13 Stories Book Novels & Stories

***** POWER AND TEMPTATION MAFIA SERIES( romance/erotic/betrayal)************ - BOOK 1 ITALIAN MAFIA -ITALIAN MAFIA 2/ SHES'S STILL MINE ************INDIVIDUAL STORIES************* - FEARLESS LUNA (WEREWOLF SEXY ROMANCE STORY) ***************A****N KINDLE / KINDLE UNLIMITED************************** - IVANOV, RUSSIAN MAFIA -FEARLESS LUNA T H A N K Y O U L A R A S O U L T A K E R

he said, lifting it by one corner and showing the cover to me, “is filled with the stories of our people. Every werewolf family has a copy, and all werewolf children grow up hearing the tales.” “So… they’re fairy tales like Cinderella? Or myths like Pandora’s Box?” I asked, taking the book and examining it. It was an old book with a dark green cover, embossed with gold scrolling around the edges and on the binding, with the title “The Goddess’s Tales” right in the center. Despite its age, it was still in wonderful condition, with hardly any deterioration.

This is the order of my books HEARTS SERIES #1 His Winter Heart (Snow and Eion’s Story) #2 Changing the Billionaire’s Heart (Sereia and Phoenix’s Story) #3 Billionaire’s Heartless Love (Ellaina and Ajax Story) #4 Triplet Billionaire's Heart (Saphira and Theon) I also have fantasy, werewolf and mafia story you can find on my f******k page Author marshmalllowssprikle faith. follow me there if you want to get updated with the latest stories! Till next story! -Faith <3

These stories ranged from tales of triumph and resilience to accounts of cultural traditions and the bonds forged through shared humanity. Luna compiled these stories into a book titled "Voices of Seoul," a testament to the diverse voices that make up the vibrant tapestry of the city. Through the publication of the book, Luna aimed to not only give a voice to those whose stories often go unheard but also to provide a platform for readers around the world to connect with the people of Seoul on a deeply personal level.

“Kaitlyn, sweetheart, you know this isn’t punishment. It’s fun. Sometimes I’d rather just be me, spanking the woman I love.” “But...the book. You were scolding me. I don’t like that.” “Oh, shit, you weren’t supposed to take that seriously! That was part of the game.” Then he makes a weird face. “Besides, I picked that one off the bedside table because the cover picture was sexy and...well, the next thing I knew it was three hours later.” “Ha! Told you they were addictive!”

I asked, my voice flat but my pulse betraying me. He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe it’s speaking a language your body understands better than your mind. That’s where magic starts anyway. The body, the reaction and the surrender.” “I’m not surrendering,” I snapped, even though part of me already had. “I didn’t say you were. But your body already did,” he said calmly, but his voice had that low hum again. That barely-there pull. He reached into his satchel and pulled out a slim worn volume I hadn’t seen before. Midnight blue leather. Arcane symbols stitched into the spine.

The air in the library was thick with the scent of old books and the faint hum of fluorescent lights. Sadile Marconi, her fiery red hair cascading over her shoulders like a river of flames, sat at a secluded table, her green eyes darting between the pages of her textbook and the clock on the wall. The numbers seemed to mock her, ticking away the minutes until her next class, a class she was dangerously close to failing.

The main reading room stretched out, rows of tables dotted with forgotten laptops and half-empty coffee cups. I headed straight for the back stacks, the third floor, history section. It was my secret spot, it was quiet and secluded, with just enough dust in the air to make it feel like a forgotten world. Dropping my bag onto a low shelf, I pulled out my notes on the Industrial Revolution and settled cross-legged on the floor, leaning against a towering row of leather-bound tomes. The words blurred after a while, my mind wandering to Nike from my econ class. God, the way he’d leaned over my desk last week, his breath warm against my ear as he whispered about the assignment.

She pushed that down deep, sipping from stored bags in the fridge. Rain hammered the windows that Tuesday night. Lydia sat at her desk, sorting through a box of new books. One caught her eye: Spirits of the Wild: Bindings and Releases. The cover was cracked leather, smelling like dirt and old forests. She flipped it open, her fingers brushing over faded words in some ancient tongue. "Just a peek," she told herself. Curiosity burned in her chest. She read the spell aloud, soft and quick, like testing a locked door. The air changed. It got heavy, like before a storm. Candles on the shelves flickered wild, shadows dancing on the walls. A rumble started low, from the book itself. Lydia's hands s

The room was a labyrinth of shelves. He selected a thick brown book his fingers brushing mine as he handed it over and I could have sworn that it was intentional. “Read aloud,” he instructed, settling into a chair that was way too close, his knee touching mine. My voice trembled through the verses, each word a caress building the heat between us.