Book Paranormal Romance Novels & Stories

"Not really, but I don't see any other option. We're running out of time." "Okay," Elena says, nodding. "Let's do it." We move towards the shadow, and I take a deep breath before stepping into it. I feel a chill run down my spine as the darkness envelops me, but then ... nothing. It's just dark. "Hello?" I call out tentatively. No answer. My panic rises. Oh, no. I've lost them all! Damon, Elena, Hank ... Alec. Nausea rises in my chest, and I'm just about to fall to my knees when a hand slips into mine. The touch is familiar, the comfort it brings indescribable.

Nerves tangled in my belly as I wandered to Lucas’s sitting room and laid the pages out on the table. The first was a brief introduction to Akard—an underground, human-hunting organization meant to target supernatural creatures for biological experimentation. Beneath the brief description were the words, “Main targets: werewolves.” I squinted at the pages, confused. I thought the papers I’d been given had something to do with the attack on my family. Why would Brigid want me to read this? A chill walked up my spine like the cold, leggy slither of a centipede.

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It was now time to talk about the gloomy part of the story and I wanted to give her time to prepare her mind to accept it. “The day she died was the darkest day of our Pack, not only because she died that day but because several thousand people both men, women, and children fell alongside her. We were ambushed that night by some rogue werewolves we suspect are affiliated with Fire-blood Pack but we haven’t been able to gather substantial evidence to wipe their entire existence from the face of the earth. Most of the rogues we later found were all dead while the only one we found alive refused to give out the location and names of his sponsors no matter what we did to him.”

"This isn’t a romance novel, Nanny. This is my life, and I’m just trying to do my job without embarrassing myself." Nanny laughs, clearly enjoying this way too much. "Oh, Isa. You’re making it sound like it’s the worst thing in the world. Just imagine it—a forbidden workplace romance, secret glances, and the tension! Oh, how thrilling! The babysitter and the boss. You’ve already got the perfect setup." I glare at her. "Nanny, stop. He’s my boss, and he has a child. A cute child, by the way, who is clearly going through something. I’m not about to entertain any fantasies about him."

And I’m going to start with the weird tattoo parlor she’s suddenly become obsessed with over the last few weeks. I yank the parlor door open and step inside. So flipping what? A werewolf tattoo shop. What’s so special about that? Lyra has always been fascinated by the supernatural. Why? I have no idea. Humans don’t mingle with werewolves or vampires. It isn’t safe. It isn’t normal. Rational people don’t venture to Ashridge Hollow. Leave it to Lyra to start a new trend.

“So this is it? You own me now?” Azrael took a step forward, his presence suffocating and magnetic all at once. “No. I claimed you. There's a difference, Mrs Azrael,” He extended a goblet toward me, filled with a dark red liquid. Not wine. Not blood. Something in-between. “To new beginnings,” he said. I didn’t take it. I stared at the goblet, then at him. “You saved me to bind me.” “I saved you Yasmine and come on, we had a deal, I save you and in return you love me,” he said calmly,

SOMETHING STRANGE IS HAPPENING IN THE WEREWOLF COMMUNITY. THERE HAVE BEEN REPORTS OF ATTACKS ON FAMILIES WITH UNUSUAL ABILITIES - HEALERS, SEERS, WOLVES WITH RARE GIFTS. THE ATTACKS ALWAYS SEEM RANDOM, BUT I'M STARTING TO WONDER IF THERE'S A PATTERN WE'RE NOT SEEING. My blood ran cold. Seraphina had been aware of the attacks on special bloodlines, just like I had learned from the library books. I continued reading, my heart racing as I realized that Seraphina had been investigating the same conspiracy that had killed my parents.

The scent of her fear struck me harder than sunlight, but beneath it I caught the heat of arousal, the way her thighs pressed together despite the words. The protest tore me open. My hunger screamed to correct her—to show her that what I offered was not damnation but a doorway. I forced the beast back, forcing each word past clenched teeth. “This is not turning. It is borrowing. You say no, and I will never offer again.” My hand dragged down her body as I spoke, nails grazing until she gasped, proving how shallow her denial was. "But if you say yes… you will know me in ways no mortal body could ever survive."

Their hollow eyes made my skin crawl. "Exchange your vows." The ghost bride slowly lowered her head toward me. In that instant, a small piece of skull slipped loose from the side of her forehead and fell. Right then, I heard the system notification: [Ding! Congratulations on successfully selecting your target: Ximena Ferguson.] [Target has gifted you a blood-red formal suit. It has been added to your inventory. Bonus reward: one universal glue.] [Please remove the nail from Ximena's head and use the universal glue to repair her skull to increase intimacy.]