Bleeding Through The Truth Novels & Stories

In Alabama’s rot-soaked bayous, Drucilla Drakes survives by three rules: silence, scars, and never letting Louise—her Bible-thumping captor—catch her hoping. But when a schoolyard ambush leaves her bleeding beneath a stranger’s leather jacket, invisibility becomes a death sentence. Enter Dragon Morales: New Orleans’ most notorious runaway, a cartel prince turned outlaw mechanic with grease-stained hands and a death wish. He doesn’t save people—he survives them. Yet in Dru’s lashed flesh and hellfire gaze, he sees his own shattered reflection. Their bond is gasoline and matches. Dragon’s father—Colombia’s cartel kingpin—hunts them relentlessly. Louise, armed with voodoo rites and the chaos-hungry loa Marinette, vows to break Dru. Their only allies? The Lou Nwa, a bayou biker gang trading in bullets and black magic, and Papa Legba, the crossroads spirit who offers Dru a lethal bargain: *“Her soul or yours.”* Fleeing through the Deep South’s cursed underbelly, they dodge cartel hitmen, haunted swamps, and safehouses reeking of betrayal. Dark magic seeps into old wounds; family secrets tighten like nooses. Dragon swears he’s too ruined to love. Dru knows she’s too shattered to trust. But in the bayou’s choking heat, desire is a grenade they can’t outrun. This isn’t a fairytale. It’s switchblade kisses and saintly curses—a collision of fire and ruin where protectors become predators. Dru doesn’t need saving; she needs an inferno. And Dragon? He’s got a lighter and nothing left to burn. Will they raze the South to ashes, or become the sacrifice the crossroads demands? One truth remains: in the bayou, even survival leaves scars. **Warning:** No princes here. Just bayou smoke, blood-soaked magic, and the kind of love that devours.

My sister and I were caught up in a severe car accident during a family road trip down the mountain for the New Year. Shattered glass pierced straight through my heart. Amid the excruciating pain, my fiance and family insisted the rescue team take my sister, who only had a scratched arm, to the hospital first. As I cried out for them to save me, my fiance snapped at me. “Carol, you should know when to stop vying for attention! “Delila is bleeding so much. Why must you compete with her?” Dad shook his head and sighed while Mom looked at me with disgust. I forced my stiff neck to look over. They were all surrounding my younger sister. She only sported a faint red mark on her arm. No one saw the blood gushing from my chest. No one heard my fading heartbeat. I died during that snowy, bitterly frigid night. When they finally remembered me and came across my cold body, my fiance and family went mad.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, I discovered I was two months pregnant. I wanted to surprise Owen Reed with the news. However, on my way home with the gift-wrapped ultrasound report, I got caught in a street shootout. A stray bullet tore into my abdomen. Right as I collapsed on the pavement, writhing in pain, Owen appeared out of nowhere. He had told me he was away on business and would not be home until evening, but here he was, frantically shoving through the crowd. He ran right past me and toward a woman up ahead. "I'm sorry I'm late. Don't worry, nothing's going to happen to you." His voice was soft, gentler than I had ever heard it. He swept her up in his arms and disappeared down the street, surrounded by bodyguards. He never saw me. I was barely three feet away, bleeding out on the ground. When I woke up in the hospital, my baby was gone. That was when I knew I was done with this marriage.

"What the fuck—” I started. He looked up at me. His lips were wet, swollen. He licked them slowly, like he was savoring the taste. “Keep your hands where I left them,” he said. My jaw clenched. My knuckles went white against the bedsheets. I didn’t speak. I just watched him. He lowered his mouth again, slower this time. His tongue circled the tip, then slid down the side. I felt every second of it. Every inch. He paused halfway down and looked up at me again. “You like this too much.” My throat tightened. I didn’t answer. “Bet you’ve never let anyone make you beg.” *** Callum Kesington isn’t just a billionaire CEO. He doesn’t believe in love. He believes in control and power.But when his estranged brother resurfaces through a cryptic call, dragging him into a trail of files, threats, and old betrayals, everything he's built starts to crack. Remy Beckett, a rising star in the culinary world, is no strang to love but one man has him unraveled. A single dinner at Remy’s restaurant ignites an attraction that shakes Callum’s carefully guarded world. He’s never wanted a man before. Never craved the scrape of stubble against his skin or the heat of rough hands pinning him down. But Remy? He’s all Callum can think about. A shadowy attack leaves Remy bleeding in Callum’s arms, and suddenly, this isn’t about desire. It's about survival. Someone wants Remy dead, and Callum’s brother is at the center of it. Now, Callum must confront the ruthless empire he built, the family who betrayed him, and the truth he’s been denying.

