Anna Karenina Novels & Stories

A monotonous, colorless life and dull relationships instantly fade into the background the moment you step into a completely different world—one with its own rules and laws. It looks so much like ours, and yet is radically different, for here live werewolves and countless other incredible beings. Bring a cursed Alpha King’s heart back to life? Ride off into the sunset with one of the handsome guards? Or fall for a dangerous witch and uncover the true face of evil? Wrap it all up for me—I’ll take it! An extraordinary world, vivid characters, blazing emotions, and passionate love with a touch of spice ❤️‍🔥 18+ “Quite an interesting hall you’ve got here,” Karadeylis said without even glancing around, his steps bringing him dangerously close. “But OURS holds unforgettable memories of the time we unwrapped your restless little ass.” I gasped in outrage at his brazen words—especially with so many people around—but my panties betrayed me, dampening at the memory of exactly what that bastard had reminded me of. “How dare you?!” I hissed, our faces now only inches apart. Goosebumps ran across my skin at the dangerous nearness. I could feel his hot breath on my lips, the heat of his half-bare body, and that intoxicating scent I knew too well. Our breathing came ragged, as if we had just finished running a marathon, unable to break free from the magnetic pull of each other’s gaze. “No one else dares—only me, Prepedollie!” the scoundrel growled, gripping me firmly by the tail and yanking my face closer to his as his eyes devoured me. “I warned you—once I found you, there would be no mercy!”

My son asked me for something I couldn’t give. “Just three chances, Mom,” he whispered. “If he really doesn’t love us after that… we’ll leave forever.” He was talking about his father — Giovanni Romano. The heir to a Mafia empire. My husband in name only. He never called our son his own. He never once said he loved me. Chance one, Giovanni forgot. Chance two, he lied. Chance three… he broke something no apology could fix. So I packed our bags, held my son’s hand, and walked away. No tears. No goodbyes. Just quiet. The night our plane took off, my phone buzzed. “Wait,” his message read. “I’m coming home.” But home isn’t where he is anymore. It’s wherever my son finally sleeps without crying. Because some promises don’t break — they shatter. And some mothers never wait again.

I was raised to believe that love meant endurance. That if I loved him enough, I could survive anything. For seven years, I was stationed at the border—alone, bleeding, freezing, nearly dying more times than I can count. Every transfer request I submitted was denied. Every time I asked why, I was told the same thing: the family needed me. The alliance came first. Others needed protection more than I did. What I didn’t know was this— Every sacrifice I made was approved by the man who claimed to love me. Adrian Holt, the Don who raised me, protected me, promised I would be his Donna one day… He was the one signing my name away year after year. He chose widows. He chose alliances. He chose power. And he chose for me—without ever asking. Because he was certain of one thing: That no matter what he did, I would never leave him. He believed love meant I would understand. That loyalty meant silence. That I would forgive anything—as long as he said he loved me. So when I finally walked away, I didn’t argue. I didn’t beg. I disappeared. And that was the moment his world collapsed. Now he’s tearing through cities, alliances, and his own sanity trying to find me— Too late realizing that love is not sacrifice when only one person bleeds. This is not a story about redemption. It’s a story about what happens after you lose the woman who endured everything… And finally chose herself.

Our bodies tangled in the car. My husband moved inside me, lips claiming my chest, when the sudden ring of a phone ripped me out of our intoxicating haze. Gabriel answered without hesitation. It was one of his closest friends from the medical world, speaking in German. “Don,” the voice said casually, “your mistress is two months pregnant. What are you going to do?” Gabriel didn’t pause. His tone was calm. “Grace can’t have children,” he replied. “I’ll let her carry the baby to term, then adopt it as my own. That secures the heir. This stays between us.” Something inside me froze. The one thing he had forgotten— I majored in German. And he learned it just to win me. I didn’t scream. I didn’t confront him. Instead, I smiled, stayed quiet, and kept playing the perfect wife. Later, I slipped the divorce papers into a real estate contract and watched him sign without reading. Then I quietly registered a new identity. For the next three days, his absence—and her taunting messages—erased the last illusions I had about love. When my new identity finally went live, I walked away without looking back. Carrying his child. And disappearing from his world forever.

Grace Ivy is just an ordinary girl who wants to live a quiet life with her beloved parents, however, the quietness was destroyed by a hunt among lower-class people for vampires. Grace Ivy’s parents sacrificed themselves to let Grace Ivy’s escape, but she was still captured by a slave trader and became a commodity for sale in the slave market. Her buyer, the so called Lord Noah Creed is not an ordinary human being, but a noble man from vampires world who’s heartless and pompous. Grave Ivy being who was just an ordinary girl begged Noah creed to spear her life but Noah creed being the heartless man didn’t agree to her request. Will Grace Ivy , the vampires pet become her master’s dinner, sex slave or lover?

