8058 Book(s) Related to the christmas story christmas

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."

As the New Year's Eve bells were about to toll, my fiancé, Tristan, slid an annulment agreement in front of me.
 
"Blair's New Year's wish is to experience an engagement. Just play along. After tonight, we'll reinstate our engagement."
 
Wearing my custom engagement gown, Blair looked at me with red-rimmed eyes and a pout.
 
"Sienna, if you really mind, let's just forget it. With my failing health, who knows if I'll even live to see next year..."
 
Tristan immediately grasped her hand with heartache, then turned to glare at me. "Could you stop being so selfish for once?"
 
Throughout our three-year relationship, I had compromised time and time again, all because of his favorite excuse: "She's been sickly since childhood. As her childhood friend, I promised to grant her one New Year's wish every year."
 
My fingers brushed against the ultrasound photo in my pocket—the pregnancy confirmation I hadn't yet had the chance to show him. Looking at the face of the man I had loved for three years, I felt like an absolute joke.
 
"Fine, you both have my blessing."
 
I took the pen and signed my name without a hint of hesitation.
 
The stolen dress, along with my fiancé—I didn't want either of them anymore.

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.

For five years, Alpha Ethan hid Maya—the mate he had marked and the Luna his pack never knew existed.
Whenever he abandoned her for another woman, he gave Maya a blood-signed token promising her anything she desired.
After his hundredth broken promise, Maya finally used them.
Not for wealth. Not for revenge.
She asked to dissolve their mate bond and leave his pack forever.
Only when the bond shattered did Ethan realize what he had lost. But beyond his borders, the feared Rogue Alpha was already waiting to offer Maya everything Ethan never did:
A home. A family. And the chance to become someone’s first choice.

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.

The morning of our wedding, Dante Russo led the hit that wiped out my family.
Branded a traitor, stripped of my name, I spent three years scrubbing blood from dog kennels at the docks. I lost my hands, my music, and three babies I never got to hold.
Then I learned the truth: there was no hit. My parents and the man I loved staged it all—to teach me a lesson, because my adopted sister Isabella cried that I’d hurt her.
Now Dante is marrying Isabella. And he wants me there on my knees, pouring her champagne.
I said yes.
But I bled out on the concrete the night before.
They think I’m sulking. They smash everything I ever gave them to punish me for not showing up.
And when my body is finally wheeled into their wedding in a black bag, the most dangerous men in Gotham City will learn what they’ve done.
Too late.

"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.

Chase Harrington hadn't willingly spoken to me since I hit puberty and got fat.

So, when my childhood best friend actually handed me a Diet Coke on the morning of our Yale alumni interviews, I should've known it was a trap. Instead, my stupid heart fluttered. I thought he still cared.

I drank it.

When I woke up, my hair covered the hardwood floor.

Sloane Kensington, the undisputed queen bee of our school, stood over me holding scissors. "Damn, Chase. Those sleeping pills worked like a charm. Homegirl is practically bald."

I looked at Chase in disbelief.

The boy who used to promise we'd get married just checked his phone.

"Sloane lost a game of Truth or Dare," he said, sounding completely bored. "If she didn't cut your hair, she'd have to go hit on some freak on the street. Besides, it's not like you've got an image to maintain, Gwen. You're fat. It's just hair. Deal with it."

That was the exact moment the boy I loved died to me.

I didn't yell or cry. I just opened my laptop and changed my college application from Yale to Stanford—three thousand miles away on the West Coast.

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.

I was the long-lost Whitmore heiress, finally brought home after eighteen years in the system.

I'd been home for exactly two days when my adopted sister brought me a cake, and my mother urged me to eat it, her smile dripping with fake warmth.

[Don't eat it.]

The words flashed in red across my vision.

[It's a soul-swap curse. Your mother knows. She wants you to trade bodies with the fake heiress so you'll take the fall for Camille's enemies and die, while Camille keeps your healthy body to live in luxury.]

My hands trembled, but not from fear. I burst into tears, sobbing that I wanted to save it for my birthday tomorrow.

Later that night, I snuck back to the group home. I fed the cake to my best friend in the wheelchair—the only person in this world who actually deserved a miracle.

Now? Camille is screaming, trapped in my friend's broken, disabled body. And my mother is scrambling to undo a spell that's permanent.

They thought I was easy prey. But they forgot—I grew up in a place where you fight to survive.

