Bone Graphic Novels & Stories

Whenever the Alpha's little sister suffered an episode, my Luna ceremony would end in disaster. On the first attempt, my wine was laced with honey, and I ended up having a stroke from an allergic reaction, with the entire pack laughing at me. On the second attempt, I was stabbed three times in the stomach, rendering me infertile. On the third attempt, a lunatic rogue wolf barged in and crushed every bone in my finger, cutting short my pianist career right then. Whenever I tried to express grief, Yohan Schmidt would always take Eva Brown's side. "She suffered mental regression to save me. Be the bigger person and don't hold it against her." "Next time—the next ceremony will be perfect, I promise." He made that promise 99 times over three years, and on the 100th attempt, Eva gave up on all pretense and set the wedding hall on fire. I was burned to a crisp and had to heal for a month. Through it all, Yohan nursed me and fed me a ton of medicine… until I overheard him talking to Andy King, the shaman. "You're truly ruthless, Alpha. She was thoroughly burned because she was trying to save you, but you're feeding her a suppressant that stifles her regeneration. Over time, she will succumb to her injuries!" Yohan shrugged nonchalantly. "I just can't stand her bullying Eva. Eva saved my life—so what if Yvie Stark pays for it with my life?" Tears rolled down my cheeks in silence. So even his warmth and tenderness was nothing more than cold deception. In that case, I should just leave.

When I opened my eyes again, I was pinned against the floor-to-ceiling window of the skyscraper by my stepbrother, Rocco. The man I had been infatuated with for a decade. He panted, his hot lips and tongue trailing along my collarbone as he murmured, "Don't go." In my past life, on the night I received my acceptance letter from London Business School, Rocco got blind drunk. Late that night, I gave in to his pleas for me to stay. I willingly gave myself to him. After a debauched night, his cherished fiancée, Clara, caught me walking out of his room the next morning, my clothes in disarray. She ran out in tears, her parting words ringing in the air, "I'll let you have each other." A month after she disappeared, the family search party found her engagement ring at the edge of a cliff. At the bottom of the cliff lay mangled remains, battered by the waves until they were unrecognizable. Rocco clutched that ring and didn't sleep all night. On the surface, he acted as if nothing had happened, even arranging a trip for me to Sicily, telling me to go and relax. The night I landed, I was kidnapped by assassins from a rival family. I screamed for him to pay the ransom, only to hear him give the order himself over the phone: "Don't make her death a quick one. The Costello princess? She's nothing but a damn liability. Torture her. Break every bone in her body. " "This is what she owes Clara." You like playing games, Rocco. But in this life, I refuse to play along.

My best friend has always been stingy to the bone, so the moment she volunteers to buy a bottle of water for the heir to Bellaris' most powerful family, who collapsed from heatstroke, I know she has been reborn, too. In my previous life, she and I sat for the college entrance exam together, and when the results were announced, we both got the same high score. Both of us had our eyes on Kingsley University, yet the admissions quota was limited, and neither of us wanted to jeopardize our friendship, so we kept delaying our application. In the blink of an eye, it was the last day to file our applications, and as I was about to start on mine, I stumbled upon the heir to Bellaris' most powerful family, who happened to be suffering from heatstroke. I not only bought him a bottle of water, but I also held an umbrella over him until he came to. By the time he regained consciousness, I had already missed the submission deadline. My best friend submitted hers just in time and got accepted into Kingsley University. Because I never submitted mine, the opportunity to attend university slipped past me. However, the heir apparent was touched by my act of kindness, and he asked for my hand in marriage. In the end, I married him and became a socialite, whereas my best friend, despite getting into Kingsley University, was overwhelmed by the demanding curriculum. Watching me live with more money than I could spend, she was fueled with jealousy until one day, she snapped and stabbed me. The moment I open my eyes again, my best friend and I are back on the day the heir to Bellaris' most powerful family passes out from the heat.

I am the white wolf princess of the Coyote Pack. By the Moon Goddess’s decree, Barry was meant to be my fated mate. But during the peace negotiations, he gave me away—to Bayport’s crippled warrior, Colin—as a “hostage bride.” Barry smiled carelessly, his voice cruelly tender. “Emily, let me complete the bond with Evelyn first. This is just a deal. You are still my true Luna.” My nails bit into my palms, pain hollowing out my chest. Evelyn was nothing but a low-blood she-wolf he had rescued from the border. Yet for her, he used a truce marriage alliance to force me into surrender. Later, when I sought him out, I found him tending Evelyn’s wounds, wrapping her with gentle hands. He looked up, his tone light as if it cost him nothing. “If you let Evelyn be my mate alongside you, and divide half of your inheritance for her, I will withdraw the marriage alliance order.” I took off the bone pendant he once risked his life to give me and held it out to him. But he let it slip from his hand, shattering it against the floor. “If you don’t want it,” he said coldly, “then throw it away.” On the eve of the wedding alliance, Evelyn fell to her knees before the pack, sobbing as she accused me of hiding the Alpha’s Contract Stone—to help Colin breach our borders. The crowd erupted in whispers. Barry admitted it was he who had gifted me the stone, yet still turned on me, demanding: “If I ask for it back, will you return it?” At that moment, I finally let every hope die.

