356 Book(s) Related to why no odd thomas 2

Zoe Anthony had one mission: assassinate Alpha Jeremy Dylan, the ruthless monster whose family slaughtered her parents. But when her sniper bullet misses and plunges his little sister into a coma, Zoe becomes the most hated captive in the Lakewood Pack.

Bound and marked to be burned alive, she expects a brutal end. Instead, a single touch from the devastatingly handsome Alpha changes everything.

For twenty-nine years, Jeremy has been frozen by a dark curse—unable to feel desire for any woman. Until Zoe. Her touch is the only medicine that wakes his inner beast.

Spared from the fire but condemned to his torment, Zoe is made his slave. By day, she endures the pack's cruelty. By night, she belongs entirely to the Alpha who vows to break her. But the Moon Goddess plays the ultimate trick: they are fated mates.

When a deadly conspiracy forces Jeremy to pull the trigger on her himself, he thinks he’s buried his problem. He doesn’t know Zoe survived. He doesn't know she's carrying his secret heir—the most powerful Alpha ever conceived. And he certainly doesn’t know that the mysterious, lethal foreign princess entering his pack months later is the very same slave girl returned to burn his kingdom to the ground...

One trigger. Two enemies. A bond written in blood.

Silver poisoning struck, and my mother's life hung by a thread.
I knelt and begged my partner Selene to use the 100,000 gold coins from our war spoils to purchase Moonlight Holy Water, but she coldly refused with a sneer: "An ordinary silver poison patient isn't worth wasting resources on." She then turned and spent 80,000 coins on a necklace for her male lover.
My mother died in my arms as I ground my teeth and swallowed my tears of blood.
But when the patrol came to collect the body, she finally discovered—the one sent to be buried deep in the mass grave wasn't my mother at all, but her own biological mother.
She had personally buried her own mom!

One forbidden glance set off a wildfire of lust, lies, and blood during a family reunion. Before he began having sex with his aunt “Ruby” on her marital bed, Richy believed that blocking his ex would put an end to his problems.

The fact that the man who reared him is not his father, the husband he cheated on is, and the nieces he refers to as family are carrying his "dad's" children strikes like a heart attack as pregnancies mount and secrets come to light.

How do you get away from the family you assisted in destroying when every blood tie, becomes a noose? You will question every family photo after reading this unvarnished, twisted story about betrayal, desire, and the dark side of kinship.

I am a hero. The saint's husband.
A country boy chosen by the temple.
I fight, I fight, I fight.
All for the saint, for the temple.
But it wasn't until I was drained of blood and dying on the altar that I finally heard clearly what the saint and her childhood sweetheart were saying:
"If you become a hero and marry the saint, you'll have to surrender your soul to the temple. I don't want you to lose your soul."
"Then let's just find some country boy to be the hero. It won't matter if he dies."
Oh, so that's how it is.
You should have said so earlier.
I can defeat the Demon Lord just fine without the saint.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the wedding ceremony.
This time, someone else should be on the altar.

My wife, the most ruthless godmother in New York's underworld, wants a divorce.
The reason? Her male subordinate's old wound has flared up, and he only has three months to live. She wants to accompany him on his final journey as his wife.
To make room for her new lover, she not only doesn't go home, but even allows him to frame me for a fabricated death sentence.
In the dimly lit underground interrogation room, the backlash from deviating from the proper procedures caused my organs to rapidly fail, and I developed a persistent high fever.
Through the iron bars, she looked at my disfigured body, not recognizing me, but coldly raising her gun and giving the order to execute me herself.
She proudly believed that by clearing the way, she could go back and have a grand wedding with the man who was feigning illness.
Until the last shot, when my breathing stopped completely, she saw the old scar on the back of my left hand—the scar from the severed finger I had left for her.
That once arrogant godmother instantly broke down in tears beside my corpse.