7829 Book(s) Related to the lycan king s mate

I spent five years living as a benevolent saint and healer, beloved and praised across the realm. But a sudden summons from the Rose Duke pulled me into the cruel, scheming world of the nobility. Plagued by my fake sister’s malice, ridiculed by arrogant nobles, and exploited by the royal family, my peaceful pretense finally shattered. The moment my mentor’s seal broke, my dormant, demonic curse powers awakened at last. Holiness is only my mask; curses are my deadliest secret. Standing side by side with the forbearing, hidden cursed prince, I tore apart the royal family’s hypocritical lies and taught every soul who dared to underestimate me: the gentlest saint can wield the darkest, most unforgiving power.

Before I died, I married mob boss Dante in my sister's place.

Five years of marriage, and I was nothing but her replacement. He hated me for stealing her spot. My parents were ashamed I couldn't make him love me. Everyone just waited for her to come back.

Christmas Eve—fire tore through the mountain estate. Dante's first move? Sprint straight to my sister, fresh off the plane. My parents escaped right behind him. Nobody remembered the pregnant wife locked in the dressing room. Smoke and flames took me and my baby while they held each other outside, celebrating they'd made it out alive.

I opened my eyes on the day they cornered me with divorce papers.

My parents threw the documents at me. My sister stood there smirking, ready to slide into my place. This time? I didn't cry. Didn't beg. I picked up the pen and signed.

They wanted me gone? Done.

The apocalypse has arrived, but I am merely the villainous master in a doomsday novel.

The mission given to me by the system is to humiliate my kind-hearted fiancée, Avery.

Looking at the only dry rations left before us, I stomped them into pieces right in front of all the wasteland refugees, grinding them into the muddy ice and snow with the sole of my shoe, and commanded condescendingly:

"Bitch, lick it clean."

Instead of running away, she trembled and knelt before me submissively, lifting her head with a look of near-morbid attachment burning in her eyes.

Wait a minute, didn't the original script say she would become my mortal enemy?

Why is she kissing me?

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.

Twenty-five years of being overlooked.
My husband Steven prefers my best friend Liliana, and my son Terry and grandson Roy treat me like a maid.
I thought I could endure this life forever, but when Steven gave my dream trip to Liliana, I couldn't take it anymore.
I decided to leave and stop wanting their love.

The day I won the competition, my sister's heart "failed," and she could never stand again.

From that moment, she claimed all the favoritism.

Looking at my wall of honors, she sat in her wheelchair, heartbroken: "Chloe is so amazing, unlike me—just a burden who could die any moment."

My brother's heart ached for her. He grabbed a baseball bat and smashed all my trophies to pieces, defending her honor.

When I was selected as dance troupe captain, tears streamed down her face: "If I hadn't gotten sick, could I have shined on the Lincoln Center stage too?"

My parents turned to scold me for showing off, drugging me before the audition and ruining my chances.

Later, she had a breakdown and went live on Instagram, swallowing pills while sobbing that she didn't deserve love.

My childhood sweetheart, my fiancé, rushed to her side immediately. He dropped to one knee and slipped my diamond engagement ring onto her finger.

Later, I was killed by an armed robber. As I lay dying, I made one last desperate call for help.

He hung up impatiently:

"Mia needs me to hold her hand during her IV treatment. Stop being so fucking unreasonable!"

When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day my sister's heart "failed."

When I opened my eyes once more and beheld the familiar glint of scheming in my sister's gaze, I knew—she had also been reborn.

In my past life, she shattered the souls of my child and me with a forbidden moonlight ritual, driven solely by envy of my perfect partner and healthy heir. In my dying moments, I saw no remorse in her eyes, only a twisted satisfaction.

In this life, she still seeks to seize everything from me—my fiancé, my child.

This time, I have chosen the one whom everyone scorns as the "exile."

They call him a monster, curse him, and claim that any woman who unites with him will bear only deformed beasts.

What they fail to comprehend is that as I lay on the brink of death, it was he whose golden eyes reflected the anguish of despair. What they know even less is the secret I harbor—one that even I scarcely believe.

My dear sister, do you desire the perfect heir? Do you yearn for supreme power?

Come, then.

Let us see how long your hypocritical facade can endure when the blood moon rises again, and all discover the true "monster."

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.

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."

Five years ago, on my wedding day, my fiancé Vincent fucked my best friend in the bridal suite.

Five years later, I returned to New York with my husband—the most powerful Mafia boss in Naples. At Atelier Milano, my former best friend Bianca circled my custom gown like a vulture, pestering the staff about meeting the legendary Mrs. Salvatore.