I was reborn on the day my parents forced me to swear a blood oath before the Moon Goddess. They wanted me to swear I'd give up my mate, Damien — hand him over to my sister, Vivienne. The first time around, I'd refused. I'd cried and fought and begged. I tried everything to make Damien see the truth. I pleaded with my parents to tell him the real story, to stop letting Vivienne impersonate me. All I got in return was Damien's deepening hatred. I'd run from the territory in desperation, trying to find Damien and explain face to face. I was ambushed by rogue wolves on the way. Left bleeding out in the dirt. With my last shred of strength, I reached out through the pack mind-link, begging Damien for help. His voice cut through my mind, cold as ice. "Drop the act. I'm done with your little sympathy plays." "Don't interrupt my Mating Ceremony with Vivienne." Then he severed the link without a second thought. I died alone in the wilderness. The last thing I heard was the distant roar of celebration from the pack territory — Damien and Vivienne's Mating Ceremony. This time, I clenched my fists until my nails bit into my palms. This time, I would never beg again.

Adrielle Holt has everything: beauty, brilliance, and a love she believes is worth bleeding for. When her husband needs a transplant, she chooses him – over her dying father. But love doesn’t save her. He cheats. He steals her legacy. Then tosses her aside like a dirty secret. Shattered, she stumbles into a world she was never meant to enter – and meets him. A man made of sin, who dominates her body, feeds her rage, and teaches her how to destroy men with a smile. Now, she’s back with a new name – obscenely richer, achingly beautiful, sharper, untouchable. She’s seducing boardrooms, wrecking careers, burning through billionaires, and slipping between silk sheets and champagne lies. No one knows who she used to be. She’s not after justice. She’s out for obliteration. And by the time she’s done, Adrielle won’t just ruin the man who betrayed her – She’ll make him beg to worship the wreckage.

When Selene Vireaux, a rogue werewolf, arrives in Chicago to disappear into the noise of the city, she expected loneliness. But then she sees him. Lucas Carter is everything Selene shouldn't want — human, innocent, young, soft — but the moment their eyes meet across a rain-slicked street, something ancient awakens inside her. It's not hunger. It's not instinct. It's need. She stalks him through alleys, watches him in silence, memorizes his every movement from the shadows. But when a violent attack leaves Lucas bleeding in the dark, Selene breaks her vow of distance and reveals herself — beautiful, feral, inhuman — to save him. Now bound by blood, danger, and a connection neither of them can understand, Selene must decide if she’s willing to destroy the fragile peace she’s built just to keep Lucas for herself… and Lucas must choose whether to run from the monster who saved him, or fall into the fire of something far more dangerous than love. Obsession burns. And under the full moon, nothing stays human for long.

My Alpha, Sebastian Blackwood, has been cursed in battle. The Healers say he only has two weeks to live. Following the instructions of the witch, Annabelle Pearson, I sacrificed my wolf for an antidote to his curse. My wolf is ripped from me while I'm fully conscious. It feels as though my soul is being torn apart. The agony nearly makes me black out. Weak and bleeding, I stagger toward Sebastian's house, clutching the vial containing the antidote tightly in my hand. He needs it now. Then, I hear laughter and music drifting through the air. Sebastian's having a party. I crept toward the window. One of his pack mates claps him on the back and praises, "Great work, Alpha—you've truly played Zoreen like a fiddle! That dumbass still believes that you were cursed. Can you believe that?" Sebastian chuckles coldly, "This is just the beginning. If it weren't for Zoreen, Nina wouldn't have lost her voice. Zoreen deserves this!"

Chloe-Anne King is done watching Owen Kyle act like Briarwood High is his personal kingdom. Cocky, adored, and untouchable, he’s the boy everyone fears, and the boy she’s secretly wanted for years, but he won’t see that; they’re not in the same league. So she makes a reckless decision: she’s going to humble him… by getting him exactly where she wants him. One risky night. One dangerous secret. And suddenly Owen has no choice but to play by her rules. But the closer Chloe pulls him, the messier everything gets. Owen stops being just the school’s golden boy; he becomes the one person who sees the cracks in her armor. And when real feelings start bleeding through the lies, the power shifts, the game flips, and Chloe’s the one left exposed. Now their reputations are on the line. Their secrets are slipping. And falling in love might be the most dangerous move either of them can make. She wanted to ruin him. He wanted to forget her. Neither expected to need the other. Briarwood High is about to burn, and they might go down with it.

"Pregnant patient, corpus luteum rupture, heavy bleeding! We need a consent form signed—now!" I stood there holding the clipboard, waiting, when a voice I knew way too well cut through the chaos. "I'm here!" Jimmy. My husband. The same guy who vanished on our anniversary—now signing off on emergency surgery for another woman. He didn't even blink before writing "husband" on the form. Still had our wedding ring on, too. He didn't recognize me behind the mask. Just grabbed my hand and begged. "Please save her. It's my fault. She's pregnant. I messed up. I love her. I can't lose her." His grip tightened. My wedding ring slipped off and hit the floor. I didn't say a word. Just turned and walked into the OR. A doctor beside me, totally clueless, beamed and said, "Dr. Meyer, your test results came back—twins! Your husband's gonna be so happy. Congrats!" I smiled, barely. "Schedule the termination after surgery."