9133 Book(s) Related to the alpha s miracle luna

"I need you to erase Elena Cavalli completely," I said, sliding an untraceable check across the table.

People say my husband Vito Cavalli broke every mafia code for me. The heir who knelt before all five family bosses and named an ordinary woman his godmother.

For three years, he convinced the world we were in love. He told the press I was why he went legitimate, why he gave up the gun.

But devotion has an expiration date.

While I basked in his affection, believing I was cherished, he was climbing into another woman's bed.

So I walked away.

When I disappeared, he shattered.

He tore through every corner of the globe hunting for me. But the woman he'd once traded his empire for didn't love him enough to turn around.

I was born a princess of the Dragon Realm, destined for greatness.
In my past life, I married an amethyst dragon, Damien. Our union should have produced heirs worthy of legend. Instead, I bore him a Wingless One, the ultimate shame.
He didn't hesitate. One swing of his blade, and our child's cries were silenced forever. Then he dragged me, still bleeding from childbirth, to the Dragon's Maw. Threw me into the molten lava, my screams echoing as the flames consumed my flesh.
Meanwhile, my half-sister Isadora, a mere Bronze Dragon, married another Bronze, equally unremarkable. Yet somehow, she gave birth to an Amethyst Dragon.
She became our new Dragon Queen. I became carrion.
But death wasn't my end.
I opened my eyes on the day of the Choosing Ceremony. Damien stood before me. Then, with cold calculation in his eyes, he turned away. He chose Isadora.
He remembers too.
A smile curved my lips. Let him play his game. Because I know the truth now, a truth that will shatter everything.
How could a dragon who needs dark magic to maintain his wing color possibly father a dragon of true noble bloodline?

The aliens invaded. A toxic fog rolled in. New York turned into a living hell.
But I was forced into a tight spot. A strict Mother Teresa System bound itself to my soul.
I had to save everyone. Betrayers, killers, enemies—it didn't matter. If I didn't help them, the system would execute me on the spot.
Everyone mocked me.
They thought I was soft. The shelter captain stripped my weapons and threw me out into the dead zone.
They thought I was a dead man walking.
They were wrong.
They didn't know my system rewarded me with the ultimate Light ability.
So, get behind my blade.
I am going to save New York, whether it likes it or not.

I had caught Jasper entertaining the same woman in his bed seventeen times.   The first time I caught them, the shock triggered a miscarriage.   As I collapsed on his office floor in agony, Jasper didn't call 911. He just ordered his security to mop up my blood before it could ruin Lenora's designer shoes.   "At the end of the day, you're the one sitting at the head of my table," he would remind me, keeping me trapped.   When my grief finally turned to rage, I exposed their affair on his company's bulletin board.   In response, Jasper invited the tabloid press to our home. He tossed a contract at me with a cruel smirk.   "I have one other mistress," he challenged. "Find her in thirty days, and I'll drop Lenora and come home for good."   Desperate to save my marriage, I exhausted a fortune on private investigators. Yet, all my traps only ever caught Lenora.   Today was the deadline. Surrounded by flashing cameras and paparazzi, I exhaustedly slid a piece of paper with Lenora's name across the table.   "Jasper, please stop playing games."   Jasper lounged on the sofa, his arm wrapped around Lenora. He looked at me with cold, apathetic eyes.   "You dug through my entire life, yet missed the most glaring detail. The other woman... is you, Elowen."

I've signed five blood-bound annulment contracts with my mafia don husband, Killian.
Each and every time, he fed me the same line: "When this is over, we'll tie the knot again."
But every single one of those "things" was for the same woman: Seraphina Moretti.
We ended our marital bond for the first time, and I sobbed, begging him to tell me if his love for me had ever been real.
He clamped his hold on my jaw hard enough, enunciating every word coldly: "Elara, that doesn't matter."
When the second annulment rolled around, I was mocked openly at the family gala.
I locked myself away in the ensuite bathroom and sliced open my wrists; blood trickled along the tile grout.
My best mate tracked me down to find me trembling.
It wasn't the wound's ache making me shake, though—Killian was somewhere on the estate that very night, yet he never bothered to pop by and check on me once.
By the third split, I'd taught myself never to shed a tear in his presence.
On the fourth occasion, I even took it upon myself to ask him flat-out: "What sham do you need me to play along with now?"
He froze for the longest moment, said nothing at all in the end.
Now we're here for the fifth annulment.
He thought he only needs to click his fingers and I'll trot back to remarry him just as I've done all the previous times. What he did not know is this:
This time, I'm disappearing from his life for good.

Eight years ago, I was forced to marry Sicily's most dangerous man.

Louis De Santis, heir to the Santis crime family, decided he wanted me. Right in front of me, he brutally tortured and killed my fiancé Alessandro, then dumped the body in the ocean for the sharks. He used Alessandro's blood to write threats on the wall to my parents—I had no choice but to walk into that fortress he called home.

Louis was obsessed with me to the point of madness. He took bullets for me during family wars, got down on his knees and begged the family elders when they questioned his choice. Under that twisted kind of love, I gradually fell for him and gave him a son—Marco.

For five years, I thought I'd found happiness.

