Blake Belladonna Birthday Novels & Stories

An enemies-to-lovers murder mystery story, following the link between an ordinary girl with the powerful man in town. After Bella manages to escape her abusive boyfriend, she winds up on the streets drugged, bruised and barely conscious. Then her knight appears, scooping her up and bringing her to safety. He seems familiar. Fate has brought them together again, only for her to ruin his life with her horrible past, and for him to leave her a helpless fool.

Jade My brother went off to college out of state thinking he would be alright on his own but he just moved back in yesterday with a friend, a very tall, very handsome friend under the condition that he was not to touch or look at me in a sexual way, but as the challenging person I am, I want to see how long he can hold back. Blake I promised my best friend that I wouldn't do anything to his little sister but I don't know how long I can hold back against her advances. I know it's wrong but I can't stop myself and she's not taking it easy on me either.

Blake Landon, he's the hot, serious guy that all the girls drool over in our pack, and the next in line to become our pack’s alpha. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would end up being his mate. He's arrogant, short-tempered, and no one- I mean no one dares to defy him. So how in the world did I end up being his mate? When things turn, and we go face to face with a powerful vampire clan, he and I get thrown into having to choose to fight together, or sacrifice one or another. One thing is for sure, things will not end well, and will be up to us to sacrifice our love for each other, or our pack.

Belladonna; the devil's favorite flower, a slow sentence of death. Silence, pain and insanity. Artemisia was born being the poisonous root of the family, the shadow on the wall that everyone tried not to see. A legend has fallen upon her since childhood: be loved by her and death will come to you as the poisoning by belladonna, slowly and painfully. As a way to escape from her mother's suffocating wings, Artemisia moved into her great aunt's mansion in to start over and wipe all the blood on her hands. But no matter where it is planted, a poisonous plant will always leave its trail morbid.

One kiss with the bad boy was all it took for both of them to fall for eachother. When Lydia Hayes, Worthington's sweetheart joins a party and better yet gets to kiss her frenemy, Blake Parker, unwanted feelings start blooming in both their hearts. Sparks fly and happiness engulfs them with an astonishing amount of drama.

After twenty-five years of trying to win over Gus Harding, I failed and died by his hand. But he didn't know that. He kept threatening, demanding I show myself immediately. The real heiress slapped him hard. "Genevieve is dead, and you didn't even care enough to see her one last time." Gus scoffed, claiming it was just another one of my tricks. Only when he saw my cold, lifeless body did he finally understand. I was gone for good. And this time, it drove him mad.

This is a story of two close friends (Courtney and Judy) and the odds that meet them as soon as Courtney turns 18. They hope for a bright future together but have no clue on things that are yet to unfold in their lives.

By our sixth year of marriage, Derrick hadn't touched me in three months. Said he was swamped at work. Always tired. After everything, I still believed him. Then on my birthday, I caught his friend talking in Garmenian—a language Derrick didn't think I understood. "You cut off the side piece yet? You were with her nonstop. Surprised you didn't drop dead. Your wife cool with that?" Derrick let out a smoke ring. "Haven't touched Audrey in months. Sabrina's insane in bed—I'm not over her yet. Sucks she got pregnant. Audrey doesn't want kids, so I gave Sabrina some cash. She'll have the baby overseas." My hands curled into fists. Silent tears streamed down my face. He glanced over, nervous. "What's wrong?" I smiled. "The cake you made is amazing. I'm really touched." It was sweet—but when you understand Garmenian, all you taste is betrayal.

My dad worked as a dishwasher in a restaurant, earning a measly $400 a month. My mom had bad legs, so she could only scrape by collecting trash. When my academically-gifted younger brother was in middle school, they pulled him out of school and made him work to earn extra money so that they could afford to send me to the best school in the state. I didn't let them down and aced my high school, becoming the top student in my state. The day I got my SAT scores was also my birthday. Dad, all hunched over, came to my school with a pink cake, followed by Mom in her tattered clothes and my brother with his face covered in grime. But instead of being grateful, I grabbed a sharp compass and threw it at Dad, drawing blood. "You think you can buy me off with a cake? Get lost! Don't let me see you again!" The principal stared in disbelief. "Yvonne, what are you doing? If it weren't for your family working hard to support you, you wouldn't be this successful!" I held my head high, unperturbed. "So what if I'm the top student in the state? It's no big deal! If they really loved me, they would give me a million dollars so I could live a life of luxury!" Dad's tears hit the ground as he called me an ungrateful brat. Mom wanted to slap me but was held back. Meanwhile, I silently opened the cake box and cut the cake. The next second, everyone was shocked.

On my birthday, the dining table was loaded with all my favorites. My mom had been cooking and baking the entire afternoon, insisting everything be perfect for when Mike got home from work so we could celebrate together. But then, he called and said his first love had been drugged at a bar, and he had to go help her. I stopped him and begged him not to go. Mike snapped at me. "Jesus, Em, don’t pull this jealous wife crap. She’s alone, defenseless, and unconscious—I can't let some random dude take advantage of her!" My mother heard those words and was so enraged that she had a heart attack. She died on the spot. Just like that, my mom died on my birthday. I called Mike, asking him to attend my mom's funeral. But before he could reply, I saw Cathy Miller's latest Instagram post, captioned: [Mikey… after all these years, it was always you.] Mike had liked it. My thumb moved before my brain caught up, typing out the only words that mattered: [A homewrecker and a lying bastard. Hope you rot together.]