She had no idea the woman she pitied as a pathetic nobody was the very person she was dying to impress.

I saved a dying mobster three years ago. Vincent Ricci—New York's most feared Godfather.

He decided I was his. Private jets, five-million-dollar proposals, the whole nine yards. I fell for it.

The night before our wedding, his enemies took me. Three days of torture left me blind. Everyone said he'd never marry damaged goods. He married me anyway and spent three years treating me like a queen.

Yesterday I fell down the stairs and my sight came back.

But that's when I found out about my perfect husband's dirty secret.

Because of his grandfather's dying wish, Supreme Court Chief Justice Garrick Vance—the most powerful beast-shifter in the city—was forced to marry me, a human court clerk who had secretly loved him for years.

For six years we pretended to be strangers at work while he remained ice-cold toward me and our daughter Wren at home. When his celebrity ex-girlfriend Seraphina returned from overseas, I watched him come alive for another woman—attending her parties, rushing to her side at midnight.

Meanwhile, our five-year-old daughter waited every night for a father who never came home.

The day Wren nearly died from his careless gift, I finally signed the mate bond dissolution papers.

This time, he's lost us forever.

The loan sharks who kidnapped us wanted payment for my twin sister's gambling debts—in blood.

When my FBI negotiator father showed up with his tactical team, he found Lily with a paper cut, crying her heart out. I was dying from a gunshot wound in a basement below.

I called him with my dying breath: "Dad, please send help. I'm bleeding out."

"Are you kidding me right now, Emily? Your sister just went through hell, and you're pulling this pathetic stunt for attention? How sick are you?"

He hung up. I died alone, dismissed as a liar.

Three days later, they found my body. And the truth that came with it burned their perfect world to ash.

I thought I was marrying the New York Godfather out of love. I didn't know I was just a walking blood bank for his fake 'savior'—my illegitimate half-sister.

My father, my brother, my husband... they bled me dry, framed me, and even demanded my unborn baby's cord blood to keep a murderer alive.

When I finally learned the truth, I didn't cry. I didn't scream.
I simply locked the doors, scheduled the emails that would shatter their reality, and left them a charred corpse in a towering sea of fire.

They thought they watched me burn. I let them descent into absolute madness.

"Stop—Daniel, the fk are you doing! I came here to learn to swim, not get fked!"
In the pool, because my kicks were all wrong, Daniel—my husband's cousin—told me to wrap my legs around his waist to "feel the rhythm."
Except I was wearing that scarlet bikini Vincent shoved me into—practically nothing. Even worse, Daniel's rk-hard ck in those thin trunks was jammed right up against my py.
Every time he kicked, that thing dragged right over my ct, like it was about to shove straight inside.

"You sure dispatch called this... natural causes?" I gripped the steering wheel, staring at the perfect suburban house.
"That's what they said," Gates muttered. The victim's father, Arthur, stood at the door in pressed khakis, weeping.
He swore his daughter, Grace, died in her sleep last night after eating vanilla pudding.
But the moment we stepped inside, a suffocating cocktail of cheap lavender spray and rotting meat punched me in the sinuses.
In the living room, SpongeBob SquarePants was blasting at maximum volume. Grace was slumped in a recliner. When Gates gently pinched her wrist to lift her arm, a sickeningly soft, tearing rip echoed in the room.
Her grayish skin completely degloved, fused to the leather armrest. Beneath the liquefied muscle tissue, frantic rows of tiny white maggots wriggled into the exposed bone.
A body that died "last night" doesn't breed maggots.

"Whoever left that wild strawberry scent on my bed is dead," the severely germaphobic captain posted.
I froze. It was me.
Now, my idiot brother just locked me in Ronan's room to pay off a debt. Ronan ignored my boyish disguise. Leaning in, his nose brushed my hood.
"Wild strawberry," he whispered, a dangerous smirk forming. "It WAS you."

My mother-in-law, Dorothy, sneered that I dressed like a janitor. My husband, Adrian, called my design sketches "a waste of fabric." Even the son I carried for nine months called me an embarrassment, saying he wished his dad’s secretary, Madison, was his mother.
For eight long years, I was nothing but an unpaid maid in this house.
Until today, when the doctor told me severe exhaustion was causing my heart to fail. And my eight-year-old son just pointed at the bag of medicine in my hand, shrieking, "You just have a headache! Why are you wasting money on medicine?"
I didn't argue. I didn't cry. I went home, opened the bottom drawer of Adrian’s desk, and signed the divorce papers he had been secretly preparing.
In their wildest dreams, they could never imagine that the sole trigger condition for my late mother's $50 million trust fund was for me to leave this man.

