Who Is The Author Of Every Last Breath Book?

"I love you..." His pitch increases as rage joins in, but still, he manages to retain gentility in his voice. "...but that doesn't mean I can't slit your throat, peanut!... DON'T ANGER ME." Blood drips down my wrist as his blue eyes tore me down, I could feel my fragile, lean wrist trapped within his muscular grip. As he screamed, my heart skipped into my mouth, memories filled my head, memories on how I willingly walked into a trap set up by the devil himself. **** Cupid strikes yet again, boring a deadly arrow in her chest... Krystal Gomez begins a pursuit. Little does she know that soon, she'll become his prey.

Not belonging anywhere, Aria lived her life drifting from clique to clique. Just when she finally found her anchor by the side of the most unlikely existence, he disappears and leaves her all alone once more. Devastated and desperate, Aria sets off to find him and, along the way, learns that there may very well be a reason why she could never feel like she belonged anywhere.

Since The Fires of Alira one thousand five hundred years ago, dragons have lived separate from the other races in Midgar. They rarely make contact with others, unless in terms of conflict. Eleonora is the descendant of the dragon sovereign, and will one day assume the throne of the Perilous Horde herself. The horde, despite years of murky conflict, forges an alliance with the human kingdom of Samirya located in the northern region. It is no longer a matter of petty bickering. Now, with the eve of a Great War looming over them, both groups lives depend on a truce. As conflict thickens and land disputes grow increasingly more bitter, the chieftain of the Perilous Horde makes a final desperate move to unite the two worlds: the dragons will send an ambassador to protect the humans capital city of Mimmgar from the oncoming invasion. And who should be that ambassador be but Eleonora? Eleonora just hopes to complete that task quickly so she can return home, but soon finds that the humans are nothing like she expected. Forming an unforeseen connection with the human king, and becoming captivated by a young blacksmith, she begins to question everything she's ever known and learns that her homeland may have some terrible secrets of its own. Book one of A Dragon’s Legacy.

At twelve years old, Zevran Ilvane was already a monster in the making. He was cold, Ruthless, and a psychopath. But that all changes when his father kidnaps Vesper Grey Lysan and brings her home. Zevran takes one look at her, and she becomes the object of his obsessive devotion. Broken but desperate to survive, Vesper is ready to do whatever it takes to escape her hell, so she manipulates Zevran's obsession to her advantage. She gains his trust and promises to take him with her if he helps her escape. But she does not keep to her word. Instead, she kills his father with the weapon he gave her and runs, leaving Zevran bleeding and betrayed. But the boy she betrayed didn't die—he became something far worse. Ten years later, Zevran Ilvane is no longer a boy. He's a cold, calculating Mafia king, and he's been waiting. Watching. Planning. Vesper owes him a promise. And he intends to collect–with her body, her soul, and every breath she takes. She used his love to escape him once. Now he'll use it to break her.

Emma Garcia is the child of a famous French millionaire. In a careless one, she was kidnapped to distant Italy. During that process, Emma had many times escaped death by danger in Italy. But luckily, she met Carla Domenica - the sister of a mafia boss in the Italian underworld. One thing she could not expect, Ivan Domenica – that Italian mafia boss fell in love with her. He did not allow Emma to return to France, and he wanted to marry Emma. In front of a man with status, money, family background, and beauty like him. Emma, a girl only seventeen years old, quickly fell in love with Ivan's trap. How will their relationship progress? Will Emma be able to return to France? And is his love for her real?

I was the stand-in who looked most like my husband's first love. He put me through countless plastic surgeries, both major and minor ones, until I became her exact likeness. But then, she came back from the dead. All it took was her saying, "I don't like anyone looking like me," and he sent me right back to the operating table once more. I begged him, telling him that my body couldn't handle it anymore. Alas, he only looked at me with irritation. "Seeing that cheap imitation of her face just disgusts me," he sneered. "No matter how close you come, you'll never be her." In the end, I died on that operating table. Yet, he went mad, trying desperately to recall what I once looked like.