A Tree Without Roots Novels & Stories

Ever since I started at the Brooklyn Enquirer as a journalist, I've been reporting on stories nobody cares about. But the other day, I found a story that I was sure the audience would sink their teeth into. One that was front-page worthy and would make our newspaper infamous. Except it centers around a mafia boss and his bloodthirsty brothers.  It won't be easy to get it, but I'm determined to prove my worth. And it starts with Darick Dawson. My heart fluttered as we gazed into each other's eyes. At the same time, we leaned forward, and our lips touched. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he stroked his fingers through my hair, pulling at the roots softly, earning a moan from me. He traced his finger around my lips when suddenly, I opened my eyes and noticed the red in his irises getting darker. My Bloodthirsty Mafia Man is written by Claire Wilkins, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author

"A Prince and a Peasant sitting in a tree K I S S I N G ." - unknown. "It's all false." The Prince stared straight into his father's eyes. "I have never laid my eyes on this girl in my entire existence, father." Prince added. "Very well." The King said thoughtfully. "Young lady you have to be punished for having spread falsehood on my son's name but I do sympathize with you considering you are with child." All the people of Acamas had been watching, as this had been done in public appearance. Everyone was in stitches of laughter after the Prince had denied the allegations but even more people who knew Lucia knew that she wasn't one to lie, cheat or even lay with a man before marriage. Lucia knew right there and there that her life was doomed and above all she was a fool. fool. doomed. que sera sera.

Zanny was once the cherished Luna of Silvercrest, a werewolf who believed love could warm even the coldest alpha. Instead, she endured silence, rejection and betrayal. Her husband, Alpha Clay, drifted into the arms of her own friend Selene, while their young son was slowly turned against her. When Zanny finally severed their bond, she thought she had freed herself from heartbreak, but fate and destiny had other plans. As Clay spirals into madness from the broken bond, Selene’s influence on him grows darker. Guided by her father Torag, a sorcerer who seeks to destroy the balance of the werewolf world, Selene orchestrates betrayals, poisons, and an attack meant to wipe out Silvercrest. As enemies awaken and alliances fracture, Zanny must choose between reshaping the Dark Breed’s destiny, a place that sheltered her, or honouring the roots they fought to preserve. And Clay must confront the consequences of the lies that tore apart his pack, his Luna and his heart. Power is shifting. Magic is stirring. And this is just the beginning.

Rita gave up her life of luxury for love, hiding her billionaire roots to marry James, a humble farmer. But her fairy-tale romance soon turned into a nightmare of betrayal, abuse, and heartbreak. Forced to sign divorce papers, she vanished, taking with her a secret that could have changed everything. James thought he had moved on with the governor’s daughter, but his dream life crumbled when the truth about Linnet's past emerged. Stricken by regret, he discovers the shocking reality: Rita wasn’t the burden he believed her to be, she was the blessing he let slip away. Now, armed with newfound determination and desperation, James is chasing the woman he wronged, only to find Rita reborn as a powerful and untouchable force. As she thrives with the son he never knew, James must confront his failures and fight for the chance to rewrite their story. Can a shattered love be pieced back together, or is James too late to reclaim the life he destroyed?

Alana Hope was a wolfless girl who was unaware of her nature. Her true form gradually awakened when she met the father of her son, eight years after an eventful one-night stand. Alana had no idea how her life would immensely change after that. Alric Valmore was the Alpha of The Valmore Blood Pack, one of the biggest packs in Eastern Dhuran. For as long as he could remember, he had been searching for his mate, his future Luna. After stumbling into Alana, he sensed, deep within his bones, that she was his mate, but with her wolf not coming out, will he ever know for certain? Fate would have it, Alana and her son were taken to the Port of Valmore, the biggest territory of The Valmore Blood Pack. Would Alric rise to the occasion and fight for his Luna and son? What would happen when Alana's roots are shed into light? What would happen when the wolves that treated her as inferior, learn that Alana was the missing piece to the strength of their pack? Follow me on social media. Search Author_LiLhyz on IG & FB.

My girlfriend was a police officer. One day, I got kidnapped, and the explosives on my body were ten minutes away from detonating when the kidnappers ordered me to call her. Instead of worry, all I got was relentless scorn and a tongue-lashing. "Caleb, are you seriously doing this right now? How could you be so petty and jealous when a life is on the line?! Lucas' cat is in danger. It has been stuck on a tree for three days, and that cat is as important to him as his own life! "If I don't save them in time, you'll be the one at fault!" Over the line, I heard the voice of a young man that sounded, to my ears, anything but genuine. "Thank you Jamie, you're the best!" That man was my girlfriend's childhood friend, Lucas White. Before the bomb exploded, I sent her a final message. [I hope we never see each other again. Not in this life, and not in the next.]