My husband suffered a massive heart attack mid-thrust inside my best friend.

Now, the ER doctors are clutching his surgical consent forms, waiting for me—the legal wife—to sign.

Over the phone, my mother-in-law shrieked in absolute despair while my best friend sobbed in terror.

I turned a deaf ear to them, taking my time to admire my makeup in the mirror.

There was absolutely no rush. Waiting until I changed into this pitch-black mourning dress to slowly watch his countdown to death wouldn't be too late.

After all, when my parents and my son, Noah, were lying in the morgue, I survived a dead-silent night exactly like this one, shedding tears until my eyes literally bled dry.

Now, it is finally my husband's turn to go to hell and atone for my family.

When my parents forced me to donate my organs to my sister, I didn't refuse or run away. I just quietly signed the surgical consent forms, willingly giving my kidney to Vivienne, their beloved daughter.

A few months ago, my sister was hospitalized with kidney failure. The doctor said she needed a transplant. My family's first thought was me—the backup daughter they'd kept around all these years.

When my husband Allen took my hand with tears in his eyes and said, "Only you can save her," I agreed without hesitation.

When the doctor explained the surgical risks and potential complications, I smiled and nodded my understanding.

My parents said I'd finally learned what sisterly love meant.

Even Allen, who'd always been cold to me, held my hand gently and said, "The surgery's safe. You're so healthy, nothing will go wrong. When you recover, I'll take you to Hawaii."

But they don't know that no matter how the surgery goes, I won't be around to celebrate.

Because I just got my own test results—I have terminal brain cancer. I'm going to die anyway.

To marry Vincent Romano, I survived twenty-eight near-death experiences over five years.
The first: city hall's foundation collapsed — three broken ribs. The second: a truck rollover — my right leg nearly amputated. The twenty-seventh: a chandelier in the bridal shop, three days unconscious.
All of Seren City laughed at me. Romano's most cursed bride-to-be. Yet I loved him still.
Until the twenty-eighth time.
When the bomb detonated outside city hall, I threw myself over Vincent on instinct. The blast shifted my organs and shredded my back. The day my stitches came out, I felt no relief at having survived.
Because I stood outside the study and heard his voice.
"Her organs were badly damaged. She almost actually died." Antonio's horror was audible. "Vincent, you used to treat her so well—"
"People change." A pause, then quieter: "I did want to marry her once. But before Amelia, I had no idea what it meant to truly want someone. I acknowledge the debt — I just can't spend my life repaying it." Another pause. "Father won't agree, and she won't let go easily."
"So." His voice turned to ice. "The only clean way out is to make her give up on her own. As long as Cassandra refuses to break the engagement, the accidents must continue. Until she walks away."

I bought my five-year-old son a Captain America shield for his birthday.

But when I landed in New York, the hospital called.

"Your son died during the medical procedure your husband authorized."

Marcus had signed Axel up as a living donor. For his mistress's kid.

While our baby bled out on the operating table, Marcus was cutting birthday cake with his new family.

Even used Axel's favorite Superman pillow as decoration.

I stared at my child's mutilated corpse and made a promise.

You fed my baby to wolves for a whore's smile. Time to return the favor, Marcus.

After Ava lost her voice in a car crash, my brother fled the country overnight.
My parents begged me to take his place and honor the engagement.
For three years, I stayed by her side. I took care of her, helped her through rehab, and waited for the day she could finally speak again.
But at our wedding, my brother came back to stop it.
In front of everyone, my parents pressured me to step aside. "You were only filling in for Ethan in the first place. Now that he's back, it's time to give his fiancée back."
Ava stopped walking toward me and, without a second thought, ran straight into my brother's arms.
Later, she tried to smooth things over in private. She said it was only to test my brother's intentions, and promised that in the end, she would still marry me.
She thought I'd stay right where I was, like I had for the past three years, waiting for scraps.
What she didn't know was that I had already accepted the Godfather's secret appointment. That very night, I boarded a helicopter bound for the North District.
Now that the man she never got over was back, it was time for me to claim the underground empire that belonged to me.

I am just a simple florist making an honest living. Yet, somehow, the city's untouchable elites keep suffering horrific, freak accidents right after someone buys my flowers. The police know I'm involved, but they can't prove a thing. After all, how much damage can a few blooming petals really do?

