What Awards Did The Poisonwood Bible Novel Win?

After I was reborn, I was the one who changed the name on my blood bond with Prince Mortlock. I wrote in “Isabella”—the other vampire he’d always cherished, always protected. When Isabella wanted the ruby necklace, the one that marked the Prince's Mate, I let her have it. The wedding dress Mortlock had prepared for me? I gave that to Isabella, too. I did it all because in my past life, I got my wish. I became Mortlock’s mate, but I lived every moment in Isabella’s shadow. In the end, during a battle with vampire hunters, Mortlock ran to a wounded Isabella first. I was the one left to take a silver stake through the heart. So this time, I decided to let them be. To stay far away from Mortlock. But this time, the cold, distant Prince wept and begged me to be his mate again.

Ten years ago, my daughter died in Healing Grove after the poison spread through her body. I held her cold, lifeless body in my arms, and the grief seeped so deep it settled into my bones. Her Alpha father had personally taken the only vial of antidote in the entire Healing Grove. He did it to save the daughter of his childhood sweetheart. But the girl had only scraped her knee after a fall. That day, I severed my mate bond without looking back and threw myself into the Herbalist Guild. Ten years later, I became the only witch on the entire continent capable of curing the rare wolfsbane poison. One day, the Elder Council summoned me for an emergency. A little girl had been poisoned, and they offered a reward of a million gold coins if I could save her. I accepted. But the instant I saw the patient's portrait, everything inside me went cold. I ripped the healer's badge from my chest and tore the medical file into pieces. "I refuse to treat her."

Synopsis In the Blackthorn Pack, Moana is invisible. Branded the daughter of a traitor, she has spent years cleaning floors, surviving on scraps, and enduring the hatred of wolves who believe she should have died with her father. The last thing she wants is a mate. But on the night of the Blood Moon Ceremony, the Moon Goddess chooses her anyway. Her mate is Alpha Eldrick Blackthorn—the most feared and powerful wolf in the region. The man who condemned her family. The man she has every reason to hate. Then, before the entire pack, he rejects her. With four words, Eldrick shatters the sacred bond and leaves Moana broken at his feet. Everyone believes the story is over. They’re wrong. As an ancient enemy rises and a forgotten curse awakens, strange silver markings begin spreading across Moana’s skin—markings tied to a legend older than the Blackthorn Pack itself. Soon, Eldrick discovers that the woman he cast aside may be the only one capable of saving his people. But earning her forgiveness may prove harder than winning a war. Because some wounds cut deeper than claws… …and the Moon Goddess never makes mistakes.

At least as far back as she can remember, she has always known she was different. Raised in a small town by loving grandparents and surrounded by generations of whispered traditions, she grew up learning that some things are simply known, not explained. Dreams carry warnings, family recipes heal more than the body, and the women in her family possess a gift they call "the Knowing." As she comes of age, she finds herself caught between the world she was born into and the life she hopes to build. Guided by a strong moral code, fierce loyalty, and gifts she doesn't fully understand, she must learn that family isn't always defined by blood. Set against the backdrop of Appalachian folk magic, old secrets, and deep-rooted traditions, The Knowing in Her Blood is a story of love, sacrifice, and discovering that true power lies not in where you come from, but in the family you choose and the life you are willing to fight for.

The Thornes built their aromatherapy business generations ago, but their ancestors made a fatal mistake and brought down a divine curse. For ninety-nine generations, every Thorne heir drew their punishment on their eighteenth birthday. Julian Thorne was the last. He drew the worst punishment: death from hemorrhage in ten months. The only way to break it was to marry a witch from the Old Bloodline and complete the life transference ritual. The witch inscribes a sigil on a parchment and infuses the child's blood essence on it, and the curse transfers to the parchment. I was that witch. My family owed the Thornes a blood debt going back three generations, so I married Julian, gave him a child, and performed the ritual to save his life. I was terrified of missing the ritual window, so I didn't even use anesthesia as the baby was cut out of my womb. However, Julian drove ninety-nine soul spikes into my body while I was still bleeding from the delivery, then set me on fire. "Miriam is the real heir. You're nothing but a fraud who wanted to marry up. "You drove her into the wilderness to protect your position. She went into labor alone and died with the baby. Even dying, she thought of me. She finished the ritual and saved my life. "You deceived my father. I'm destroying your soul. You'll pay for what you did to them." He ignored my screaming while he drained our newborn's blood essence. I watched helplessly as my child's life faded. Then I was nailed to a cross and burned until there was nothing left. When I opened my eyes, I was back on my wedding day.

--- River Witch Some bloodlines are bound to water. Some debts are never paid in full. When Evelyn Blake returns to the remote riverside village of Elowen after fifteen years away, she expects grief and silence—but not the whispers that rise from the mist-covered water. As bodies resurface and ghostly lights drift through the fog, Evelyn uncovers a buried legacy: a pact made generations ago between her family and a nameless spirit that haunts the river. With the curse's final reckoning approaching, Evelyn must confront the sins of her bloodline, unravel the truth behind her ancestor’s forbidden ritual, and decide whether to escape the fate written for her—or embrace it. In a village where no one speaks of the drowned, the river never forgets. And it always collects what it’s owed.