Starry Messenger

Lena Clermont fell hard for her dad's friend, Andrew Rohan—twelve years older. The first time she saw him, he was all sharp suits and broad shoulders, effortlessly standing out. He smiled, patted her head, and handed her a princess dress. Fast forward to twenty. He got drugged at a banquet. She wore that same dress, offering herself as the cure.

Ember’s world shattered the moment she was ripped from her family—her mom, her brother—and sold to Alpha Thorne, the man who killed her father. Thrown into a harsh world full of pack politics and dangerous secrets, Ember’s only goal is to survive. But everything changes the day she meets Thorne. Their bond is electric, messy, and impossible to ignore, even if neither of them wants it. Alpha Thorne is tough and ruthless, but beneath all that is a man carrying his own scars and a fierce loyalty to his pack. Ember doesn’t trust him, and she sure as hell won’t bow to him. With rival Alphas scheming, betrayals waiting around every corner, and loved ones caught in the middle, Ember is forced to make a choice: protect the family she’s trying to rebuild, or give in to the one man she swore she’d never trust. Packed with loyalty, sacrifice, and a passion hotter than any war, this story is about survival, love, and finding where you truly belong—even when everything’s against you. And in the end, the biggest war Ember will face… is the one between love and revenge. *This book starts in first person, then shifts to third person from Chapter 7 on — opening up the world to reveal complex characters and their goals.

Seraphine Hale, a genius musician, announces her return to the country. When a reporter asks whether she's back for her first love, she smiles icily. "Are you talking about that trash? It wouldn't be any of my business even if he were to drop dead tomorrow." What she doesn't know is that I've already been dead for close to a decade.

Due to one phone call, Carl Lorde left me behind in a deserted area on the highway, even though I had been pregnant for four months. I walked to a rest area to ask for help, but in the end, I was unable to keep the baby. I broke down and called Carl, but he kept rejecting my calls. The next day, his childhood friend posted an intimate photo of them lying side by side in bed, with a caption. [With just one call, you’d come over to my side no matter what.] Everyone was waiting for me, Carl’s girlfriend, to make a joke of myself. However, I just wiped away my tears, liked the post, and commented, [Congratulations, you two are a match made in the trash dump. I hope you rot in hell together.]

She returned to bury her father. Instead, she was forced to marry his enemy’s son. - Rosalind Marlow returns to New York to settle her father’s affairs, once one of the city’s most feared mafia bosses, only to find he died beside his greatest rival… and left behind a contract binding her to the rival’s son. Viktor Marino is cold, calculating, and infuriatingly magnetic. Rosa has no intention of becoming anyone’s pawn, not in grief, not in business, and definitely not in bed. But Viktor plays a long game, and with every stare, every challenge, he pulls her deeper into a world of secrets, power, and heat. She was raised to be untouchable. He was born to conquer. And in the space between vengeance and desire, who is going to lose control first? (Contains mature and dark content) ***** EXCERPT ‘Why would you want to leave this behind?’ he growled in my ear, his chest rumbling against my back. Because I can’t trust you. Because I don’t know what I want. ‘Because it’s cruel,’ I whispered. And then he pulled away, leaving me trembling, desperate, and furious.” ❦

On my birthday, Connor Simpson's first love jumped off a building due to depression. She died on the spot. Connor blamed everything on me. I never celebrated my birthday again after she died. After the murderer electrocuted me for more than ten hours, they forced me to call Connor. "Connor, it's my 25th birthday today. Can you come over and spend time with me?" However, Connor did not notice anything unusual. His voice was laced with venomous iciness. "Clarisse Winter, Audrey wouldn't have died if it weren't for you. How dare you ask me to celebrate your birthday? If only you were the one who died." I heard him coaxing a woman on the other end just before he hung up on me. That low and gentle tone was what I loved to hear the most in the past. That night, the murderer cut my body into countless pieces, packed them in bags, and threw them in front of the police station. Connor was summoned back overnight. He spent two days and two nights piecing together the body parts, but he did not realize that the dead person was the wife that he hated the most.