Until year eight, when the Corleone family sent their "peace offering"—Angelina Corleone. This innocent-looking woman effortlessly stole Louis's heart. He had the nerve to announce: "You two are going to get along."

I couldn't stand the betrayal, so I secretly reached out to other families to try getting rid of Angelina.

I got caught.

In his rage, Louis strung up 5-year-old Marco above the blast furnace at the steel mill.

"NO! Please! He's just a child!" I rushed toward Louis frantically, but his men held me back.

Molten steel roared inside the furnace at 2912°F. Scorching heat blasted upward as little Marco dangled just ten feet above the flames.

My heart nearly stopped.

"Mommy! Help me! It's so hot! So hot!" Marco screamed in terror.

"Put him down! Please!" I fell to my knees, begging desperately, "Kill me! Kill me instead! Don't hurt Marco!"

"Nod and let her stay, and I'll let him down." Louis coldly began counting down: "TEN!"

I watched Marco's little body writhing in agony from the heat.

"NINE!"

Sweat and tears blurred my vision.

"EIGHT!"

"I agree! I AGREE!" I broke down screaming, "She can stay! Please let Marco down!"

Louis smiled with satisfaction and stopped counting, about to signal his men.

Then—

"SNAP!"

The rope suddenly broke!

"NOOO—!"

Time seemed to freeze. I watched helplessly as Marco's tiny body plummeted.

"THUD!"

He fell into the furnace.

In an instant, he was gone.

I completely shattered, blood spurting from my mouth as I collapsed.

When I opened my eyes again, I'd gone back to the day Louis first brought Angelina home.

This time, I'm going to make him pay!

The kidnapper's boot sent the briefcase flying. Thirty million in cash scattered across the floor.
He pointed at me, then at the unconscious Camilla. "Not enough money. So you pick one to take home. The other stays."
Lorenzo stood among the bills, his face drained of color.
"I'm sorry. Camilla has a heart condition—she won't make it through the night here." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "You've always been the strong one. Once I get her to the hospital and pull together the rest of the ransom, I swear I'll come back for you."
The next second, Lorenzo gathered Camilla in his arms and walked out without a backward glance. The heavy iron door slammed shut with a boom that echoed through the space.
In the cavernous abandoned factory, it was just me and five thugs with brutal faces.
The leader dragged the flat of his blade across my cheek, his eyes dark with sick intent. "Well, well. Looks like your rich boyfriend just chose her over you. But hey, don't feel too bad, sweetheart—we're gonna keep you company."
Watching the twisted hunger in their eyes, I didn't scream or beg. I just glanced at the locked door. "Lorenzo's gone, right? Far enough away?"
"That p**y's probably halfway across the county by now." The leader grinned, reaching for my collar.
"Good." I let out a breath.
Snap.
The zip tie around my wrists gave way like thread. A massive shadow swallowed him whole.
In less than two seconds, a dragon nearly sixty feet long filled every inch of space.
I lowered my massive head, molten slitted eyes locked on the five frozen insects below.
Then I opened my fang-lined jaws and snapped them up one by one.

I'd been married to Nikolai Konstantin for three years. In that time, I'd miscarried six times for him—nearly died on the operating table once.

Every time I woke up, this cold-blooded mafia boss would hold my hand and say, "I'm sorry you had to go through this. Should we try again?"

I thought he loved me.

Until my seventh pregnancy, when I saw that video—

My sister Scarlett curled up in his arms, crying: "Nik, she's had six miscarriages... what if something happens to her? It's all my fault. My heart condition won't let me carry a baby..."

Nikolai kissed the top of her head: "Don't worry, baby. Her body can handle a few more tries. I promised you a child, and I always keep my promises."

That was when I finally understood—

The child in my womb had NEVER been ours.

They said I killed them all.

My father. My daughter. My brother's legs. One explosion, one moment of selfishness, and I became the family murderer.

My husband Dominic—the most feared mafia boss in the city—drowned himself in whiskey. I drowned myself in something worse.

Three years on the pole. Three years with strangers' cash stuffed in my bra, their cocks shoved down my throat, their fists in back alleys, their cameras catching every degradation. Three years swallowing cum and shame to scrape together half a million for my brother's surgery.

Then the doctors found the tumor. Three months left.

One last show, I told myself. A blindfolded performance. Enough to pay off Ethan's debt before I died.

That's when someone ripped off my blindfold.

Dominic.

Behind him stood my very-alive father. And Ethan—on two perfect legs, kicking aside an empty wheelchair. And my adopted sister Vanessa, draped over my husband, flashing a diamond ring.

This whole performance? Her birthday present.

"Surprise, sweetheart." Dominic smiled. "The explosion was fake. We just needed to put you in your place."

Ethan laughed. "Three years of stripper money made one hell of a party, sis."

My father still wouldn't look at me. "Learn to treat Vanessa right, or you're no daughter of mine."

The room exploded in laughter.

I stood there, diagnosis crumpled in my fist.

The explosion was fake. The crippled legs were fake. Everything was fake.

But the cancer eating my brain?

That was real.

