Who Is The Author Of Urn Burial?

They accused her of murder, banished her, and stripped her of one thing that made her whole. Betrayed by blood and the very people she grew to love and take care of, Aurelia Voss found herself alone in the deserted woods. But the wilderness did not eat her. It protected her, delivering her to monsters that bowed in front of her. Beasts with crimson eyes and an ancient story she is yet to unfold. But her past keeps on chasing her, the enemy hunts her from across worlds. And she has to survive. Torn between a life-changing discovery, and hiding in the human world, will Aurelia Voss ever open her heart to love when it comes in sinful suits and giant beasts? Or will she succumb to the resentment of her enemies and those wrong her?

The tale of a widow's harrowing journey through grief and peril into the cold remnants of a dead world. Damon Sharpe had in part found victory, he believed, in his battle to unearth a truth obscured by time. By autumn, he was dead, leaving to his wife Anne a house of unfulfilled wishes, remnants, and the key to the enigma of his obsession, the Mourner’s Cradle. A journey through grief and peril delivers Anne Sharpe from her home in St. Charles to the faraway skeletons of a long-dead civilization where she will find the desperate answers she seeks…or die trying. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

Before our wedding, my fiancée, Sarah Hargrave—a professor of medieval history—held a private ceremony in a secluded chapel in the countryside. But not with me. Under the glow of candlelight, she cradled Benjamin Wheeler—her first love, his face gaunt from the cancer consuming him—in her arms. Her smile was soft, almost reverent, as she murmured, "In the eyes of God, vows made before the altar are the only ones that matter. Even if the law says I belong to Daniel, my soul was never his." And so, to the faint echo of hymns and the scent of old incense, they drank from the same silver cup, exchanged rings, and stepped together into the dimly lit sacristy—their makeshift bridal chamber. I watched. Silent. Motionless. No outbursts, no demands for explanation. Just the quiet dialing of a clinic to undo the vasectomy I'd gotten for our future. From fifteen to thirty, I had loved Sarah for fifteen long years. But in all that time, there'd never been room for me. That space had always belonged to Benjamin, my stepbrother. So I let her go. Afterward, I joined a geological research team bound for the isolation of Antarctica—a land cut off from the world, quiet and clean. Before I left, I handed Sarah a divorce agreement…and a final gift to mark the end. I never anticipated that Sarah, who'd always met my devotion with frosty detachment, who'd never once glanced back as I walked away, would look ten years older overnight.

Meera Rathore has spent her life fighting against the future others chose for her. Forced into an arranged marriage with the heir of a powerful dynasty, she finds herself trapped within the walls of the Singh Palace—a place of wealth, tradition, and unsettling silence. Beyond the palace lies a forbidden forest where, during a monsoon storm, Meera encounters Laila, a mysterious woman whose beauty is rivaled only by the sorrow she carries. Drawn together by an undeniable connection, Meera soon discovers that Laila is tied to the palace's darkest secret. As forgotten histories resurface and long-buried truths emerge, Meera uncovers the stories of women erased from memory and silenced by generations of power. But some names refuse to be forgotten, and some loves refuse to die. *The Palace of Buried Names* is a haunting gothic romance about forbidden love, forgotten women, and the secrets that survive long after death.

Hidden deep in the mountains outside our town was a sealed cave filled with ancient coffins. According to local legend, one of our ancestors had died hundreds of years ago before he could marry or leave behind an heir. People believed his spirit never moved on. The town elders claimed the only way to break the curse was to choose a bride for him—someone who would be bound to him and carry on his bloodline. And for reasons I still didn’t understand, they chose me.

Sienna Calder swore she’d never touch her father’s world—Dorian Ashford, shipping mogul and billionaire king, left her mom to rot while he built his empire. She’s there to curse his grave when he dies, not to claim a dime. But his will traps her, naming her co-heir to his $50 billion legacy alongside Roman Valtieri, the brooding, hard-edged protégé who’s clawed his way into Dorian’s shadow—and now into hers. They’re to run the empire together or lose it all, and Sienna hates him for it: too slick, too close, every look a spark she doesn’t want. Then a letter from Dorian’s cold hand ignites the fire—he was murdered, and Roman’s name’s scratched beside the truth. A silver key and a vial of blood—hers, his—drag her deeper, promising answers locked in Ashford estate.But the walls crash in fast: Ezra Locke, a scarred snake with a grin like a blade, wants that key, and he’ll drown the place to get it. Roman’s her lifeline—gun drawn, hands steady, pulling her from the flood—and she loathes how his touch burns, how his voice steadies her when the water’s at her throat. Caught between rage and a pull she can’t name, Sienna fights the heat growing with every near miss—Roman’s too damn solid, too damn close, and she’s torn between shoving him away and pulling him in. The empire’s crumbling, the cliff’s falling, and Ezra’s not the only shadow circling—something darker watches, waiting. Love’s a gamble when blood’s the stake, and Sienna’s playing with a deck her father rigged. Can she trust Roman’s hands to hold her up, or will the crown they’re fighting for crush them both in its ashes?