“I want to taste you, can I?" He asked pleadingly. I was gonna say no, but the throbbing in my nether region said yes. “Yes," I breathed shakily. He then started to kiss my hip bone trailing as he pulled my panties off. “Raise your legs," he instructed and I obeyed. He pulled my legs apart and inhaled. “Exquisite," he praised as he lowered his head and gave me a long, luxurious lick. ************ Dionnah Delaney is a hardworking, ambitious African American. She is headstrong and knows exactly what she wants in life. She does accounting plus she runs a successful design business with her other sister Danielle, who is engaged to Johnathan Mulroney. Johnny cannot stop raving about his other brother Mikey who has retired from being a Navy seal and he's coming home just in time for the big wedding. Dionnah doesn't want love and commitment after her first love broke her heart several years ago. But things change when Mikey steps into the picture. He's a billionaire playboy, who is smug and conceited on top of all that. Even though the two butt heads they can't deny their undeniable attraction. After one night of steamy sex, Dionnah and Mikey agree to never talk about it again, until weeks later when two pink lines show up on a pregnancy test. What will happen when Mikey wants more than what Dionnah has to offer, will she be able to let love in her heart, or will her ambivalence cause her to miss her chance at happiness and her forever after?

*Hollis Bogard isn’t known for her commitment. In fact, she’s content leading a single, flirtatious life. That might change after meeting Whitney York, a free spirited artist thirsting for adventure.Having been cursed out, chased, and scorned by every broken hearted woman twenty eight year old heroin addict Hollis Bogard has slept around with, she’s not fazed at all by any of it. Always preferring to look for the next best set of kissable lips. Life as an emotionally unavailable bachelorette has served her well, and after all...everyone was warned before anything happened. Feelings were a big no. Hollis had seen what love did to her parents, and wanted nothing to do with the white picket-fenced lie. So long as her bed was warm when she needed it to be, that’s what mattered.Californian Whitney York is ready for a new start. While spontaneity wasn’t a strong suit of her’s, packing up everything she owned into her little black 2008 Toyota Prius and driving cross country to Auburn, Maine was the best idea she’d had all year. No more nagging mother, to hell with her father always comparing Whitney to her successful sister, Theresa. The one with the prestigious acting career, doting husband, and two all American poster children. She wanted to be free to figure out her own destiny. When elusive Hollis bumps into electrifying Whitney at a local bar on the outskirts of town, sparks fly between the unlikely pair.Disclaimer: Strong sexual content, graphic sex scenes, drug usage. 18+, please. This novel won’t be for you if you’re not comfortable with any of the above topics.2019 All Rights Reserved (you know how it goes) Please don’t attempt to steal any part of my work.

I came to Hawaii chasing sun, surf, and freedom. Instead, I woke up drugged, locked in a cage, and halfway across the world. They said I was payment for a debt I never owed. They called me a gift for Valiente Cárdenas, Mexico’s most ruthless cartel king. He never asked for me. He didn’t want me. But the moment I fought back, I caught his dangerous attention… and sealed my fate. I should be plotting escape every second his gaze burns into me. Yet every time he calls me “Little Red,” my body betrays me. The most terrifying truth? Part of me is already forgetting why I ever wanted to run. “Why do you always call me that?” I whispered. He grinned, fingers twisting in my soft curls. “Because you turn bright red every time you hear the word ‘fuck.’” ☾⋆⁺₊✧✧✧✧✧₊⁺⋆☽ ⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️ This is a dark romance with extreme, explicit, and disturbing content. It explores intense power imbalances, obsession, and taboo fantasies. It is not a representation of healthy relationships or real-life consent. The story contains or leads into: * Abduction/kidnapping. * Prolonged captivity and imprisonment. * Psychological manipulation and gaslighting. * Extreme dominance and submission. * Bondage and restraint (ropes, chains, collars, leashes) * Impact play (spanking, flogging, whipping) * Forced voyeurism via mirrors. * Orgasm control/denial/edging. * Rough and graphic sexual content (including oral, anal, and more) * Trauma, fear, helplessness. * Obsessive/possessive behavior. * Revenge-driven hatred. * Family betrayal, and mild paranormal elements (ghostly whispers and apparitions). This is fiction for adults who enjoy dark, taboo fantasies. Real-life BDSM requires safe, sane, consensual practices with safewords and aftercare—none of which are consistently present here. If any of these themes are triggering, please skip this book. Your mental health comes first. xoxo, SarahBlythe 🖤