Three years of doting affection was nothing but a meticulously rehearsed lie. Dante Vitale kept Isabella as his perfect human shield to guard Seraphina, the woman he truly loved. Every warmth was fake, every danger was arranged. When the truth shattered her world, she lost her child and narrowly escaped death. Presumed drowned, Isabella lays low, collects evidence, and allies with an old FBI classmate. She brings down the entire Vitale clan, ruins his power, and leaves him scavenging for food on cold streets. He weeps for her in the snow, yet she will never turn back.

Maeve and I dragged a dying animal out of the rain. We thought we were saving a life. Instead, we invited a monster to our door for a blood oath. In my first life, I accepted the oath and died screaming. In the second, Maeve took my place and was skinned alive. This is our third chance.

I hid in shadows for six years while my vampire husband played duke with his mistress.

Lucian kept our marriage secret, called our daughter "the half-blood bastard," and rushed to comfort Seraphina's twisted ankle while five-year-old Vanessa nearly died from silver poisoning.

His precious lover had "gifted" my child deadly perfume. While I held my convulsing daughter, he was cutting cake with his real family.

So I handed him divorce papers during his next dramatic rescue mission. Fool signed without reading—too busy playing hero to notice he just legally abandoned his wife and child.

Now the mighty vampire Duke burns under holy sunlight, chasing us to territories his undead flesh can't survive.

Begging on scorched pavement for a second chance he'll never get.

My husband, the terrifying Mafia Don, dropped fifteen million dollars on a luxury yacht just to throw a lavish, high-profile birthday celebration for his precious first love.

And today marks exactly seven days since I died of an infection in a Detroit slum, simply because I couldn't scrape together a few cents for antibiotics.

At the banquet, an oblivious guest tactlessly brought up my name.

Alessandro dialed my number for the first time in five years.

"Genevieve, if you've suffered enough, crawl back here and beg Elena for forgiveness."

That is, until the estate doors were violently shoved open.

A scavenger walked in, leading a little boy whose face was an eighty-percent match to Alessandro's.

My daughter was choked until her face turned purple by the mistress's son, then nearly died after my ex-husband forced her to give blood.
She was beaten, cursed at, and abandoned on a bench outside the hospital.
And I could do nothing to help her.
Because I had already died eight years ago.
It wasn't until my daughter collapsed crying at my grave—and the story made the news—that my ex-husband finally learned the truth.
He had destroyed both me and the child we shared in the cruelest way possible.
And by then, there was no fixing it.

At three in the morning, I dragged my suitcase through the front door.
After a full week at an exchange program in Germany, I was too tired to even turn on the lights. I went straight to the shower.
The hot water poured over me, and I went cold all over.
A hundred and thirteen degrees.
My temperature. The one I always use.
Ryan had always said it was scalding. In five years of marriage I must have reminded him a thousand times, but every time he showered, the dial stayed parked at his lukewarm ninety-eight. Not once had he turned it back.
Tonight, the temperature was right.
Which meant only one thing: the last person to use this shower wasn't him.
I wrapped myself in a towel and leaned against the bedroom doorframe. "So," I said, keeping my voice light. "Since when do you think about your wife?"
The man in the bed blinked, then grinned and snapped me a textbook salute. "Yes, ma'am. Won't happen again, ma'am. I'll always remember from now on."
I didn't say a word. I turned and went back into the bathroom.
As the steam slowly cleared, two pairs of handprints surfaced on the glass shower door, one over the other.
One large pair, one small. The fingertips of the small pair sat a good few inches below where mine would reach.
And caught in the drain was a single strand of hair—long, straight, black, glossy as satin.
My hair is short and honey-blond.
Credit where it's due: they'd gotten creative.
Swallowing the nausea rising in my throat, I took a photo and sent it to my cousin Riley. She was a senior at West Point, majoring in cybersecurity.
Long straight black hair. About 5'1".
Find her and I'll give you five thousand dollars.
She answered in seconds:
On it. Let's see who this little home-wrecker is.

My best friend Sophie has a rich dad, a romance-novel addiction, and Daddy’s black card.

I have student loans and three part-time jobs.

So when Sophie decided to live out every love story she’d ever read, she hired me to play the villainess.

The mean girl who corners the class genius? Me. The spoiled heiress who won’t leave the campus heartthrob alone? Also me. Ten bucks per cringey text. Cash up front.

Easiest money I ever made.

Except the heartthrob never answered my fake flirting. He only answered when I accidentally told him the truth.

Now Sophie’s on romance number three, a bad boy with a Ducati, and I’m in a back alley in black eyeliner, pretending to slap her so he can swoop in and save her.

He doesn’t show.

Her last two heroes do.

The genius smirks. “Well, well. If it isn’t the two women who once loved me to death.”

“You’ve got it wrong,” the heartthrob says, and he’s not looking at Sophie. He’s looking at me. “That’s the gorgeous rich girl who swore she’d marry me.”

I was paid to be his worst nightmare.

Nobody paid me to fall for him.

No one has ever cleared Wish.
The Boss twists every wish into death.
I should have died first.
Instead, I kissed him.
After that, everyone who hurt me died. The other players called me the Boss's secret wife—and pointed a gun at my head.
To survive, I must uncover his past and make one final wish.
Get it wrong, and I'll be erased.
Get it right, and I may bring the monster back to life.

