eve, I’ll always find you.”
When Eveline discovers a torn page from Silas’s notebook hidden inside the abandoned lighthouse—written in his unmistakable handwriting—everything she believed shatters. The message warns that she “wasn’t alone” the night he vanished…and that someone has been watching her ever since.
Determined to uncover the truth, Eveline is drawn into a dangerous web involving Silas’s best friend, Jonas, whose guilt and evasiveness suggest he knows far more than he’s willing to admit. And when a mysterious man named Rowan arrives—someone who knows Eveline’s name, her past, and the night Silas disappeared—the pieces begin to fall into place in the most terrifying way.
Silas didn’t vanish by accident.
He was taken.
And the person who pushed him off the cliffs that night wasn’t after him.
They were after her.
As Eveline uncovers the chilling truth and the secrets Silas died to protect, she realizes he survived the fall—not to save himself, but to keep her alive. Their longawaited reunion becomes a heartbreaking confrontation with betrayal, sacrifice, and the dangerous legacy she never knew she carried.
Set against the haunting backdrop of early2000s coastal Maine, When the Tide Took Him blends deep emotional romance with escalating mystery and suspense.
A story for readers who crave love that endures, secrets that haunt, and endings powerful enough to stay with them long after the final page.

In a world of Elementals, Fire and Ice must never meet; touching is forbidden… and deadly.
Asher Lauigne grew up in a home where everyone called him a monster and lived his whole life in fear of his fire powers. He has never felt true love or happiness, and when his parents finally got tired of him and dropped him off at an academy for freak kids like him, he thinks his life is over without realizing his journey has only begun. Xavi Vael is ice-cold, composed, and untouchable… yet intoxicating. He is tasked by the principal to befriend and manipulate Asher, but then finds himself intrigued and attracted to Asher despite knowing it’s forbidden. When fate forces them together at the academy, every stolen glance, every brush of skin ignites a forbidden desire neither can resist.
But lust has a price. Power, betrayal, and a deadly virus threaten to tear them apart. To survive, they must break every rule, defy every law, and surrender to the fire and frost consuming them.
One touch. One kiss. One sin that could destroy them or awaken a power the world has never seen.
Touch him, melt him… and risk it all.

"Put on the dress, Kim. If Kareen never comes back, you will remain as Mrs. Rodriguez till they wish to get rid of you!"
Kim was compelled to wed her twin sister's husband and found the kind of love she had always desired, but as with all good things, there was also suffering. Would she persevere in the face of overwhelming odds, or would she give up and forfeit everything she had ever loved?
Kim was supposed to be a pawn, but she ended up playing the game, and they became her pawns. Queens were free to move whenever they liked, right?
And then there was Evelyn, a broken woman with a dark past. A past she believed she had left behind until it smacked her in the face, leaving her with no way out—or did it?
Would she give in to her past and let it completely ruin her, or would she learn to overcome it and find happiness with the one man who was prepared to overlook her flaws and accept her for who she was? What transpired in Vegas ought to stay in Vegas, and the past ought to stay in the past, right?

"In the world of shadows, loyalty is bought, love is a weapon, and once the mafia claims you, you're ruined—body, soul, and everything you once believed in."

Enzo Mezzesalma was cold, aggressive, ruthless, and grim. He had no weakness until he met her and once he got a taste of her, she became his new addiction, now he couldn't let go and she became his only weakness and now, they all wanted her just so they could ruin that perfect facade he had built over the years but only if they knew he was worst than the monster they had never heard of, he was just too good at hiding it. There had to be a reason for Rule Number 3, right?

It was summer and Anastasia thought the rest of her days would be sunny but she was dead as she stepped into her home for the first in two years after moving to the university campus to be exchanged for her parent's debts and just like that, Anastasia was thrown into the Mafia world, working as a maid to pay off her parents debts and then she met Enzo Mezzesalma and rule number 3 said: Stay Away From Enzo Mezzesalma. Anastasia didn't know when she started breaking that rule and got herself buried in a hole she wouldn't be able to pull herself out.

"My own death does not frighten me, but yours? Oh, that's my greatest and deepest fear," - Enzo Mezzesalma
"Being his slut and being a slut are two entirely different things," - Anastasia Martin

"In the shadows of fate, blood is the ink that writes the prophecy. No matter how hard you fight it, destiny flows through your veins." Her blood was like liquid fire; it attracts and destroys, but what if it attracts the wrong and destroys the good?
Gwen had always thought there was nothing particular about her. She was just a normal she-wolf living with her grandma who restricted her from most things for unknown reasons and a best friend whom she wasn't so sure considered her as one. Then she met her mate, a blue-eyed male whom she was supposed to live the rest of her life with was already mated to another and lied to her face without remorse. Then her grandma died, leaving her with tons of questions.
Now Gwen could only find the answers on her own. Was she just a normal white wolf with a moon mark on her head or was she the magnet that attracts nothing but trouble and destruction?