During a luxury cruise, Lydia is drugged, blacks out, and wakes in the hands of Ethan, a notorious arms dealer, the most feared name in the UK, and a whispered warning across Europe.

He catches her by the ribbon in her hair and turns her escape into a dead end, yet he never takes her life.

While everyone waits for the moment she breaks, Ethan clasps a bracelet around her wrist, a mark she never manages to remove.

"They say you'll redeem me," he murmurs, voice dangerously low as he tilts her chin up. "But I only want to lock you away forever."

He thinks he's playing a game of conquest. Instead, he's the one who surrenders. Until the day he kneels, blood on his hands, a ring held out like a confession.

"Good girl," he breathes. "Call me 'honey.' Stay with me, forever."

I'd sacrificed everything—my savings, my future—to rescue a memoryless man from the twisted wreckage of his car. Day by day, we developed feelings for each other. He slipped a simple silver ring onto my finger, calling me his sole comfort, the only light in his life.
However, the light was violently extinguished the day his true wife burst into the hospital. Her bodyguards slamming me against the wall was just the beginning. As the blows rained down, I learned his real identity: Ethan Vance, the heir of the richest family in the L City.
The most damning evidence was their marriage certificate, issued two years before we had met. The ultimate betrayal came as his wife deliberately snapped my fingers and stripped me of my last shred of dignity. He saw it all with icy detachment, then turned and pulled her close. "Lana doesn’t need to be reasonable. I’m the one backing her ".

“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.

My husband, Marco, in his bid for the position of Don, was forced to marry the young widow of the previous Don, Claudia.
Every night, after returning from Claudia’s place, he would hold me and swear, "You’re the only woman I love, Elena. Claudia has the connections I need. Once I have real power and secure my position, I’ll make you my wife in name and in public."
But as I waited for him to rise to power, what started as a political act turned into nights where he simply never came home.
Then, on Christmas, I was dragged to their engagement party—where I was beaten in front of everyone.
Our six-year-old daughter, Sophia, knelt on the floor, crying and begging him, "Godfather, please, let my mommy go..."
But Marco stayed silent.
"It’s okay," I whispered, picking up my wounded daughter. "Mommy’s going to take you somewhere that truly belongs to us."
What Marco never knew was this: I never cared about being the Donna of this small city.
I am the only heir of the Rossi family—the most powerful Mafia family in all of Sicily.

（Do not open this novel lightly, or you will become so engrossed that you won't be able to stop reading for three days and nights...）
Alia never dreamed that she would have a flash marriage with a man she had only met twice!
On their wedding night, she was pinned down and dominated by him.
The next day, the man transformed into the CEO of the company where she was interning.
Not only that, but he was also the next heir to the Mafia... "The Black Prince"!

"Play the perfect wife. Take the cash. Walk away ruined."

The rules of my two-year marriage contract with billionaire Silas Rutherford were simple.
Until he found the video that proved I killed his late wife.

Now, he doesn't want a contract. He wants revenge.
And the price for my survival? Becoming the bedwarmer to a man who vows to destroy me.

He thinks he’s punishing a murderer. He doesn't know I'm protecting the real killer—or that the child growing inside me is his.

Monica , a mistreated Omega at the hands of her stepbrother, faces judgment and abandonment from her Alpha mate, Conrad. Seeking solace, she turns to the Governor, finding refuge from the nightmares of her past. Together, they embark on a vengeful mission to make Conrad pay for the pain he caused and seek justice for the Governor's deceased wife. Monica devises a plan to seduce Conrad and earn his trust, but the question remains: will her love triumph? Can she truly make him suffer and face his demise?

As a shocking revelation unfolds, Monica's world is turned upside down, forcing her to question her choices and decisions.

“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 author Morgan Rice comes a new series for fantasy and middle grade readers (and adults, too)! Fans of Harry Potter and Percy Jackson—look no further!In THE SCEPTER OF FIRE: OLIVER BLUE AND THE SCHOOL FOR SEERS (BOOK FOUR), 12 year old Oliver Blue is dispatched on an urgent mission to save The School for Seers. He must travel back in time, to Florence, 1592, to find the only artifact that can save them all.Yet the secret is guarded by none other than Galileo himself.As Oliver searches for one of the great scientists and inventors of all time, the man who invented the telescope and who discovered planets, Oliver must wonder: is a he a seer, too? And what other secrets is he holding?His brother Chris, more powerful than ever, remains determined to kill Oliver for all time. Oliver soon realizes it is a race against time, as the fate of the school—and of the world—is at stake.An uplifting fantasy, THE SCEPTER OF FIRE is book #4 in a riveting new series filled with magic, love, humor, heartbreak, tragedy, destiny, and a string of shocking surprises. It will make you fall in love with OLIVER BLUE, and keep you turning pages late into the night.Book #5 in the series will be available soon! “The beginnings of something remarkable are there.”--San Francisco Book Review (re A Quest of Heroes)