When I had a car accident, my mate, Alpha Ethan from the Blackridge Pack, was at the airport.
Even though I was nearly unconscious due to the violent impact on my head and managed to find my phone to call him in the devastated accident scene, he hurriedly said to me to call the police myself and hung up.
He couldn't wait to rush to the airport to meet the destined mate Ava, who was said to have a terminal illness and wanted to return to see him before her death.
The day I discharged happened to be the day for taking wedding photos.
I went straight to the wedding dress store, watching her wearing the wedding dress and jewelry that I personally designed, holding my mate Alpha Ethan's hand.
I calmly said, "Please go to the front desk to settle the design fee."
Without arguing or making a fuss, I turned around and went to the hospital for an abortion surgery.
I decided to give up on him and return to my pack, going abroad to participate in the Pack Leader Training.

“A powerful opener to a series [that] will produce a combination of feisty protagonists and challenging circumstances to thoroughly involve not just young adults, but adult fantasy fans who seek epic stories fueled by powerful friendships and adversaries.”--Midwest Book Review (Diane Donovan) (re A Throne for Sisters)“Morgan Rice's imagination is limitless!”--Books and Movie Reviews (re A Throne for Sisters)From #1 Bestselling fantasy author Morgan Rice comes a new series for middle grade readers—and adults, too! Fans of Harry Potter and Percy Jackson—look no further!THE MAGIC FACTORY: OLIVER BLUE AND THE SCHOOL FOR SEERS (BOOK ONE) tells the story of 11 year old Oliver Blue, a boy unloved by his hateful family. Oliver knows he is different, and senses that he holds powers that others do not. Obsessed with inventions, Oliver is determined to escape his horrible life and make his mark on the world.When Oliver is moved to yet another awful house he is put into in a new sixth grade, one even more terrifying than the last. He is bullied and excluded, and sees no way out. But when he stumbles across an abandoned invention factory, he wonders if his dreams might be about to come true.Who is the mysterious old inventor hiding in the factory? What is his secret invention?And will Oliver end up transported back in time, to 1944, to a magical school for kids with powers to rival his own?An uplifting fantasy, THE MAGIC FACTORY is book #1 in a riveting new series filled with magic, love, humor, heartbreak, tragedy, destiny, and a series of shocking twists. It will make you fall in love with Oliver Blue, and keep you turning pages late into the night.Book #2 in the series (THE ORB OF KANDRA) and Book #3 (THE OBSIDIANS) are now also available! “The beginnings of something remarkable are there.” --San Francisco Book Review (re A Quest of Heroes)

The day manager Gregg shoved me into the freight elevator shaft, the nuclear winter outside had only just begun. As he slammed the gate shut, he said, "No one will find you dead down there; the insurance payout is enough to cover the shortfall." I died in the darkness at thirty degrees below zero. Then, I woke up. I was back on the afternoon he threw the contract in my face. This time, I didn't sign. I shoved the contract into the paper shredder, snatched the brass key ring from Supervisor Miller, locked every exit of the warehouse, and re-routed the entire building's heating system into my own command bunker. As Gregg licked ice off the frozen floor on the security monitor, I was sitting in the guard room, heating up a can of pork. Outside, the first snowflake fell. And this time, the ones who would be freezing to death were them.

Brent Hale gave me one night to save the company’s worst-performing livestream—or lose my job with everyone else in Studio Three.
I wanted the severance package.
So I ignored the script, exposed every product flaw, and told viewers exactly what not to buy.
By the time my boss tried to cut the feed, the chat was threatening to riot—and half our inventory was already gone.

The apocalypse is not a natural disaster, but a man-made one.

When the T-virus swept through London like a curse, and when my former love and brothers tore off their disguises at the last moment, I realized that the most terrifying thing in this world has never been zombies, but the human heart.

They thought they had tricked me, that abandoning me would get them a ticket to the safe house.

They don't know that I was reborn.

In my past life, my kindness became a weapon in the hands of demons; in this life, I will make the betrayers send themselves to hell.

I spent three years chasing the most popular guy on campus, only to be humiliated in front of the entire school.
My foster family treats me like a live-in maid. My biological father wants to drag me back into the gutter. And the loan sharks have made it clear that in three days, I'll be the one paying for my father's debt.
Everyone is waiting to see me fall apart.
What no one knows is that I already dreamed of the worst future waiting for me.

In my past life, I threw myself in front of the black panther alpha when his rut drove him into a frenzy—only to have him toss me into a pack of beasts and watch me get torn to pieces.
After being reborn, the first thing I did was rip off the royal crest pinned to my chest and swallow a suppressant, cutting off his control over me for good.
Everyone waited for me to come crawling back and beg for peace.
Instead, I turned and walked straight into the frozen Northlands, where the death rate was eighty percent.
There, through a severed arm, a ruined face, and the thin line between life and death, I awakened as the Platinum Lion King.
He dropped to his knees in the snow, crying and begging for forgiveness.
I only had one question for him: "What makes you think you're anything to me?"

A red dragon heir locked me in an iron shed and scorched me with his breath for ten minutes straight.Didn't kill me.He woke a Black Dragon buried under a three-hundred-year curse.The Tri-Dragon Council tore down my home, beat my father, threw me in jail, and live-streamed it all so the whole city could laugh.What they didn't know: every ancestor's soul in the Black Dragon cemetery had fused into me.I smashed through the Council's dome and slammed the dissolution order onto the table.