In a world where vampires rule and humans are nothing but prey, Cassian Vale is sent into the lion’s den—disguised, desperate, and determined to find his missing brother. But when the most powerful vampire alive claims him as a mate, Cassian's mission takes a deadly turn.
Betrayal cuts deep. Love cuts deeper. In a game where everyone wants his blood, Cassian must decide: Will he burn the world to survive—or let himself fall, fangs and all?

My eyes flutter shut, my mind and head racing against each other as Xerxes teeth grazes my bottom lip, causing a gasp to rip out of me which he takes a full advantage of and shoves his tongue down my throat, roaming and tasting my warm cavern. For the first time, I finds myself struggling to keep up with the fervor of the kiss. Xerxes kisses me with the intention to possess, it's pure and raw, leaving room for nothing else. He pulls me with a force that I doesn't fight against as I falls on Xerxes's lap, willingly placing my knees on both sides of his hips and straddles him, my arms going around his neck and I lets myself be owned by this domineering man.


Ciel Reid is no stranger to scandal. As a rebellious actor with a bad-boy reputation, he's clawed his way to fame, leaving a trail of chaos. But when his career teeters on the edge of ruin, a lifeline appears in the form of Xerxes Laurent—a ruthless CEO with secrets as dark as his suits.
Xerxes offers him a chance to reclaim his stardom, but there’s a catch: a contract for a fake engagement that will make Ciel his pawn. What begins as a twisted business deal soon becomes a high-stakes game of power, desire, and betrayal.
In Silk Chains and Spotlight, passion burns, loyalties shatter, and nothing is what it seems.

My heat hit me in the middle of my own engagement party to a man who kills Omegas.
The air in the ballroom was suffocating, filled with the scent of expensive wine and predatory Alphas. I felt the familiar, terrifying burn start low in my stomach. My suppressants were failing. I am an Omega pretending to be a Beta, and my fiancé, Reign Montgomery, is a powerful Enigma who believes Omegas are nothing but weak whores.
I rushed to the restroom, locking myself in, praying the scent wouldn't leak. My hands shook as I dialed for help, but the door handle turned. Reign stood there. He didn't look at my face; he grabbed my wrist, pulling it to his nose, inhaling deeply. His dark, soulless eyes bore into mine. "You smell different," he whispered, his voice dangerously low. If he finds out what I really am, I’m dead.


Reign Montgomery promised himself he’d never get involved with an omega. Not romantically, not physically, not even by accident. He doesn’t trust them, doesn’t want them, and refuses to let anyone become a weakness.
Soren Fox has lived his whole life making sure no one ever learns what he truly is. An omega pretending to be a Beta, fighting in underground rings just to survive and keep his sister alive.
But one contract drags them into a dangerous partnership of lies, heat, and power, and when Soren is kidnapped, Reign realizes too late that the omega he never wanted has become the one person he can’t live without.

I stared. I gulped. My heart skipped a beat. My stomach twisted, and I could feel the butterflies stirring violently inside me. A lingering cold chill ran down my spine, spreading through my veins, flowing with the heat of lava in my blood.

The man before me was heavenly. I could barely look away. From the way his dark grey eyes pierced into mine to how his jet-black hair fell in spiked strands around his shoulders, my whole body shuddered uncontrollably at the surge of sensation building in my chest.

My gaze trailed along his sharp jawline, over his straight, pointed nose, to the thick, long eyelashes and bold brows that framed those hypnotic eyes—and finally, to his sinful, tempting, luscious lips.

Unconsciously, I ran my tongue over my own lips, caught in a trance, until the sound of my dad clearing his throat yanked me back to reality. I jolted slightly, feeling electrified.

"Tristan, I want you to meet my friend, Dr. Sean," my dad said, introducing the sexy, demigod of a man with that sinful body. I shivered again.
"Sean, meet my son, Tristan."

Dad introduced me, but my eyes stayed locked on him. And I could’ve sworn I saw a spark flicker in those dark orbs—but it vanished as quickly as it came, making me wonder if it had even been real.

I watched as he ran his tongue slowly across his reddish, luring lips, while his eyes raked over my body. My insides ignited with a fire I’d never felt before.

And then he spoke.

"Nice to meet you, kitten."

From that moment on, I knew it was over for my heart.

I had just fallen in love—with MY DAD’S FRIEND.

He didn't love her but she became his Mrs. Jack. She couldn't interfere with his personal behavior and couldn't tell others that she was his wife.

When his ex-girlfriend returned as promised, she handed him the divorce agreement, saying, "She's back, and I'm returning your freedom."

But he just laughed and said, "Mrs. Jack, you have made me fall in love with you again,Where else do you want to go?"