My ex-boyfriend told me to divorce my "nobody" husband to become his secret mistress, completely unaware that my husband is the Supreme Mafia Godfather.
"Divorce that loser, Valeria. I'm a Capo now. I can give you the world," Gideon smirked, tossing a cheap gala pass at my feet.
I looked at the coward who abandoned me in a shootout three years ago and actually laughed. Give up my throne as the Donna of North America’s most powerful syndicate to be a street thug's dirty secret?
At the Blood Oath Gala, I'll show him that I am no longer the woman I was three years ago.

When my best friend’s biological father found her, she became the heiress to a crime family.

I was the extra baggage she insisted on bringing home. My greatest talent? Making one penny do the work of eight.

She handed me $450 million and put me in charge of the family’s new project.

I couldn’t bear to spend it. I paid out just $7,500.

Then the project collapsed. The family’s captains turned against her, and a rival boss showed up with his men waiting downstairs.

The girl who’d been raised in her place slid a transfer agreement across the table.

“Give me your shares. Walk away from the family. And I’ll make sure your gold-digging little friend gets out alive.”

With tears in her eyes, my best friend pressed her last bank card into my hand.

But I couldn’t stop staring at two words in the agreement:

Without compensation.

Before she could sign, I lunged forward and tore it to pieces.

“Hold on.”

“For seventy-five hundred dollars, you get the docks, the house—and her?”

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?

Grant postponed our engagement three times. First, because Vivian was in the hospital. Second, because she was feeling low. Third, because her concert mattered more than our future.

So I asked the man who’d always been there—Adrian Kessler.

“Are you interested in marrying me?” He said yes without hesitation.

We set the date for the same night as Vivian’s concert.

While Grant was clapping for her, I was walking down the aisle toward the only man who never made me wait.

He didn’t find out until he showed up to his own celebration dinner and found the restaurant empty. “Where is everyone?” he demanded. Someone laughed.

“Adrian and Nadia are getting engaged tonight. It’s streaming live.”

Grant stormed into my ceremony, screaming that I belonged to him.

Adrian knocked him down with one punch.

“You had three chances,” I told him. “You blew every one.”

Now Grant keeps sending me flowers, begging for another chance. But I’m wearing a pink diamond tiara designed just for me, standing beside a man who chose me first.

He postponed our engagement three times. I only needed one chance to marry the right man.

I was Elara, a wingless half-sprite. The lowest of the low in the Obsidian Court. My job was to clean up the mess left by the dragons.
But right now, the biggest mess was inside my own stomach.
I was pregnant. With the Dragon King's child.
He didn't remember that night. He only remembered waking alone — and swearing to crush whoever had touched him into dust.
So I said nothing. I served him. I hid. And the three little voices only I could hear kept whispering the one thing I couldn't believe: that scary dragon is soft on you, girl.
Then my belly began to leak his golden aura, and his jealous betrothed smelled it first.
When the King learned the truth, he didn't rage. He looked at my stomach and said the child could not stay.
He never told me why.
So while he was away at war, I climbed onto the Sky Bridge over the endless Void — and I jumped. Better to fall than to let them take my baby.
I never expected something down there to catch me.

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 ".

My Alpha marked my cousin in front of the entire pack.
And after eight years by his side, I became everyone’s favorite joke.
They called me jealous. A liar. They said I was the one who couldn’t let go. No one believed that I was the one who had been betrayed.
Worse, when I went into Heat and needed him most, Jason left me to suffer through it alone.
I was in so much pain I could barely think, and no one cared.
Then Henry showed up at my door. The ruthless Alpha from an enemy pack.
He knew I was in Heat, but he never tried to take advantage of me.
Instead, he handed me his coat, his scent still clinging to the fabric, kept everyone else away, and murmured,
“Be my Mate.”
I said yes. Because by then, I had nothing left to lose.
Everyone assumed Henry had Claimed me just to get under Jason’s skin.
But eventually, I began to realize there was more to it.
The way Henry looked at me wasn’t the way an Alpha looked at an Omega he barely knew.
He remembered things about me that even I had forgot

The End Times Came, and I Awakened the Ability to Grow Vegetables

Every time I catalyzed a vegetable, it drained my stamina and life force.

But my sister Lucy needs to eat, and everyone in the camp needs to eat.

So I gave my life to the soil, exchanging life for food again and again.

Cult leader Silas patted my shoulder and said I was God's gardener, that Eden was born because of me.

I thought I had found a home.

I distributed the vegetables I grew to everyone in the camp.

Until I discovered the blue-green veins on my sister's arm.