“Sheridan, Link gave me hope to live this past year. I’m pregnant with his child now. He’s been malnourished since he was a baby. Could you be a little more generous and give him half of your food?”

"To quell the rumors, give him the commander's authority as well! Consider it proof of your tolerance, and that way everyone will accept our family of three!"

Looking at my fiancée, who was heavily pregnant and had a saintly glow on her face, I felt a wave of nausea wash over me.

Five years of entrusting each other with life and death have resulted in this scene.

Alright, I'll grant your wish.

Without arguing or making a scene, I readily signed the power transfer agreement, removed my epaulets, and walked without looking back into the underground forbidden zone that everyone feared.

There, a crazy witch with a morbid possessiveness toward me is imprisoned.

Sylvia thought that after I relinquished power, I would only be able to kneel in the mud like a stray dog and watch them be affectionate.

But she had no idea that I was the one who had the safety net for her throughout the entire city!

After losing my protection, the system completely crashed within a few days.

That freeloader completely dropped his pretense, not only beating her half to death with domestic violence, but also attempting to invade her private space.

When she crawled to the gate of the restricted area covered in blood, crying and begging me for forgiveness and to save her life.

I was being held in the arms of that aloof witch, watching the pretty boy who had come looking for me:

"The experiment actually spoke, darling..."

I stumbled out of the Moonlit Forest covered in blood, but Magnus didn’t even look at me. He rushed straight to Jasper instead.
I clutched the blood-soaked rope, struggling to catch my breath.
“I almost didn’t make it out alive...”
Magnus whipped around, his eyes turning ice-cold.
“Stop playing the victim! If you hadn’t wasted so much time, Jasper wouldn’t have been hurt this badly!”
Before I could answer, Willa collapsed into his arms, sobbing.
“Magnus, don’t blame Elowen. I never should’ve forced her to do this...”
I stared at them, my nails digging painfully into my palms.
Magnus had threatened our son’s life to force me into the Moonlit Forest for Willa.
I had nearly died doing exactly what he demanded.
And somehow, it was still my fault.
My voice came out hoarse.
“Magnus... what do our son and I even mean to you?”
He shoved me aside and pulled Willa closer into his arms.
“You were born with Alpha blood. It’s your duty to protect the pack.”
His expression hardened.
“Don’t bother me with this nonsense.”

My life had been a nightmare until one accident changed everything.
One moment, I was the girl Ethan Blake rejected without a second glance.
The next, I woke up inside his body.
Ethan Blake.
Captain of the hockey team. King of the campus. The same guy who told me to stop wasting everyone's time and just die.
Now I wore his face, carried his name, and lived his life.
And I remembered every cruel thing he had done to me.
So I started returning the favor.
I smiled in front of his friends while tearing apart his perfect reputation piece by piece. I turned his world upside down while everyone still believed I was him.
But Ethan wasn't gone.
And he wasn't willing to stay silent.
The more I took from him, the more desperate he became to reclaim his body.
Even if it meant coming back to me—
On his knees.
Begging.

My fiancée and best friend, whom I risked my life to protect, sold me to the brutal "Blood Blade Gang . "
They laughed as they watched me being kicked into a pool of radioactive waste like a dog, waiting for me to turn into a pile of bones.
But they didn't know that the deadly radiation not only failed to melt me, but also forcibly ruptured my genetic lock, awakening the [Nuclear Fury].
I rode back to the old camp in her heavily armored vehicle.
Those two scoundrels were still arrogantly bullying me: "I have the Blood Blade Gang backing me! The big shots are coming soon, you're dead!"
I sneered and slapped them away.
Idiots, look back! Your so-called powerful backer is kneeling in the vehicle, lighting my cigarette.

Before the apocalypse hit, my ex-girlfriend called me, laughing like a maniac: "Jack, you pathetic loser—still playing that stupid farming game? Gonna whack zombies with a hoe? Open the door right now, get on your knees, and beg us, and maybe we'll throw you some table scraps."
I listened to the faint scrape of a tactical knife being drawn on the other end of the line, and silently glanced at my computer screen—at the maxed-out Greenfield Manor game, with its gold cap glowing at [999,999,999] .
"You misheard." I dropped my voice, lacing it with just the right amount of embarrassment. "I was checking the weather forecast."
The other end erupted in unrestrained laughter: "Then forecast this—how you're gonna die today!"
I hung up without changing my expression, flipped open the system, and spent a million on the [Absolute Defense Shield] —then brought out a steaming plate of roasted meat.
Forecast?
I forecast that tonight, you'll be gnawed down to bare bones by zombies.

To raise money for my younger brother’s surgery, I forged my degrees, polished my résumé, and forced my way into high society. In everyone’s mouth, I’m that woman—
the scheming bitch, the liar, the “evil bride” clinging to an old rich man.
They all think I’m obsessed with Mr. Grant, the financial shark’s mountain of assets.
Only I know the truth—what I’m really clinging to is my brother’s life.
No one expected that the first man I fell for at first sight…would be his heir, Adrian.
And yet in a blink of eyes, I became his “stepmom in name only.”
On our wedding day, everyone laughed at how shameless I was:
“She marries the dad and still dares to seduce the son?”
“Vicious little con artist—who knows what cheap tricks she pulled to marry in?”
Adrian was no exception.
He called me a liar, a manipulator, dumped all his hatred on me—said I’d do anything for money, that I was a tumor climbing up off their wounds.