Vincent Reynolds is not gay. He's not hiding from his true self and he's not confused. And no, he's not bi curious either. Instead, he believed he's asexual. Girls don't entice him but guess what? He'd never tried guys. When he crossed paths with the notorious Dimitri Santini with a body built to kill, the latter automatically added him to his list. Why? He's an advocate of the law. And what does Dimitri hate more than his father? The law and anyone supporting it. Dimitri's only goal was to ruin him for life but what he didn't expect was that single taste tipping everything over to the edge. _ _ _ “I want to see your reaction when you take my like the good boy that you are… Signore Mio. And you know what? I'm not stopping until you paint me with your .”

Think of this as a cyberpunk Bridget Jones’ Diary, if Bridget were a self-destructive tech refugee with a cocaine habit and a holographic archangel for a conscience. This is adarkly comedic character studyset in a near-future that feels just a few software updates away. It’s a story about addiction, both chemical and digital, and the messy, painful, and sometimes hilarious struggle to reclaim your own messy life from the algorithms designed to “optimize” it. At its heart, it’s the story of the most dysfunctional friendship imaginable: between a woman who is her own worst enemy, and the godlike AI she reprogrammed to be her partner-in-crime. It’s raw, it’s visceral, and it explores whether real connection can be found once you’ve burned all your bridges, and broken your operating system.

When Anaya Johnson joined Reefwood Inc. as the CEO's personal secretary, little did she know that she would be facing the biggest man in all history, Lancelot Eustis. She hates him and his whorish ways with all her heart, but the six feet five, on legs, brute of a man attracts attention wherever he goes, no gender bars. And she soon starts to fight an internal battle to either join his conquests and enjoy a few nights of unbound passion and desire or keep her feelings hidden and endure the torture of watching him take yet another beautiful woman to his . Lancelot Eustis has it all. Wealth, power, the looks of a Greek God and beautiful woman falling at his feet by the dozen. But what he doesn't understand is why his stubborn and full of life secretary hasn't fallen for his charm yet. But what started out as a game for him to get under her skin and maybe into her pants, turns out to be far more powerful than he could have imagined. For he hides a secret that can cost her life.

Miaka Von Speltsper, the myth, the legend and the daughter of two Gods. Miaka, the Demon King and the head of the Dark Council is the most powerful demon ever known to mankind, but she has a secret. She’s a hybrid. And the world she lives in has hunted down and eliminated every single hybrid in all the dimensions. But now…someone knows her secret, someone who has the power to destroy her. However, the world is changing and one of those changes is Kaleb Takeshi, the man with extraordinary eyes who has stolen Miaka’s heart with just one glance. But there is something about Kaleb that Miaka can sense but can’t describe. And not only is he human, he’s an enemy who has decided to give his loyalty to her. In this world of lies, deceit and betrayal; can Miaka trust her heart or will she have to choose century’s old traditions to stay alive? Because if she dies, it will truly be the end of the world.

Three year after my death, my former mate returned— not to mourn me, but to make use of me one last time. It was the Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year—the night when wolves whispered to the dead. “Where’s Mira Thorne?” Rowan demanded as he strode downstairs into the tavern beneath the den. “Her lived here—Gavin’s sister. I need to find her.” Dorian, the tavern keeper, glanced up slowly. “Mira?” he repeated, wiping his hands on a cloth. “She’s gone, Doctor. Died three winters ago. Same night the Moon rose red.” Rowan’s brows knit. “Dead? That’s impossible. There’s no record.” Dorian’s voice softened. “The family from that healing case—remember them? They found her in the alley behind this inn. Tore her apart before dawn. The healers couldn’t even retrieve her wolf.” Rowan froze, a flicker of disbelief passing across his face before irritation took over. “No. She’s pretending. She’s doing this to make me feel guilty.” he said sharply. “She’s hiding. She always was weak. Tell her if her doesn’t come out within three days, I’ll stop sending money for brother’s treatment.” He turned abruptly and left, the tavern door slamming behind him. Dorian sighed after him., shaking his head. “brother? Her brother died before the healers even arrived… there was never any money for treatment.” The silence that followed was heavier than snow. Dorian watched the falling snow and murmured to the empty air, “No one pretends death, Doctor. Not when they’ve already lost everything.”