Until I discovered that the bottle of "holy water" I fed her every day wasn't medicine at all.

Until I discovered that my sister had been sent to their altar.

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“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.

In the delivery room, several nurses pinned me down on the operating table.

They were going to forcibly take my eight-month-old baby out of me.

The pain was tearing me apart. I locked my eyes on my husband Xavier Davis, who was standing to the side, and screamed at him in a hoarse voice.

"You animal! That's your child too. How can you do this to him..."

Xavier stared at me, his face completely blank. He didn't say a single word.

"Hurry up! Mia needs the cord blood!"

Julia, standing next to Xavier, snapped impatiently at the doctor.

She was Xavier's stepmother, only two years older than him. Her husband had died not long after she got pregnant, and Xavier had been taking care of her ever since.

Recently, Julia's one-year-old daughter was diagnosed with leukemia. She needed a newborn's cord blood for a transplant, so she set her sights on my baby.

And Xavier agreed to it. That was when I found out the two of them had been sleeping together for a long time.

Julia had nearly bled to death giving birth to their daughter, and lost any chance of having another child.

"What's going on? Her water already broke. Why isn't the baby coming?" The doctor was sweating with anxiety.

Julia picked up a pair of scissors and handed them to the doctor, her voice completely casual.

"Just cut open her uterus. Then the baby comes out."

My eyes went wide with shock. I shook my head desperately. "No. Please, no..."

I was born the true heiress of the powerful Voss family, but after being swapped at birth and failing to awaken my wolf, I was branded as worthless trash.
For six years, I worked as a "Scavenger" in the underground slums. I hauled mutant corpses, endured silver poisoning, and swallowed cheap suppressants—all to pay off my husband’s massive debts and buy the cure for my brother’s fatal blood disease.
Today, I finally handed my brother the life-saving medicine. 
He casually tossed it into the trash. "I'm not sick, Isolde. Oh, and Mom and Dad aren't dead either. I orchestrated that highway explosion six years ago. You were the only one meant to be crippled."
My blood ran cold. 
Jaxson, my supposedly bankrupt Alpha husband, adjusted his Rolex. "I never lost my company, either. Whenever I said I was working late at the docks, I was actually sleeping in my Manhattan penthouse. Honestly, the corpse stench on you was making me gag. We just wanted to end this little game."
I stared at the men I had sacrificed my soul for. Why?
My parents stepped out from the shadows, holding Violet—the fake daughter who stole my life—protectively in their arms. "Because you were too arrogant! We had to break your spirit so you'd stop bullying Violet. This 'trial' was for your own good!"
They thought this ultimate betrayal would finally force me to submit and beg for their forgiveness. 
But as my heart shattered into dust, the legendary Silver Wolf bloodline—dormant for 24 years—finally tasted the extreme despair it needed to awaken.
My eyes bled from amber to piercing silver. 
Fine, my inner wolf whispered. Let's show them what a true monster looks like.

Getting pregnant by her boss after a one-night stand and suddenly leaving her job as stripper was the last thing Serena had hoped for, and to make matters worse he is the heir to the mafia.

Serena is calm while Christian is fearless and outspoken but somehow the two have to make it work. When Christian forces Serena to go through with a fake engagement she tries her hardest to fit in the family and the luxurious life the women live while Christian is fighting as hard as he can to keep his family safe, but everything takes a turn when the hidden truth about Serena and her birth parents comes out.

Their idea was to play pretend until the baby was born and the rule was to not fall in love, but plans don't always go as expected.

Will Christian be able to protect the mother of his unborn child?

And will they end up catching feelings for one another?

Play the BDSM game with the mafia triplets

"You were ours from the second we set eyes on you."

"I don't know how long it's going to take you to realize that you belong to us." One of the triplets said, yanking my head back to meet his intense eyes.

"You are ours to fúck, ours to love, ours to claim and use in any way we want. Isn't that right, darling?" The second one added.

"Y….yes, sir." I breathed.

"Now be a good girl and spread your legs, let's see what a needy little mess our words have made you." The third one added.


Camilla witnessed a murder made by masked men and luckily ran away. On her way to find her disappeared father, she crosses paths with the world's most dangerous mafia triplets who were the killers she met before. But she didn’t know it...

When the truth was revealed, she was taken to the triplets’ BDSM club. Camilla has no way to run, the mafia triplets would do anything to keep her as their little slut.

They are willing to share her but is she going to submit to the three of them?

