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The woman standing there was nobody that Scars had ever laid eyes on before, but holy God, he knew her. He knew her on a cellular level. In his blood. In his bones. In his heart and in his cock. He’d dreamed about her and he’d waited for her. He’d been looking for her forever, and now here she was. ** Six years ago, Zoe Parish fled Denver after a brutal encounter with a motorcycle club man, swearing never to trust one again. Now a mother and desperate to help her oldest friend, she returns when Wolf Connor promises his club is out of the life and she’ll be safe. Back in Denver, Zoe keeps her guard up, especially around Scars, whose effect on her is far more unsettling than she wants to admit. Vic “Scars” Innis has spent twenty-two years loyal to the Road Devils, earning his place as Vice-President. He thought he was content, until he meets Zoe. From the first look, he knows she’s the missing piece, even if she despises everything he represents. As danger closes in and an enemy threatens to destroy their fragile peace – and take Zoe’s child – Scars and Zoe are forced to confront their pasts and each other. The question is whether their bond will make them stronger… or finally tear them apart for good.

"I'm sorry, but this flight is overbooked. We're going to compensate you twenty dollars. Please deplane immediately." The head flight attendant had my suitcase in a death grip. Her tone wasn't a request—it was an order. I gave her a cold look, then turned my gaze to the man beside us, who had just been escorted onto the plane, draped in designer labels. "Why does he get to board after showing up late, while I—who paid full price—am being forced off?" She let out a mocking laugh and lowered her voice to taunt me. "Because he's the son of a top-tier medical conglomerate in Scallow City. He's rushing there to beg an elusive miracle doctor—the famous Phantom Surgeon—to save his life. "No matter how urgent your business is, can it really compare to a human life? If you delay Mr. Stafford, ten lives couldn't pay for it. Now get off." Several security guards dragged me off the plane by force as I watched the cabin doors close. I laughed in sheer disbelief. The "Mr. Stafford" she was talking about was William Stafford, and he was terminally ill. What she didn't know was that I was the very "Phantom Surgeon" his entire family had been on their knees begging for three months—pleading with me to fly to Scallow City and perform his surgery today. Since they threw me off the plane, I won't be doing that operation. As for William, he can go ahead and wait for death.

10 years earlier, Jason drives down a dark deserted road on his way home from a birthday party, when he sees a red haired woman walking along side the road. Picking her up, he finds out that she is not what he thinks she is. Instead, he ends up losing his soul. Spending the next 10 years of his life looking over his shoulder, he eventually comes to the realization that the only way to get his soul back is to kill her. Does he find and kill her or does she haunt him for eternity. Find out in The Soul Eater.

One night a young boy unable to cultivate falls into a cave and changes his destiny forever. Orphaned, unable to cultivate, ridiculed by all, the boy who fought with bones has a bone to pick with all those who wronged him and a mystery to uncover.

****Excerpt**** “You see yourself as ordinary,” he said softly. “But entire worlds have crumbled and come apart for far less than a woman of your beauty.” He pushed his horn further again, filling her another inch. Her flame flared white-hot behind her ribs. Begging, pleading, clawing. “That’s it, my little whore. You like that, don’t you?” he preened against the corner of her mouth. His voice hit her harder than the horn. Dirty, cruel, worshipful. The word whore sent heat spiralling down her spine, making her clench around the invasion. She hated the word. She loved how he said it. “Please…” She started. He squeezed her throat, cutting off the rest of her words. Her breath hitched violently at the pressure, but she surrendered to the feeling. “Unless you are about to beg me to fuck your ass harder with this horn, I don’t want to hear how you can’t take any more.” He growled, low and threatening. A wave of want crashed into her so hard she whimpered. Adelaide should have been scared. In a way, she was. It wasn’t fear that made her heart pound, it was the terrifying realisation that she wanted exactly what he demanded. She wanted to feel the thickness of his horn deep inside her, wanted the stretch, the pain, the pleasure. She wanted all of what she knew he could give her. She leaned her head back to run her tongue over the seam of his lips. “Fuck me harder.” She said softly, the words barely a whisper. They carried the desperation, surrender, hunger, devotion, need. Her voice trembled with the weight of what she was giving him. Of what she was asking him to do to her. He growled. The sound vibrated through her, deep and possessive.

Four years after my death, my wife—the CEO—was desperate. Her first love was dying of an incurable disease, and I was the only surgeon in the world who could save him. To force me out of hiding, she ran my mother down with her car, leaving her brain-dead with no chance of recovery. She had my father hanged from a tree beside my grave—while he was still alive. Then she went live on social media, threatening to burn my younger sister to death. She was waiting for me—the selfish man, in her eyes—to come crawling back, beg for mercy, and agree to operate on her one true love. But then her men finally looked into my records. "Boss... he's been dead for four years. "He died on the very day he gave you his heart."