Reborn seven days before the zombie siege, Shen Lie returns to the day he was tricked into a deadly dark web live stream. Betrayed by his wife and trapped as prey for global wealthy viewers, he uses his stunt skills to layout a counter-kill plan, turning every hunter into the hunted and exposing the bloody evil behind the apocalypse game.

A torrential downpour of strong acid flooded the city, and mutated sea monsters slaughtered buildings. When Chloe, along with burly men from the rugby team, wielding fire axes, frantically smashed down the door, attempting to burn me alive and steal my bottled water, I had already welded the security door firmly into the load-bearing wall.
Faced with the pried-open door, I didn't waste any words and directly used a 20,000-volt electric spear to pierce the strong man's thigh! Then, I coldly pushed the blood-soaked floor outside.
The pungent smell of blood instantly attracted the skeletal behemoths from the water, turning the corridor into a horrific slaughterhouse. I listened coldly to their desperate screams in front of the monitor.
In this desolate wasteland, you think you can survive by stepping on me? Then feed the monsters with your flesh and blood !

I spent three years as a "useless son-in-law," humiliated in public by my wife, all to repay a debt of life-saving gratitude.
That night, she handed me a cup of poisoned wine, smiling as she told me to "disappear from this world."
But she didn't know that the wine served to terminate our contract of protection—and unchained my shackles completely.
When the fighter jets of the Northern Command cast their shadows over the entire estate, she finally knelt in the mud, crying out for "Adrian."
But this time, I will not look back.

When Sarah is forced to accept a marriage proposal in place of her half sister, Veronica, she never imagined the man would be Edward Huxley.
Edward Huxley, the formidable owner of Huxley Airline and Shipping Company and the most eligible billionaire bachelor in the country, is shocked and enraged when he discovers that the woman in his bed is not Veronica, as he expected, but the unknown and seemingly bland illegitimate Maxwell daughter. Their encounter ends in an unplanned one night stand.
When Veronica learns of Edward's true identity, she decides she wants him for herself. Together with her mother, she accuses and humiliates Sarah.
Heartbroken and shattered, Sarah leaves the country. Four years later, she returns as a different woman with a successful career and her adorable twins, who share the unmistakable features of the country's billionaire heartthrob, Edward Huxley.
Edward is stunned by her transformation and finds himself falling for her all over again. Determined to win her heart, he sets out to rebuild their family. But will he succeed, or is he already too late with the enigmatic Benicio always by Sarah's side, his eyes filled with love and devotion?

“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.

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.

I have everything in my life all figured out. My job in a Manhattan empire is perfect, allowing me to maintain a quiet and organized existence. After a childhood filled with painful memories, abuse, and a useless mother, this sense of security is a necessity for me. But along with it comes a problem that could disrupt everything I thought I needed.

My promotion places me in close proximity to Jacob Carrero, a young, incredibly attractive, and playboy billionaire with a notorious reputation. I now find myself stuck as his right-hand man, spending every waking moment with him. It doesn't take long for me to realize that he's exactly the type of person who could drive me crazy, and not in a good way. We're like chalk and cheese. He's impulsive, confident, laid-back, dominant, and enjoys casual sex and dating without much thought. I, on the other hand, am compulsive, reserved, and cautious.

Despite his carefree attitude, Jacob is the only one who can break through my composed exterior. He's not phased by my closed-off demeanor and cool manners. But as much as I may want to, letting him into my heart is another thing entirely. My painful past has made me wary of men, and I have no desire to let anyone get close enough to hurt me again.

However, Jacob Carrero is not someone who takes no for an answer. He wants to be more than just another person seeing my façade, who is learning how to break through my defenses.

What should I do?

"Do it! Rape me!" She screamed, from the top of her lungs, challenging the beast in him.

He laughed, genuinely, loudly.
"You have no idea what you're doing to me, right, kitten?" he asked, reaching for his belt.

"That little biting your lip thingy, you do, whenever you check me out- it's driving me crazy.