The gods' realms have fallen into war, and the mortal world, while unaware, is feeling the effects. Whispers of a plague that turns people into monsters ripple to every end of the earth, but no one can stop the sickness.

The Gold Moon Pack has thrived in chaos before, but the long respected alpha has only just handed the reins to his son, Henry. It’s the ultimate test for a new Alpha, and his Luna, Dorothy. If he fails, he’ll be one of many that could not save his people during the mass extinction of the mortal world. If he succeeds, history will paint him on banners until the end of time.

But the path out of darkness is overgrown with deceit, violence, and tragedy.

Choices are made.

Family bonds break.

Peace never lasts.

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

RISE OF THE ALPHA KING is an episodic style continuation of The Green Witch Trilogy/Dragon Keep Me/and The Toad Prince storylines. This story will see the events of Ceres’ trilogy: Loved by Fate, Kissed by Sun, and Touched by Chaos, played out from the Point of Views of our mortal world characters.

For the most part, I will be writing from the viewpoints of:

Henry

Dot

Jillian

Odin

and Gideon.

BUT, it could be anyone from the original books.

As with much of my writing, just be aware I write realistic stories. If it’s violence, it's violent. If it’s sexual assault, it’s traumatizing. I want to evoke strong emotion. I want you to laugh and cry and cheer for my characters like they’re your friends. So yes, TRIGGER WARNINGS.

BUT, of course there are erotic scenes! There is still a lot of romance, love, and laughter, too.

This story will be updated with (3,000-5,000) words one time per week, on Wednesday, until completed.

"Do what?'', I asked nervously. Damn, I am getting wet having him so close to me.

He smirks and says, "lick you up and down".

Before I can respond he lifts me place me on the counter snugs between my legs and starts kissing and licking me.

His tongue reaches my neck and I shiver. I grew wetter than I already was.

My body was getting hot, my common sense was gone, and I moved my bottom half closer to him.

Hinting to him that I want his fingers inside me. And he did just that, he slid one finger into me. As I got lost in the pleasure, he slid another finger into me.

"AHHHH...HARDER'', lost in the pleasure, I was on the verge of begging for more.


After her divorce, Cleo promised herself that she was done with men. And because of her history, she is determined to stay away from shifters as well. She didn't want a relationship or friendship with a man or a shifter.

However, her best friend Jazz just so happens to be mated with a shifter. A shifter who is the Beta of the most feared pack in America. For some reason, Cleo is drawn to the brother of her best friend mate. As fate will have it a fire happened. Leaving Jazz and Cleo to stay with the Alpha and Beta.

Valenzano wanted his mate for many years. One day he meets his mate who is human. A human who has a bad past with shifters. To not scare her away from him, West and her best friend Jazz keep it a secret that Cleo is Valenzano's mate.

Will Cleo be willing to be Valenzano's mate?
Read the spicy story to find the answer.

Reader description is advised this book contains, strong sexual content, strong language, and violence.

Alpha werewolves should be cruel and merciless with unquestionable strength and authority, at least that’s what Alpha Charles Redmen believes and he doesn’t hesitate to raise his kids to be the same way.
Alpha Cole Redmen is the youngest of six born to Alpha Charles and Luna Sara Mae, leaders of the Red Fang pack. Born prematurely, Alpha Charles rejected him without hesitation as weak and undeserving of his very life. He is reminded daily of his father’s hatred for him paving the way for the rest of his family to become the same.
By adulthood, his father’s hatred and abuse towards him has spilled over into the rest of the pack making him the scapegoat for those with the sadistic need to see him suffer. The rest are simply too afraid to even look his way leaving him little in the way of friends or family to turn to.
Alpha Demetri Black is the leader of a sanctuary pack known as Crimson Dawn. It’s been years since a wolf has made their way to his pack via the warrior’s prospect program but that doesn’t mean he’s not looking for the tell tale signs of a wolf in need of help.
Malnourished and injured upon his arrival, Cole’s anxious and overly submissive demeanor lands him in the very situation he’s desperate to avoid, in the attention of an unknown alpha.
Yet somehow through the darkness of severe illness and injury he runs into the very person he’s been desperate to find since he turned eighteen, his Luna. His one way ticket out of the hell he’s been born into.
Will Cole find the courage needed to leave his pack once and for all, to seek the love and acceptance he’s never had?

Content Warning: This story contains descriptions of mental, physical and sexual abuse that may trigger sensitive readers. This book is intended for adult readers only.