How Accurate Is Stark: The Life And Wars Of John Stark As A Historical Novel?

She tended to her in-laws, using her dowry to support the general's household. But in return, he sought to marry the female general as a reward for his military achievements. Barrett Warren sneered. "Thanks to the battles Aurora and I fought and our bravery against fierce enemies, you have such an extravagant lifestyle. Do you realize that? You'll never be as noble as Aurora. You only know how to play dirty tricks and gossip with a bunch of ladies." Carissa Sinclair turned away, resolutely heading to the battlefield. After all, she hailed from a military family. Just because she cooked and cleaned for him didn't mean she couldn't handle a spear!

⚠️ WARNING! * 18+ Mature audience only* Dreg watched as she walked over to the fireplace to get warmth. “You cower away from my presence, tell me Ilena do you not want this marriage?” “It is my duty as a princess of Thane to serve as your tribute.” She stated softly. It was an answer but not the answer that Dreg was expecting. Her statement only meant that she was willing to be married to him just to fulfil her duty as a tribute and that irks him. He raised her chin up to face him. “Then don’t cower away from my touch, you are my wife now not the princess of Thanes.” ****** The Northern beast king of Sulcar requests a tribute from the Eastern kingdom of Thanes and what better tribute than Ilena, the wretched princess of Thanes. Through a sudden marriage to the Northern beast king, Ilena is thrust into a whole new world that she could never have fathom. She discovers the hidden secrets buried in the blood of the Sulcarns and is faced with hurdles of being a worthy queen and a worthy mate for the ruthless beast king. Join Ilena through the roller coaster of adventures, betrayals, thriller and not to forget, the steamy romance that brews between her and the Northern King.

In Chicago's underworld, power is currency and loyalty is bought in blood. Jameson Connelly needs a wife to claim his throne. Catarina Vitale needs an escape from her gilded cage. Their arranged marriage should be simple—a business transaction, nothing more. Except nothing about this is simple. To the world, Catarina is the perfect Italian princess: refined, untouchable, ornamental. The truth is far more dangerous. She's been trained since childhood to wield blades with lethal precision, her family's most lethal weapon hidden behind designer dresses and polite smiles. When Jameson discovers her midnight blade work and weapons collection, all bets are off. He's grumpy, commanding, and impossibly sexy—everything she shouldn't want. She's lethal, sarcastic, and hiding secrets that could shatter his world. The attraction between them is instantaneous and absolutely forbidden. But their marriage has painted targets on both families' backs. Rival factions circle like sharks, and assassination attempts multiply as quickly as the stolen glances between newlyweds. When Jameson's uncle emerges as a threat from within, Cat must decide how far she'll go to protect the man she's sworn to resent. And Jameson must choose between the empire he's always wanted and the woman he never expected to need. In a world where trust is weakness and love is a liability, they'll have to forge something stronger than steel to survive. A gritty slow-burn mafia romance featuring grumpy meets curvy, sharp banter, dangerous secrets, and the kind of tension that burns hotter than any fire.

I knew my husband, Josh Perkins, had faked his death and taken on his younger twin brother's identity—but I never said a word. Instead, I went straight to the commander of the military district and filed an official report of my husband's death, requesting his name be permanently removed from the service rolls. In my last life, my brother-in-law died in an accident. Josh gave up his rank as regimental commander, abandoned his own name, and stepped into his brother's shoes—all to spare his fragile sister-in-law from becoming a widow. Back then, I recognized him immediately. I confronted him and demanded to know why he was pretending to be a dead man. But Josh just looked through me, cold as a winter morning. "Riley, I know you're grieving Josh. But I'm not him. Don't mistake me for my brother." He shielded that delicate sister-in-law of his behind him, then shoved me into the icy river and warned me not to harbor delusions. Later, our five-year-old daughter cried, asking why her daddy didn't want her anymore. For that, she was dragged to the cowshed for "reflection"—left there, starving, for three days and nights. My mother-in-law called me a curse, a jinx who'd killed her son, and threw my daughter and me out with nothing but the clothes on our backs. Josh made sure everyone knew I'd "gone mad"—that I was lusting after my brother-in-law before my husband was even cold in the ground. The whole town turned their backs on us. That last winter, I wandered the streets with my girl, dazed and numb, until the cold finally took us both. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the very day Josh buried his old life and stole his brother's.

I gave Julian Marchetti thirty years of my life after the war ended. I built his empire, raised his children, and held the family together behind the scenes. But when he died, his will didn’t even mention my name. Half his fortune went to our children. The other half went to Lydia Carter, the daughter of the man who’d saved his life in Normandy. The same Lydia who’d stolen my identity.The same Lydia who’d built her entire life on the ruins of mine. All he left me was a single note, scrawled in his familiar handwriting. I loved you. We had thirty good years. But I owe Lydia. This is the least I can do. I dropped dead of a heart attack right there in his study, clutching that pathetic piece of paper. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn in 1945, when the war had just ended This time I will not swallow my anger and suffer in silence; I will fight back. And I will take back every single thing that is rightfully mine.

BASTARD SON OF THE VIKINGS Palermo does not forgive. Neither does it forget. When Guerrero Valenti, the feared leader of the Vikings, vanished, the city exhaled a dangerous calm—but only for a moment. In the shadows, enemies waited. Rivals sharpened their knives. And one woman bore a secret that could ignite every street in the city. Lucia Romano carried the child of a man who had disappeared into legend and rumor. A son who had not been claimed, not protected, not named. The city whispered of him with venom: the bastard of the Vikings. The boy was fragile, but he was a storm waiting to erupt. And every night, Palermo tested him. Masked men tried to snatch him from his crib. Fire, steel, and blood became his lullabies. Yet he survived. Every threat only sharpened his instincts, every scream hardened his mother’s resolve. But whispers spread faster than steel through the night—rumors of a man returning. A shadow that would claim everything, sparking fear in every heart: Guerrero Valenti. The father who abandoned him. The legend whose name alone commands obedience. The storm that will rise, carrying vengeance, blood, and fire. And when he comes, Every man who dared call the bastard his enemy will fall. Every street, every roof, every whispered corner will bow to the son of Guerrero Valenti or be washed in blood. This is the story of survival. Of fire and steel. Of a mother and her son. Of a father’s return. Even the earth is getting ready to absorb blood … the blood of those who call the legitimate son of the Vikings a “BASTARD", and collect necks........the necks of those fallen by the sword of GUERRERO VALANTI. And upon his return Heads will bow to the one they called a BASTARD .