Novels by Mara Sn

The snow came down so hard I could barely see the road. My rental car skidded off the narrow mountain path and slammed into a snowbank. The phone had no signal. The tank is almost empty. I was screwed.Hours later, freezing and exhausted, I started walking. The blizzard swallowed everything. Just when I thought I would die out there, strong arms grabbed me.“Easy, city girl,” a deep voice rumbled. “I got you.”The man carried me like I weighed nothing. I caught glimpses of a thick beard, broad shoulders, and flannel shirt before I passed out from the cold.I woke up in a small wooden cabin. Fire crackled in the stone hearth. A single large bed took up most of one wall. My clothes hung drying near the fire. I wore only an oversized flannel shirt that smelled like pine and man.“You’re awake.” The lumberjack stood by the stove, stirring something in a pot. He was massive — easily six-five, with thick muscles from real work. Dark hair, intense green eyes, and a presence that filled the t

The penthouse suite felt too quiet after the premiere party. I kicked off my heels and poured a glass of wine, still buzzing from the flashing cameras and endless compliments. At twenty-seven, I had become one of Hollywood’s biggest names, but the fame came with paranoia. That’s why I hired him.Damon Reyes. My personal bodyguard for the last eight months. Tall, built like a fighter, with sharp dark eyes that always seemed to watch me a little too closely. He stood by the door now, suit jacket off, sleeves rolled up on his powerful forearms.“Is everything secure?” I asked, sipping my wine.“Yes, Miss Vale,” he replied, voice low. “I checked the entire floor.”I nodded and headed toward the master bathroom. “I’m taking a long bath. No interruptions.”The hot water felt amazing on my tired body. I sank in, letting the bubbles cover me, and finally relaxed. My hand slipped between my legs almost automatically. The stress of the night needed release. I rubbed my clit slowly, thinking abo

The full moon hung heavy in the night sky, silver light pouring through the skylight of my attic ritual room. I had prepared everything carefully. Salt circle. Candles burning with sacred herbs. The ancient grimoire open on the wooden altar. Tonight I would bind a powerful shifter as my familiar. The price? My body, given willingly under the moon’s power.The air shimmered. A low growl filled the space as he materialized inside the circle. Lucian. A massive wolf shifter with midnight fur and eyes that glowed golden. In his human form he stood tall and broad, naked, every muscle carved from years of wild living. Dark hair, sharp jaw, and a presence that made the room feel smaller.“You summoned me, witch,” he said, voice rough like gravel and honey. “Most don’t survive the binding.”“I’m not most witches.” I stepped closer, wearing only a thin white robe that barely covered my curves. “I need your strength. Your power. In exchange, I offer the ritual bond.”His golden eyes raked over m

The underground auction room felt like a fever dream. Dim lights, masked guests, and the heavy scent of expensive perfume mixed with fear. I stood on the small stage wearing nothing but a sheer black slip that left almost nothing to the imagination. My hands were bound lightly in front of me. This was supposed to be one month. One month to pay off my family’s crushing debt. Then freedom.The auctioneer’s voice rang out. “Lot twenty-three. I am twenty-four years old. Healthy. Willing for the full term. Bidding starts at two million.”Numbers climbed fast. My heart was hammered. Then a deep voice cut through everything.“Ten million.”Silence fell. I looked toward the voice. He sat in the front row, perfectly still. Tall, sharply dressed in a tailored black suit, with ice-blue eyes and a face carved from stone. Alexander Voss. The ruthless billionaire whose name made people whisper. Cold. Brilliant. Untouchable.The hammer fell. Sold.They led me to a private room after the auction. He

The cursed Blackthorn Manor loomed under the full moon like something out of a nightmare. I had come prepared as a professional ghost hunter. Cameras, EVP recorders, sage, and salt. At twenty-six, I had cleared dozens of haunted locations, but this one felt different from the moment I stepped inside. The heavy oak door slammed shut behind me on its own.“Alright,” I said to the empty hall. “Show yourself.”The air grew icy. A low chuckle echoed from upstairs. I climbed the grand staircase, flashlight cutting through the dust. In the master bedroom, the temperature dropped sharply. A figure materialized near the massive four-poster bed. Tall, devastatingly handsome, dressed in an old-fashioned black shirt and trousers. Dark hair, sharp cheekbones, and eyes that glowed faintly silver.“You’re brave, little hunter,” he said, voice smooth and deep. “Most run before midnight.”I raised my camera. “Who are you?”“Lord Damien Blackthorn. This is my home. Has been for two hundred years.” He s

I sat in Professor Elias Blackwood’s office after hours, my hands trembling in my lap. The email had come at 9 p.m. sharp: “My office. Now. We need to discuss your latest paper.” I knew I was caught before I even walked through the door.Professor Blackwood leaned back in his leather chair, looking every bit the strict thirty-eight-year-old academic who made students nervous. Sharp jaw, dark hair with a touch of silver at the temples, and eyes that could pin you in place. He slid my printed paper across the desk.“Explain this,” he said coldly. “Word for word matches an obscure journal article. You’re my top student, Miss Harper. Or at least I thought you were.”My stomach dropped. “Professor, I… I was desperate. The deadline, my other classes—”“Save it.” He stood up and walked around the desk, towering over me. “Plagiarism carries serious consequences. Expulsion is on the table.”Tears stung my eyes. “Please. I’ll do anything to fix this.”He stopped right in front of me. The silenc