TRIGGER WARNING 🔞 This novel contains mature themes intended for ADULT READERS ONLY. Future chapters will include explicit sexual content, graphic erotic scenes, and explicit dialogue that may not be suitable for all audiences. Lights off. Masks on. Rules carved in stone. In a world where love is nothing two broken souls make a pact of pleasure only. No love allowed. Purple Hearts has learned the hard way that love destroys everything it touches. Echo Reid knows love is a lie. Scarred by a past he can’t outrun, For him, intimacy is just a game—a way to numb the pain that never truly fades. “Spread your legs, my sweet Purple,” he groans against her skin, his voice dark “Please…” she begs, her nails digging into his back as pride dissolving “Please what?” he teases, dark and dangerous. “I want you inside me,” she rasps, sweat beading on her forehead as she surrenders to the stranger who makes her feel more alive. His lips trace paths of fire across her body, sending jolts of unfamiliar ecstasy through her veins. But when her hands fly to his face, almost tearing away the mask that hides him from her, he pulls back—cold, sharp, unforgiving. “Sweet Purple,” he says, a smile playing at his lips, “remember the rules.” Before she can apologize, he’s gone—vanishing into the shadows as if he was never there at all, leaving her alone in the silence. “Until we meet again.” But what happens when the masks start to slip? When the lines between pleasure and pain blur? When two people who swore they’d never love again find themselves craving more than just a moment in the dark? Is love truly a tragedy… or could it be the only thing that can save them both?

One of Ethan Sterling's closest friends got drunk and humiliated me. Called me a nobody orphan who married above her station, said I'd never be accepted by the Sterlings, that I wasn't fit to sit at their table. Ethan smashed a bottle over the man's head. He announced in front of everyone that if anyone ever disrespected me again, he'd make them pay. When I was pregnant and the morning sickness was so brutal I couldn't keep anything down, he went and scheduled a vasectomy. He didn't want me to suffer through another pregnancy. This was a man who loved me like I was his whole world. And yet — when I was lying on the operating table about to give birth, he was standing right in front of me with his arms around Iris, putting on a show for anyone watching. Iris was the daughter of another old-money family and she'd donated bone marrow to save Ethan's mother's life. The night before her own engagement, her fiance betrayed her, and the trauma wiped her memory clean. Now the only thing she knew for certain was that Ethan Sterling was her husband. In her world, I was the homewrecker — the scheming woman using the bastard in her belly to force her husband into a divorce. Ethan promised me it was all an act. Just repaying the debt for his mother's life. Once Iris recovered, he'd walk away from her immediately. But when I picked up the surgical consent form for him to sign, and his first instinct was to pull Iris behind him — to shield her — I knew. His heart had already drifted off course. The fairy tale of a Cinderella marrying into high society was over. Time to wake up.

Bianca is dying. Acute myeloid leukemia, stage three. The family doctor told me on the phone—bone marrow transplant, only option, perfect match. Identical twins share ninety-nine percent compatibility. I crushed the diagnosis report. My name was at the top: Gemma Blackwell. But the doctor trembled, whispering apologies. A clerical error. The sick twin was Bianca. The cure was me. I had to get home. Rain lashed the taxi windows. I rehearsed the scene: Father setting down his cigar, Mother gasping, me explaining the mix-up. The report has my name, but the blood work is Bianca's. I can fix this before it's too late. My phone lit up. Family group chat. Father's message was short: [Gemma is terminal. Bianca forbidden from donation. Family decision.] My blood turned to ice. They had seen the misdelivered file. They thought I was the one dying—and they had voted to let me rot. When I pushed open the door and saw Father, I felt it— the temperature drop, the world freezing around me. Tears burned my eyes. I couldn't stop them. "Father," I said, my voice barely steady. "I have a question for you." He looked up from his cigar, annoyed. "If it were Bianca dying," I whispered. "Would you have made me give her my marrow?" The room went silent. He set down the cigar. A long pause. "No," he said finally. "Of course. We have resources. We would find another donor. We would never ask you to take that risk." I smiled a little. Just a small, sad smile. "Good," I said softly. "That's exactly what you said. Don't regret this."