Ash Magic Novels & Stories

Ashbound Moon is a paranormal werewolf romance about fate, rejection, and the power that refuses to stay buried. On the night her bond is meant to be celebrated, Aria Marrow is publicly rejected by the Alpha Heir—only for the sacred Moonwater to turn black, marking her as something far more dangerous than “unwanted.” Hunted by the pack that raised her and betrayed by the destiny that named her, Aria flees through an ancient gate into rogue territory beneath an eclipsed moon. There, a ruthless, controlled rogue with molten-gold eyes recognizes the truth: the Moon didn’t choose Aria to belong to someone—it chose her to end something. Now Aria must survive pack politics, broken bonds, and a growing power awakening inside her… while the one who rejected her refuses to let her go, and the rogue who protects her may be the only one who can teach her what she truly is.

Elise has never thought she could be someone special until she is warped into the past—to the Land of Magic—in Ancient Egypt. She finds herself including her brother and a couple of friends in the middle of the battle, between the Scorpion King and the Cobra King. She needs to choose to forge an alliance with to be able to survive in this ancient time and place and figure out how they can go back to their present time and be reunited with their parents.

My brother came back from his heir-training course convinced he was destined to marry an ultra-wealthy heiress. He took my car and tried to crash into the rear of Wendy Hewitt's vehicle. That girl was a top heiress in Greateast's elite circle, and my brother wanted to set up a chance encounter with her. I slammed on the brakes and told him the Hewitts were no fools. If my brother were to crash into that car, it would ruin our whole family's finances and then some. Wendy eventually held a grand wedding that shook the whole nation. My brother was consumed by jealousy. He insisted he would have been the groom if I had not stopped him that day. That resentment festered into hatred. In the end, my brother drove his car straight into me. I died. … When my eyes snapped open again, I found myself back in the passenger seat—back on the very day my brother tried to create that so-called chance encounter. A smug smile tugged at his lips as his eyes stayed fixed on the car ahead. "The moment Wendy sees me, I'll have her heart. And then I'll ditch this scrap metal." I didn't stop him this time. My brother stepped on the gas and crashed straight into the 50-million-dollar supercar.

Gabe Hunter, CEO of one of the biggest Advertisement agents in the US, a family run business. He is , rich and arrogant. The kind of man most women swoon over, but Aubrey Winters isn't most women. She disliked him the moment they met, and she doesn't care that he is the CEO of where she works. He isn't her biggest fan either because she isn't like other women. She is fiesty, confident and independent. Gabe is used to people doing as they tell him, something it isn't so easy when it comes to Aubrey. But what does it matter, right? They don't see each other often, and that is how she likes it, so when Gabe decided to take the lead on a new project, a project that Aubrey has been chosen to work on, she soon finds herself spending more time with him than she would like. Aubrey soon finds herself clashing with the CEO. Will their time together make them dislike each other more, or will the time they have to spend together change things? Is their hatred for each other honest or masking something else, something stronger...

The sky turned red, and meteors fell. Screams and explosions everywhere. For an unknown reason, people started having magic abilities.. Most were happy, but it didn't last long. Soon came the undead. To survive, kill, or be killed. Her mom disappeared. She was betrayed by her ex-fiance' and killed by her step-sister. Now she's back a year before the apocalypse, equip with magical space, this time will it be the same? Warning: mature scenes, gore & violence. Hi readers, I'm an amateur author. Please be lenient with me. This is my first novel, so please allow me to grow. Suggestions will be appreciated. Thanks!!! This story, characters, and places are fictional. Any resemblance to actual people, places, and events is purely coincidental. Would you like to buy me a cup of coffee? https://ko-fi.com/oppo_red pictures source: https://pixabay.com/ https://www.canva.com/

