The Scold's Bridle

I, Zierno the famed assassin, am hunting the mythical Mist Mare. My king, my friend, has promised me command of his guard if I gift her to him. I never fail a mission. The beast will belong to the King of the Netherlands, one way or the other. It’s deeply amazing how much can go wrong in a single day. From capturing the rare creature for my liege, to it nearly making off with my king. Now I’m on his short list of enemies. During my mad flight from the castle, I thought to save an injured woman. I couldn’t have been more wrong. What I have now is a sack full of problems. This pretty red-eyed woman, being the largest. She looks like a sweet creature one moment. Then the next, a bloodthirsty demon. And truthfully, I’m terrified. I’ve never seen anything like her. “Chain me to the wall” She says. Normally I’d think that might make for an interesting afternoon. Now I’m thinking I’d rather be anywhere but where she can shriek at me when she has one of her ‘spells.’ “Go talk to the sorcerer.” She orders. As though I should know who he is. “I need your help.” She says, as though I’m intended to be some great savior. I’m a killer not a saint. Meanwhile, I’ve gotten word that the King has sent out an army to hunt me down and drag me back to face the consequences of a potential assassination. One which I did not intend! So my plan right now…Is essentially just to stay alive.

While shopping, I spotted a good-looking men's tie. I bought it as a birthday gift for my son. I was paying when the clerk suddenly muttered under her breath, "Disgusting!" I was furious. When I got home, I told my husband what happened. He was ready to file a complaint, but the moment he saw the tie, his face took on a strange expression. "Did you really buy this? If you did, we're getting divorced right now!" My mother heard the commotion and came to see what was wrong. When she saw the tie in my hands, the color drained from her face. She pointed at me and screamed, "How did I raise such a monster?!" I stood rooted to the spot, completely lost.

The first born son of the Laird to the largest clan on the boarder is one of three identical triplets. But nobody really knows which one was born first! So who will rule? The king will decide. Or will he? To keep peace in the highlands and unite the boarder lands the king feels all three men must have a clan to rule. Since all three are unwed, he chooses brides for them that will result in each of the triplets having a clan to rule and a wife to create heirs with. Assuming the laird named his first son after himself, the king weds Griogair to the second daughter of the clan to the west. He and Eliana would stay on MacInnis land, uniting it through marriage with the MacDonald clan that stretched from their boarder to the west coast. He wed the remaining brothers to clans that had only women as direct heirs. Padraig to the widow Fraiser and Alasdair to the young Isobel whose father owned the land on the east coast. But the men have other ideas. This is a game the men have played since they were small. Padraig tosses a silver coin and his brother's nod, instantly swapping identities as smoothly as taking a step. Will anyone notice they have each chosen their own wife? Just as nobody knows which son was first born, few can tell them apart. Certainly not the emissary or clergy sent by the king! But when the truth comes to light, will it all unravel?

When a group of disgruntled teens cast a spell to get revenge on their bullies, they are shocked to discover Damien is more than just talk. He literally has the girl who humiliated him on a leash, Mr popular is reduced to a drooling love-slave, and even the schools most prolific bully has been tamed. Everything is great... until it's not. As the spell runs its course, it becomes apparent that someone in the group isn't so innocent. The only way to end the spell is to forgive, but is Damien willing to give up his hold over the beautiful Belle?

Seer Corvyn once foretold that House Ashveil would produce a daughter who could see the future. I hid the birthmark I was born with on my forehead, yet my younger sister painted a vivid mark on her forehead every single day. Then, a royal decree came, naming her the Crown Prince, Prince Caelen’s fiancée, and I married Prince Aldric, just like I had wanted. For the next five years, I used my ability to foresee the future to help Aldric rise to power. On the night he ascended the throne, I finally wiped away the layers of makeup and told him my secret. However, instead of relief, he flew into a rage. He carved the flesh from my forehead and had me executed. “Leanora, how dare you imitate Rosalind’s birthmark? If you hadn’t chosen me first, she would never have been forced to marry Caelen! She should have been my true queen! For five years, every moment I touched you has disgusted me. You shall die in her place.” When I opened my eyes again, Aldric burst in, cutting off Seer Corvyn mid-sentence. “How can a mark prove that Rosalind is the chosen one?” “I’m willing to use the blank royal decree Father once granted me to marry the Lord Chancellor’s illegitimate daughter, Rosalind Ashveil.”

Julian Silas is a man living as a shadow. After the suspicious death of his father, a legendary royal jeweler, Julian’s treacherous stepfather seized the family’s prestigious workshop, forcing Julian into a life of clandestine labor. While his stepbrothers parade around high society in Julian’s designs, Julian remains locked in the cellar forge, known to the world only as a common servant. His only connection to his true identity is a pair of heirloom cufflinks—exquisite silver swans bearing the "Cigna," a secret mark used by his ancestors to authenticate their greatest works. Across the capital, Queen Althea is fighting a war of her own. Her advisors are pressuring her to enter a loveless political alliance to stabilize the crown. Defiant, she hosts a grand masquerade, declaring that she will choose a consort based on character, not a pedigree curated by the council. When Julian arrives at the ball in a suit of his own tailoring, he and Althea share a night of genuine connection, discussing the beauty of creation and the weight of duty. But as the clock strikes midnight, a palace security breach forces Julian to flee. In his haste to scale the garden wall, one of his Cigna cufflinks is torn from his sleeve and falls into the dewy grass. The Queen finds the token, but rather than sending her guards to find a man who "fits the suit," she turns to her greatest strength: her intellect. She recognizes that the "Cigna" isn't just an ornament—it’s a Coded Sign.