The shivers traveling over your body, when I spanked you- turned me on so bad, I had to restrain myself from pinning your body against the wall, and fucking you in the hall.

And now, your scent, it's literally inviting me. I could smell your arousal from miles away, the scent making my mouth water and beast go crazy.

And your body- holy Moon Goddess- that body of yours is divine. Without a doubt, I could praise and savour it day after day, and never get tired."

***Evangeline is a simple human girl, born and raised in shifter dominated town. One day she is captured by a group of shifters and almost get raped, but she is saved by a masked man.

Doubts about the stranger's identity and fear of shifter remain in her mind until the night of human mating games when she's captured by her savior. The man who never took off the mask, a powerful shifter-Eros.

***PLEASE NOTE: This is a complete series collection for The Unwanted Alpha Series by  K. K. Winter. This includes and . Seperate books from the series are available on the author page.

“What happened?” I ask hoarsely.
“Jane, you’ve had a shock.” The doctor said gently. “You fainted.”
A sense of foreboding slices straight through me.
The physician is smiling now. “You fainted because you’re pregnant.”
WHAT!! I just have been divorced for like one month!?


My husband never gives me pleasure. He hasn’t for years now. He seeks nothing but to claim me as roughly and thoroughly as he possibly can - and remind me of my proper place.
This is what I have to look forward to: a lifetime of pain… unless I finally do what I’ve been planning over the last few months, and ask Ethan for a divorce.I didn’t even know it was possible for an omega to leave an Alpha until recently. Legally, we have almost no rights, but I could request a divorce. Now it is the time.


Ethan and Jane were childhood sweethearts. However, he is alpha and she is omega. It was almost impossible for them to be fated mate. Ethan did not give up but chose Jane to be his wife and luna. But Fate sure knows how to run with a bit. This young couple messes up their first marriage by lack of trust. Divorce is easy. But what about finding out you were pregnant
after divorce?What if you had quadruplets?

Everyone knows that the most powerful alpha in the werewolf world is Harrison. There are many legends about him. One of the most mysterious things is that he never announced his Luna. For six years, he hadn't talked about his mate, and no woman could get near him.
……
Six years later, Kayla. returned to the city where she lived. In one encounter, Harrison, with red eyes and a hoarse voice, pressed her against the wall and said, “Do you think your tears still work for me?”
Kayla looked down and did not speak. Suddenly a crisp child's voice sounded. “Mommy, what are you doing here?”
Looking at the little girl, his pupils constricted.
“Is this your daughter?” He asked.
……
“So you broke up with the father? He got you and dumped you and your daughter?”
Harrison threw his cigar into the ashtray, the corners of his mouth twitching with anger.
“Tell me who the father is and I'll make him pay.”
Kayla looked at the man she had missed for six years. She didn't know how to tell her that he was the father.

“Stop.” She breathed against his lips. “Fondling me wasn’t a part of the ‘one kiss’ offer.” She grinned, leaning forward to press a fleeting kiss on his parted lips. A bold move even for her but the look in his eyes made it worth the shift in her priority.

The words to respond were sparse. He’d never had someone melt into his arms so willingly. Nor had a woman ever asked him to stop once the act was under way. He untangled himself from her and watched as she smoothed her hair and skirts, “Am I decent?” she had the gall to ask him.

“A misfortune to mine eyes.” He commented as a silence fell over them.

“It was a pleasure meeting your acquaintance.” Her eyes sparkled mischievously.

“A pity it must be cut short.” He teased, waiting for her to either sink into him or leave so that he may relieve himself.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Mendora had finally caught her breath, recalling Ginger would be on the lookout for her by now so that even if she wanted to stay, it was impossible, “I have been away for too long.”


Mendora Agnus Garrick, a young debutante prone to appallingly unusual notions had found herself doing that which she had sworn off...falling in love and with notorious rake Solaire Gidean Demaris, a man unlikely to consider the prospect of marriage or love.


@authorqueenofsarcasm_18 on IG

“I will not listen to any more of your insolent behaviour boy. You brought this on yourself. You marked this young woman and now you must take her as yours.”

In that instant Ziza felt her heart shrivel, die and plummet deep into the bottom of her acidic stomach. Take her as his? Her hand in marriage? Surely the king wouldn’t be so cruel that he would give her hand in marriage to his beast of a son.

She just lost her job, lost her boyfriend, and was tortured by her half-siblings and their mother. And this was what she got—marrying a ruthless, cold prince who’d slapped her and insulted her?!

Would she have even a glimmer of hope in this arranged marriage?