Drenched in mud, I've just climbed down the scaffolding and started munching on a cold piece of stale bread when a luxury car speeds past me, effectively drenching me in muddy water. The car window on the driver's side is quickly lowered. A sleazy guy hurls a pack of cigarettes in my face the next moment. "Hey, peasant! This is a reward for you! I got really lucky today, after all!" While I pick up the cigarette pack silently, the man happens to be boasting loudly to the woman sitting in the front passenger seat. "My brother-in-law really is an idiot! He seriously thinks that my sister has a terminal disease! He went to the black market last night night just to sell his blood in exchange for 200 thousand dollars' worth of surgical fees! I end up winning double in the casino with that money of his! "My sister told me that once that idiot gets his hands on the work injury compensation, she'll divorce him right away and buy me a new home!" I grip the bread so hard that it crumples in my hand. After all, my wife, Estella Wilson, was just diagnosed with "late-stage stomach cancer" yesterday. Suddenly, I feel my phone buzzing in my pocket. It's a voice message from Estella. "Hubby, it hurts so much going through the chemotherapy! The doctor told me that I'd be eligible for better medication if we could cough up another 200 thousand dollars. Can you please plead to the foreman and borrow some money from him?"

I try seducing my fiance, Vernon Floyd, 999 times. But even when I'm shirtless, his only concern is whether I'm cold. I assume that Vernon is a traditional guy, who wants to do it until we're married. But on the day of our anniversary, I discover that he has secretly booked a hotel famous for couples' getaways in the city. That night, I arrive at the VIP suite full of hope. In the end, all I see is Vernon and his childhood sweetheart passionately kissing each other as the crowd cheers. I wait outside the VIP suite for a long time. Finally, I understand that he doesn't love me. After leaving the hotel, I call my family. "Dad, I don't want to marry Vernon anymore. I want to marry Dylan instead!" Dad spits out his coffee and says, "Avril, Mr. Walker got into a car accident a few years ago. I heard that he's impotent. If you marry him, you won't have any children!" By then, I am already disheartened. "It doesn't matter whether I have children or not."

My mother fell critically ill and was rushed to the hospital. Desperate, I knelt before my fiancé—the department's chief surgeon—and begged him to take charge of her operation. But outside the ICU, he was carefully tending to a scraped knee. Lucy Wendell's scraped knee, to be exact. Just as I was drowning in hopelessness, Cameron Mitchell—the hospital director and my childhood friend—pushed open the operating room doors and handed me a marriage proposal. "Marry me, and I'll personally perform your mother's surgery." With trembling hands, I signed my name, clinging to the last shred of hope that she could be saved. But she never made it through that stormy night. Cameron handled all the funeral arrangements himself, and our wedding proceeded as scheduled. Seven years later, in the hushed silence of the hospital archives, I overheard Cameron speaking with the deputy director. "Cameron, why did you transfer your mother-in-law's organ to Lucy's mother during that surgery? Weren't you afraid of getting caught?" "I owed Lucy," he replied. "If I hadn't hesitated back then, Lucy never would've chosen medical aid work in Africa… and her mother wouldn't have fallen ill from the grief."

On my son’s birthday, my husband had asked his first love to pick our son up from our home. While I stubbornly refused to let him go, a huge fire broke out in the hallway during our standoff. I was struck by falling debris, and blood started streaming from my head. However, my son was unharmed as he lay beneath me. My husband, who was a firefighter, came forward to rescue us. But he handed the only gas mask he had to his first love. “Miss Leia has a weaker constitution. Dad, please get her out first. Mom, wait for the other firefighters to save you!” I watched them leave with a faint, bitter smile. It appeared that they had both forgotten my severe asthma and the fact that I would die without a gas mask.

On the fourth day after our son died, I decided to end my military marriage. Before that, I spent three days taking care of what remained of him. On the first day, I tricked my wife into signing the cremation papers. On the second day, I went to my son's school and collected the textbooks he never had the chance to use. On the third day, I prepared a table full of his favorite dishes and begged my wife to come home so we could celebrate his birthday one last time. She agreed. Then she turned around, claimed she had a mission, and spent the entire night setting off fireworks with her childhood sweetheart. That night, I sat beside my son's memorial photo and ate alone. The next day, she came home looking guilty and handed me a brand new backpack. She said it was a gift for our son to use at school. She did not know that our child would never live to see his first day of school.