Is Death In The Dorm Novel Available As A PDF?

“What do you think people would say if they found out you don’t have a dick?” Christian asked, his voice low and dripping with seduction. His hand pressed firmly against my crotch, fingers exploring the flat, unfamiliar emptiness there. A devilish smirk curved his lips. “Or if they discovered these voluptuous breasts you’ve been hiding so well?” A strangled moan slipped from my throat as his hand slid under my shirt, his fingers brushing over my hardened nipples, teasing them with slow, deliberate strokes. “Which do you think they’d call you?” he murmured, eyes gleaming. “A boy with tits… or a dickless little fraud?” I stared into his hungry blue eyes, words failing me. “The term you’re looking for is ‘girl,’” came Xavier’s smooth voice from the bathroom doorway. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click, his gaze raking over me with open interest. “So tell me, little girl… what the hell is someone like you doing in an all-boys dorm?” Christian’s smirk widened. “She wants to be devoured by boys like us.” His fingers gave my nipple one last firm pinch before he leaned in closer, breath hot against my ear. “And I’m more than happy to give her a taste.”

When 19 year old Lola transfers to the elite Westbridge University, she expects academic rigor, late night cramming, and maybe a few college parties. What she doesn’t expect is to be sandwiched between two dangerously sexy roommates the brooding senior with a wicked tongue, and the golden boy football captain who’s got her name on his lips. What starts as innocent flirtation quickly spirals into stolen glances, dripping secrets, and wild nights no textbook could prepare her for. Between late night dares, forbidden threesomes, and feelings she swore she wouldn’t catch, Lola finds herself drowning in a world of lust, drama, and dangerously addictive passion. But secrets in Westbridge don’t stay secret forever. And when jealousy, obsession, and betrayal enter the chat, Lola must decide: is it just sex… or is it something more? In college, there are no rules. Just bodies. And consequences.

Disguised as a boy. Hunted as a mate. Trained to be an Alpha. Ari never wanted to be anyone’s Luna—especially not to Alpha Malrick, the ruthless Alpha she was being forced to marry. To escape her fate she changes her identity. She cuts her hair, masks her scent, and joins the all-male Alpha Training Academy, where strength reigns and weakness is punished. But something else is waiting for her. Her dorm mate Kai Thorn the arrogant, cocky, and devastatingly attractive heir to the Shadowfang Pack is her mate. The mate bond starts burning between them… and he has no idea she’s a girl. When her secret is exposed, Arden must fight for more than freedom. The academy turns on her. Malrick wants revenge. And Kai? He’ll risk everything to keep her safe—even if it means going against everything he stands for.

When dorm picks opened, two beds were left. My hometown girl, Chloe Parker, beat me by a step and grabbed Room 501—the honors suite. That left me with Room 502, the rich-girl suite. In 501, the try-hards rode her nonstop. She made grad school. In 502, I ran errands and pulled five grand a month. At graduation, she snapped and shoved me off the roof. "It's all your fault. Without you, I wouldn't wake up every day buried in studying. How'd you stack hundreds of thousands in four years while all I got was a useless grad school offer?" I opened my eyes. Dorm selection day. Behind me, Chloe shoved past and lunged forward. "I'm picking first. I want 502."

Late one night after getting off work, I was scrolling through my company group chat when a colleague shared a piece of news. The headline was horrifying. "Night-Shift Courier Murdered During Delivery, Police Suspect Robbery." I zoomed in on the crime scene photo that had been partially pixelated, and a chill ran straight down my spine. Lying in a pool of blood, the courier who had been hacked to death was unmistakably me. I had scrolled into news of my own death. Almost at the same time, my delivery app began vibrating violently. "Urgent pickup! Destination: Unit 704 Hawthorne Ridge Apartments, Building 7. Time limit: 15 minutes. Penalty for timeout: Death." As I stared at the notification that read "Pickup failed three times", the searing pain of my brutal death surged through my body. So that was it. I had already died three times. When I forced open the half-closed security door of 704 for the fourth time, a thin delivery envelope lay quietly inside. I tore it open. A photograph slipped out. It was a picture of my dismembered body. The timestamp showed tomorrow at 7:00 a.m. On the back was a single line written in fresh blood: "Next time, remember to pick it up on time." At that moment, the red indicator light on the hallway surveillance camera suddenly went dark. I looked up. From the ventilation opening in the exact same spot, a single eye was staring straight at me. The mole at the corner of that eye was identical to mine.

The doctor said I only had three days left to live. Acute liver failure. My only hope was an experimental clinical trial. It was extremely risky, but had the faintest sliver of a chance to survive. But my husband, David, gave the last available spot... to my adopted sister, Emma, also my daughter’s godmother. Her condition was still in its early stages. He said it was the "right decision," because she “deserved to live more.” I signed the papers to forgo treatment and took the high-dose painkillers prescribed by the doctor. The cost? My organs would shut down, and I would die. When I handed over the jewelry company I’d poured my heart into, along with all my designs, to Emma, my parents praised me, saying, “Now that’s what a good big sister should do.” When I agreed to divorce David so he could marry Emma, he said, “You’ve finally learned to be understanding.” When I told my daughter to call Emma ‘Mom,’ she clapped her hands and said, “Emma is such a gentle and kind mother!” When I gave all my assets to Emma, everyone in the family thought it was only natural. No one noticed anything was wrong with me. I’m just curious. Will they still be able to smile when they find out I'm dead?