Six years of marriage—I once naively believed I was the chosen one of fate. Under the full moon, Alpha Jack of the Silverfang Pack knelt on one knee and placed the Luna’s crown upon my head, whispering, “Leyna, you are my only home.” In that moment, I believed in his tenderness.
But at eight months pregnant, my body heavy with the life I thought was ours, I overheard him speaking coldly to his friend Alpha Zane:
“That’s just Claire’s embryo, nurtured in Leyna’s womb. Letting her give birth herself? Too ugly to bear.”
So the birth control herbs over the past three years—he had fed them to me himself.
The so-called IVF? A lie to spare his beloved Alpha, Claire, from pain.
And me? Nothing more than a walking incubator—the child wasn’t even mine.
That night, I stood outside the door, listening as Jack and Claire laughed and flirted. She wore my red dress; he draped my coat over her shoulders. He said casually, “She won’t suspect anything. And even if she does, what can she possibly do?”

⚠️MATURE READERS ONLY⚠️ DARK ROMANCE ⚠️

After years of loneliness, Phobos approached me. A frightening beast, my mate who emerged from within the bounds of a ruthless thundering storm. The male I yearned for. He caught me off guard and I was under the spell he cast through his ocean eyes. A spell I couldn't defeat, and that very moment I knew I was in trouble. The second our eyes met I knew he would bring me pain.

We were childhood friends, him and I. Phobos the sweet male whom I grew up with and looked up to as a pup vanished and was replaced by a cold-hearted barbarian, he scared me whilst he butchered many with a blink of his eyes. No regret, no trouble his beast often in control surging forward consuming his senses. They were equals.

How could I connect with a male like that? How could I make him call me his? A male who didn't need the presence of a Luna. I was neither a want nor a necessity for him as he was for me. The way he gazed at me, I could sense it in the marrow of my bones. Disappointment, unworthy...unneeded.


'𝓕𝓪𝓬𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓽, 𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓯𝓵𝓮𝓮 𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝔂𝓸𝓾. 𝓡𝓾𝓷 𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓽, 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓱𝓲𝓼.'

⚠️ Trigger Warning
This book contains mature content intended for (18+) readers. Themes include, but are not limited to: strong language, explicit sexual scenes, violence, emotional abuse, and power imbalances.

"It's no wonder you are unlovable!" She spat, "Nobody wants you."
Massimo moved faster than lightning, one moment he was standing apart, the next his hand clamped around her jaw. His finger was bruising, forcing her face upward. Rage darkened his features until the blue of his eyes looked almost black.
He crashed his mouth against hers in a punishing kiss. It was devoid of passion, claiming what she refused to give freely. He broke away just enough to growl against her lips.
"Two minutes ago your cunt was dripping for me. You would have let me fuck you senseless right there on the sheets."
His grip tightened, pushing her chin higher until she met his gaze. "So cut the hypocrisy. And God help you if you test my patience one last time."


She was never meant to be his bride.
Eloise Bernardi is a mistake; the inconvenient daughter meant to watch from the sidelines while her beautiful cousin marries into the Caputo empire. But when Massimo Caputo, the ruthless Mafia Don feared across Italy, chooses her instead, her whole world tilts.

Forced into his arms and bound by vows she never wanted, Eloise must navigate a marriage thick with tension, power, and a desire that terrifies her as much as it tempts her. Because Massimo doesn’t just want obedience.
He wants her fire.
He wants her resistance.
And her surrender in his bed.

"Damien... Damien is cheating on me with Selene." Relief washed over me when I saw my parents coming.
Yet neither of my parents looked surprised. My relief disappeared. "You... you all knew?"
"Aurelia..." My mother started.
"Enough!" Damien snapped. "I don't want you anymore, okay?"
Selene purred, stepping up beside him and wrapping her arm intimately around his waist.
"This is unjust. We are betrothed by pack decree. I am going to expose you both to the entire pack!"
"There will be no need for all of that," my father cut me off.
I froze. "Dad?"
"Damien has made his choice. He is the future Alpha of the Crimson Fang Pack, Aurelia. He has the ultimate right to decide who stands beside him as Luna."
I stood alone in the center of the room, surrounded by my family and the man who was supposed to become my mate.
Turning on my heel, I bolted down the hallway toward my bedroom while my parents ran after me.
"Aurelia, wait. Sweetheart, please, just stop for a moment," my mother said.
"We didn't want to hurt you," my father said. "But I have to think about this family's future. Whichever daughter Damien marries, our family benefits."
I looked at them until my mother offered a hopeful smile.
"Besides, this might actually be a blessing in disguise for you, Aurelia. You're getting old, and without a wolf, your options are limited."
My eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"
"We actually have a wonderful suitor in mind for you. He's a respectable man. It would be best if we announced your engagement immediately," my father chimed in seamlessly.
They didn't care about my feelings, nor were they trying to comfort me. They were terrified of the scandal.
If Damien broke off his engagement with me to marry my younger sister, the pack elders would view it as a dishonorable scandal.
"No way. I am not marrying anyone to save face for Damien and Selene. I'm leaving."
"You can't refuse, Aurelia," I heard my father say.
"The contract has already been signed."
I thought catching my mate in bed with my sister was the worst thing that could happen to me.
Apparently, I had underestimated how creative my family could be.

