The Castle: Novel

“I know you want me in jail, but I want you in my bed.” Every man and woman Ángel meets disappears. Their severed finger arrives first, like a pretty little Christmas gift, wrapped in silk and presented in box filled with silent promises from his stalker. Castle, Mafia heir. Executioner. Obsessed beyond reason. He doesn’t send threats. He sends bodies. Because no one touches what belongs to him. No one tastes what he’s claimed. And if they try? They bleed for it. At sixteen, Ángel Di Cristina lost everything. His father—an FBI agent—was closing in on the Mafia when a brutal massacre left his parents dead. But that night, one masked man went rogue. He killed his own allies, marked Ángel with a scar, and disappeared. For years, Ángel hunted him. And now, he’s closer than ever. But Castle doesn’t play by rules. He never had. What he wanted, he got. He bends Ángel, fills his whole life with the thought of him. He whispers filthy things against his throat while pressing a knife to his pulse. Run? Hide? Fight? Useless. Because Castillo doesn’t just want to own Ángel. He wants to ruin him. And the worst part? Ángel is ready to let him.

A young lady awakens to find herself in a luxurious mansion, but is at the mercy of its insane master. Can she discover the truth of what happened and escape? Or will she be another body count?

Sonya Duville moved to a small village where her ancestors had a family land to restart her new beginnings in life. Since a child, Sonya has been curious about an old mansion that was abandoned near her family house. She felt that she should reveal the mystery of the old mansion. She knew that the old mansion had been cursed by a white witch family for centuries. One day, she found out that Knight Richard, a descendant of the old mansion's owner, returning from Romania and living in that old mansion which he changed to become a place for some people to stay overnights. Knight Richard appeared as a gentleman, otherwise, Sonya was curious to find out who he was actually in real life since she and her auntie found some weird occurrences since the day he moved to the mansion. There were some animals dead because a creature sucked their blood and bit them off. In her journey to find the answer, Sonya discovered another mystery within her big family as she knew that she could communicate with some animals. Up to that time, Clayton Stein, a nephew of her auntie, Caroline's late husband, appeared and stayed with them while he was doing an investigation about his uncle's death. The past romance between the witch ‘Rose Duville’, an ancestor of Sonya Duville, and Knight Richard, an arrogant vampire had spelled her curse on Knight Richard since he had broken Rose Duville’s heart with his obsession and arrogance.

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.

What is scarier than someone living in your walls? How about finding out the boy in the walls has seen a monster in there? What will the Count's daughter and her two unusual friends do to protect her home? Rated 12+ for light violence, kissing, sexual reference

My friend and I married into the Castellar family together. I married the older brother, who worked in high finance. My best friend married the younger, a senior fire officer. They didn’t tell us the truth until we were both pregnant. They were vampires. We were furious. But in the end, we forgave them because we still loved them. Until that night. We were staying at a vacation cabin when the fire started after midnight. The front door sealed itself shut, locked by a spell, trapping me inside. My best friend had gone out for a walk and escaped the fire by sheer luck. A car passed by on the forest road. She ran into the headlights, begging the driver to ram the door and save me. The man said coldly, “Pay first.” Inside the cabin, blood ran down my legs and soaked the floor. I tried to transfer the money, but my account was frozen. I called my husband. He hung up three times before the call finally went through. But the voice that answered wasn’t his. It was a woman’s. Vicky sounded calm, almost amused. She said he was busy. Then she added lightly that he’d been helping her set up a subcard and had accidentally disabled mine. My best friend called her husband next. She was crying. She told him there was a fire and I was trapped. He snapped back at her. “Stop lying. I hate people who make false emergency calls. I’m with Vicky checking fire hazards in her new place. Don’t bother me.” She didn’t hesitate again. She shoved the driver out, and drove straight into the cabin. The door shattered. She dragged me out with her bare hands. We lost our babies on the way to the hospital. When I woke up,we looked at each other for a long time. “I’m getting divorced,” she said. “So am I.”