I’d been dead a month before my family even noticed. It wasn’t concern that brought them to that realization. It was my silence after the so-called “dinner” with Adam Rossi, the infamous mafia boss. My father scoffed like always,“She probably shacked up with that bastard. Too busy spreading her legs to pick up the damn phone.” My sister texted me a photo of them smiling under the Christmas tree, ornaments twinkling like nothing was wrong. Bitch, she wrote. You better talk Mr. Rossi into working with Dad, or you might as well be dead already. And my mother—once the softer one—was now colder than the frost on their windows. “I told you, we should’ve sent Gia to charm Mr. Rossi. Serena always screws things up.” They didn’t think I would die. Not until they found my body—broken, rotten, and forgotten—in Adam Rossi’s basement.

Ella's life was never an easy one. Born in a wealthy family that was roots deep in crime, she'd lived a fearful life. Shunned from a normal life, Ella tried to stay away from the crimes her family participated in, even when the flames of the dark side of her family burned her voice. Life was cruel, but Ella did not expect it to get worse. A day after her father's death, Ella found herself getting shipped off to marry a man she did not know. What was worse? The man she was to marry, was the very man who killed her father. Elijah doesn't need to marry Custo's daughter. He already knew the benefits of this arranged marriage was to her family and not him. Yet, resentment made him sign the contract. Marrying Ella meant having her and her family wrapped around his little finger. Ella's fate was sealed. Out from one cage to the next. Only, this cage has a monster living in it, one that will make her life miserable.

After my mom, Margaret Hale, dies of a heart attack, she starts appearing in my sister Claire Dawson's dreams. In a dream, Mom tells Claire to climb Mount Mistwood before sunrise and burn the entrance ticket for her, or the other ghosts will bully her. Claire doesn't tell me anything. She packs a bag in the middle of the night and forces herself to the summit. While she's gasping her way up that mountain, I'm asleep at home when I suddenly go into cardiac arrest. I wake up in the emergency room with doctors shouting over me. I barely survive before Mom appears in Claire's dreams again. This time, she says skydiving is her last wish. If Claire doesn't do it for her, she won't rest in peace. Claire signs up right away, ignoring everything I say. But then, her parachute refuses to open, and she plummets toward the ground. Luckily, she gets snagged in a tree and walks away without a scratch. Meanwhile, I miss a step going downstairs, tumble to the bottom, end up covered in bruises, and break five ribs. While I'm recovering in the hospital, Mom shows up in Claire's dreams again. Now, she wants Claire to go to the South Pole for her, saying she can finally move on and be reincarnated once Claire completes the trip. Claire doesn't hesitate and books a tour on the spot. While she's taking pictures with penguins, I freeze to death back home during a 104-degree heatwave. Only after I die does it finally hit me that Mom's missions for Claire always end with me on death's doorstep. What I don't understand is how Mom keeps shifting the danger meant for Claire onto me instead. The next time I open my eyes, I'm back on the morning after Mom first appeared in Claire's dream.

I stood at the edge of Ironwood territory, boots sinking into mud as cold seeped through my coat. I hated being this close to their land. It smelled like wet dog, testosterone, and trouble. “You’re late, witch.” The voice hit low and deep, vibrating through the ground before it reached my ears. I didn’t flinch. I refused to give him that. I turned slowly, amethyst eyes narrowing as I found him at the tree line. Guilermo Santander. He stepped into the gray light, rain sliding off his broad frame. Six-foot-five of pure menace. Dark hair plastered to his forehead, silver streaks catching the gloom, and those amber eyes—burning straight through me. “I’m not late,” I said calmly, though my pulse spiked. “You wolves just don’t understand patience.” He stopped three feet away. My skin prickled as the runes along my ribs flared hot, reacting to the dense magic rolling off him. Suffocating. Intoxicating. “And you witches don’t understand territory,” Guilermo said. He didn’t sound feral. He sounded tired—like a man carrying a century of weight on deceptively young shoulders. He leaned in and sniffed near my neck. I stiffened. “You smell like sage and burnt sugar,” he murmured, voice dropping, darker now. “It’s giving me a headache.” “Then stop breathing,” I snapped. One corner of his mouth lifted, a flash of sharp canine. “Make me.” The air between us snapped tight. My magic stirred, violet haze curling from my fingertips without permission, brushing the leather of his jacket. He didn’t pull away. He leaned closer. And standing there in the freezing rain with a man who could tear my throat out, I realized two things: Elder Sibal was wrong—Guilermo wasn’t a monster to be chained. And I was in serious trouble.