"That night, Alena was sold by her mother for one billion to serve a man who was looking for a virgin. That man was me, Mom! I was the one who bought Alena! She was sold and forced to do something she didn’t want to do, and Mom still thinks Alena is a woman of loose morals?"

Alena was treated like a burden in her own family. Made to be a servant, humiliated, treated unfairly, even beaten. All of that had become part of her life under the pressure from her mother and stepbrother. One day, to make money, Alena was sold to a lecherous man. Selena and her mother, Marissa, thought they had sold Alena to a wealthy, old, ugly, and fat man. However, the mysterious man who bought Alena turned out to be a young, filthy-rich businessman named Adrian. Even more surprising, he was the owner of the company where Selena worked. How will Selena react when she finds out that the man who bought Alena is the boss she’s been trying to win over all this time? And how will Alena react when she discovers that that dark night has sown the seed of new life within her womb?

Five years ago, I spent the most out-of-control night of my life with a stranger.
My body burned, my mind was a blur, and all I could remember was the way he took me with relentless force.
I clutched the sheets and never even saw his face clearly.

Five years later, I return to this city with my child—only to run into that same cold, powerful man again.
He corners me, his gaze dark and burning.
“The woman that night... was it you?”
I grit my teeth and let out a cold laugh, denying everything.

If that night was never an accident, then what kind of ending is waiting for us?

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

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

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

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

In that moment, my heart died completely.

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

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

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

“Divorce? You’re mine. For life.”

“A powerful opener to a series [that] will produce a combination of feisty protagonists and challenging circumstances to thoroughly involve not just young adults, but adult fantasy fans who seek epic stories fueled by powerful friendships and adversaries.”--Midwest Book Review (Diane Donovan) (re A Throne for Sisters)“Morgan Rice's imagination is limitless!”--Books and Movie Reviews (re A Throne for Sisters)From #1 Bestselling fantasy author Morgan Rice comes a new series for middle grade readers—and adults, too! Fans of Harry Potter and Percy Jackson—look no further!In THE ORB OF KANDRA: OLIVER BLUE AND THE SCHOOL FOR SEERS (BOOK TWO), 11 year old Oliver Blue is back in the present day, racing to save Armando before his destined moment to die.But when Oliver learns that the sacred Orb of Kandra has been stolen, he knows it is up to him—and him alone—to save the school. And the only way is to travel back in time, to the England of 1690s, and to save one very important person: Sir Isaac Newton.The Obsidian School, meanwhile, has powerful seers of its own, and all are bent on Oliver’s destruction. And when they enlist and transform Oliver’s bully brother, Chris, it may just mean a fight to the death.An uplifting fantasy, THE ORB OF KANDRA is book #2 in a riveting new series filled with magic, love, humor, heartbreak, tragedy, destiny, and a series of shocking twists. It will make you fall in love with Oliver Blue, and keep you turning pages late into the night.Book #3 in the series (THE OBSIDIANS) is now also available!“The beginnings of something remarkable are there.” --San Francisco Book Review (re A Quest of Heroes)

After a painful loss and with overwhelming uncertainty knocking at her door, Lunna Rivera feels lost once again, accompanied by fear. She still feels like the little girl shaking in fear under the covers, wishing her heartbeat would calm down. However, she discovers something: true love. Will love to rise like a rainbow after the storm? She and Adam will face several difficulties that will test their love and feelings, putting their hearts to the test. Will this burn love stay alive? Will Adam finally fight for his first love? And will Luna learn to see beyond appearances to discover the truth?

However, for Lunna, trusting her heart means a path that should not be followed, something deceitful and cruel. She prefers not to think about it because it causes fear and reminds her of the child who cried under the sheets, wondering why her heart was bleeding again.

Luna must heal her broken heart, while Adam faces his own internal battles. Will it be possible to overcome past mistakes and find redemption? Will the love between Luna and Adam withstand all trials? They explore pain, overcoming, and the search for true connection. Confronting their weaknesses and traumas, both want to rekindle the flame of love that once brought them together. Secrets will be revealed, difficult choices will be made, the courage to forgive and start over will be fundamental.

Will destiny have a happy ending in store for Luna and Adam?

My wife is upstairs with another man—her first love.
But I don't want to fight about it.
I'm not staying here because of her.
Her father once saved my father's life. I'm here to repay that debt.
So they pushed even further.
She wants me to give way to her first love.
Give up my seat at dinner, my trust fund eligibility, my position as family consigliere, even our couple's travel tickets.
Fine. Have it your way.
I'm leaving to go back to being the Don I was meant to be.
Hope your family can survive the mafia wars without me.

At the parents' meeting, the daughter's diary was read aloud: "My father is the Grand Duke of the Night."
The room erupted in laughter.
The mentor, disregarding her daughter's dignity, tore up her diary, while the nouveau riche woman advised me , a liar, to "get out of this neighborhood."
I didn't say anything, I just stood up. Then, their knees were all shattered.

As the extreme cold apocalypse arrives, my most trusted protégé conspires with other shareholders to force me from power. Everyone is watching me become a laughingstock.

Just as I reach the brink of desperation and prepare to sign my resignation, countless scrolling comments suddenly cover my vision.

They're frantically displaying information about the future, such as—in three days, the apocalypse will end...

After ten years of being a "consumable," I performed my final maintenance on the very day Vivian handed my life's work over to someone else. I didn’t argue or resist; I just signed the paperwork with a smile. When the Thorne Tower began to collapse floor by floor due to my final permission error, she finally realized that all the brilliance she boasted of was nothing more than the residual warmth I had fed her. Now, she kneels in the ruins, begging me to turn back time. I only find her voice… annoying.

They gave me to a Mafia family because their real daughter was too precious to sacrifice.

My husband was supposed to be a crippled, impotent psychopath nobody wanted.

But on my wedding night, I found out that the man in the wheelchair could walk. And he wasn't crazy.

He was dangerous.

And worse, he already knew me.

Years ago, I saved the life of a wounded stranger and never saw him again.

I never imagined that the stranger would become my husband, or that the most feared Mafia heir in New York would make me the one thing his enemies could use against him.

My family thought they had sent me to my death.

They didn't realize they had handed me to the Mafia King.

Three years ago, I took an undercover job: pose as a bottom-tier janitor and infiltrate a crime syndicate.

But I didn’t fit. My posture, my stride, the way I watched people—none of it looked like a janitor.

So command made the call: hypnotize me, seal my memories, erase who I was. In three months, someone would come wake me up.

They never did. My handler died, the line went dark, and I stayed buried.

I lost myself and spent three years scrubbing this place from the bottom—where anyone could kick me, spit at me, call me useless.

Until today. A stranger, drenched in blood, was dragged into the hall. He lunged close and whispered one sentence into my ear.

It was the trigger phrase.

The lock in my head snapped open. My name is Jack Reynolds—ex–Marine operative—sent here to bring down the Grey Wolf Alliance.

And everyone who spent three years stepping on my neck is about to learn what that means.

Excerpt

"What were you trying to do, Qiyara?" My eyes devour the harshness of his hungered swallow and his clenched trembling fist set against the wall. His raging heat that bounds me within, I find unfathomably irresistible.

"I was merely dancing, Cronus." A feverish breathless lie I spout engraving the way the tip of his hot tongue peeks out his mouth to caress his plump lower lip. I wish to obtain a taste of what he can offer.

My ample breasts heave achingly to stroke his wicked flesh, his eyes set aflame to my words for he knows I hold no truth. Then I shall gladly be a sinner, his sinner.

"If you were trying to make me jealous so that I would lose my control and ravish you then you are wrong. I have trained to be a master of control since I was a mere pup. Do not test me." He does not understand, my desperation for him to ram himself raw & deep within me.

"You won't touch me." I move forward swiftly to taste the nape of his neck with a seductiveness. My hand descends his sculpted flesh to embrace his straining girth that is fastened under his jeans. Succumb to me, my male.

He seizes my wrist with brutality. "You are still young, you are not ready." He is too much of an honourable male for me.

"Fuck me, Cronus. Take me against this wall." I am relentless in my lewdness. I lure him into my den.

"Stop it, Qiyara!"

Blazing eyes meet his with a formidable determination. "Then I will keep going against you. I shall be the devil for I will entice you because I ache to feel it."

"Feel what?" He questions nose flaring, his wrath to my stubbornness soaring.

"You lose control."


The forbidden fruit, that was what Cronus was to me. He was one of my brother's closest friends and the most sought-after male who many females from diverse packs fawned over praying he would end up being hers. He was a charmer indeed for with those flirty smiles of his and genuine kindness he enthralled many including me. He was thirteen years older than me but I always had a thing for older males so it started out as a covert crush until I too stood in line with the rest of the females hoping to claim him as mine. However, my position in that line of thirsty females was not last as I had expected but first for Cronus ended up being my mate just as I yearned for, the moon's gift.

Forbidden fruit? Not anymore, Cronus is mine and I am going to gobble this male up.

She once believed in fairytales. Life taught her otherwise. Heartbreak had become Emily’s constant companion, convincing her that true love was nothing more than a fantasy.

But fate had other plans. Her path was about to cross with Jason Russo, a man who would change everything. Their story was written in the stars, destined to unfold in ways Emily could never imagine.

In the deep wilds of secrets, there was a hidden world between Nexus and Ethereal the Krea. The world of Krea was built in the seasons of crystal keys. There is a shrine cut into the mountainside. The forest covers these shrines like a shroud. This is a quiet world, but the shrine of the Lycan is quieter still. Dragons and other creatures keep away from the place. From the different sides of the Kingdom of Krea. Suddenly, the five gods had awakened, as had the tribe of Lycan. They hear the loud ringing bell of Krea, and after that, the lightning strikes loudly in the cage of the crystal key under the gold handkerchief. There’s one of the gods who stole the crystal key from Zeno, the infinity god of the Krea.