Brooklyn Nine Nine Peralta Novels & Stories

After three years of gathering herbs, I finally returned to Green-Pouch Valley. But my master, Mr. Gu, was not there. On the ground, only a dark red pool of blood remained, soaking his cloth robes. My senior brothers and sisters, usually so lively, were nowhere to be found. My master's wife, Auntie Qin, sat collapsed beside the pool of blood. Her once-black hair was now mostly white, her voice a hoarse whisper as she called to me. "Shuang'er, your master traded his life for the valley's ascension. You must go to the Nine Heavens and offer your thanks." It was only then I understood. The Celestial Lord, Jun Che, in his quest to forge an immortal body for his mortal wife, had coveted my master's rare Celestial Bones of Healing. He used the promise of ascension for everyone in Green-Pouch Valley as bait, then brutally tore the bones from my master's living body. I was born with a strange affliction, a void where joy and sorrow should be. The others in the valley secretly called me a cold-blooded monster. Now, as I stared at the blood-soaked robes of the man who had saved me and treated me like his own daughter, my expression remained blank. "Auntie Qin, did Master do this willingly?" Auntie Qin's eyes instantly reddened. "Jun Che is the Celestial Lord. His word is heavenly law. How could we ever defy it?" I gave a faint nod. "If it was not what Master wanted, then Jun Che deserves to die." Auntie Qin's face went pale with fright. She lunged forward and clutched my arm. "Shuang'er, your master's last words were for you all to protect yourselves, not throw your lives away fighting an unwinnable war against the heavens." I pried her fingers off one by one and looked up at the glittering, golden Celestial Realm beyond the clouds. A faint smile touched my lips. "Auntie Qin, Master taught me that a healer's heart must be compassionate." "But he never taught me that gods can't be killed."

On the night of our third anniversary, Killian missed dinner again. Texted me he was working late at the auto shop. I looked at the $5.90 clearance cake on the table. I'd fought a crowd at the grocery store to buy it. I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat. We need to save for a real house in Brooklyn, I told myself. I put the cake in the fridge. I wrapped my cheap coat tight and walked into the cold to deliver late-night takeout for extra cash. I never expected to run into my "poor" husband at a luxury hotel in Manhattan. He stepped out of a Rolls-Royce in a sharp custom suit, tossing hundred-dollar bills to the valet. A hot woman wearing a priceless pigeon-blood ruby followed behind him, hooking his arm. "Killian, it's snowing so hard. Are you really going back to Brooklyn to play house with your naive little peasant wife?" she whined. Killian looked at the cheap, tarnished silver ring on his finger. A hint of softness crossed his cold eyes. "For three years, she worked five jobs a day to pay off the fake debts I made up. She wouldn't even see a doctor when she was sick." "That's enough. She passed my test. Once I deal with the rat in the family, I'll tell her everything. Give her the glory she deserves as my Donna." The woman bit her lip. "What if she finds out you're a Mafia Don and is just after your money? Why not tell her you have a terminal illness—see if she'll drain her savings to save you. Test her one more time…" Killian stayed quiet for a long time. Finally, he nodded. "One last test. After this, I'm giving her the grandest wedding." The freezing wind howled. I gripped the paper takeout bag. Tears rolled down my face without a sound. I am done with this arrogant, lying love.

I am the wife of Anthony Caster, don of the mafia family in New York. When I was nine months pregnant, he brought a woman named Evelyn Graves into the manor, claiming she’d saved his life. That was the day my nightmare began. She put something in my food. Next thing I knew, I was doubled over in pain. And she had the nerve to blame it on me—said I was being reckless with what I ate. She lost her footing and fell down the stairs, but she told everyone I was the one who shoved her. Every day, she’d cry in front of Anthony about how saving him had left her wounded and unable to bear children, how seeing a pregnant woman broke her heart. But the moment she turned to me, the tears were gone, replaced by a cold smile. “As long as I’m here,” she whispered, “your babies will never be born.” Anthony was convinced I was jealous of her. He locked me away in the abandoned attic of the manor and said, “Reflect on your actions and stop bullying Evelyn.” On the first day they shut me in, the contractions began. I screamed, I begged, I banged on the door. The butler heard me and went to inform Anthony. He said, “Amelia, your due date is three days away. Stop putting on an act. Three days in a snowstorm and you came out fine. This? You can handle this.” On the second day, my water broke. I screamed at the top of my lungs, my fingernails digging into the cracks of the wall, blood spilling all over the floor. The butler went to Anthony again. Evelyn said, “Anthony, she’s making all that noise because she wants you to feel sorry for her and let her out. If you give in now, she’ll only grow more reckless later.” He believed her. On the third day, I stopped screaming. Anthony thought I had finally learned my lesson, unaware that I had already died from the difficult labor. When he finally opened that door, all he would find was my rotting, putrid body.

At nine months pregnant, I was in the final stretch of my term, and my body heavy with a baby due any day. But my husband, Vito Falcone, underboss of the family, had locked me away. He held me in a sterile underground medical room and injected me with a labor suppressant. As I screamed in agony, he coldly told me to endure it. Because his brother's widow, Scarlett, was expected to go into labor at the exact same time. A blood oath he'd made with his late brother declared that the firstborn son would inherit the family's lucrative West Coast territory. "That inheritance belongs to Scarlett's child," he said. "With Daemon gone, she is utterly alone and destitute. You have my love, Alessia. All of it. I just need her to deliver safely. Then it's your turn." The drug was a constant, agonizing torment. I begged him to take me to a hospital. He grabbed me by the throat, forcing me to meet his icy gaze. "Stop the act! I know you're fine. You’re just trying to steal the inheritance." "To get ahead of Scarlett, you'll stop at nothing." My face was ashen. My body convulsed as I managed a desperate whisper. "The baby's coming. I don't care about the inheritance. I just love you, and I want our child to be born safely!" He sneered. "If you were really that innocent, if you had an ounce of love for me, you wouldn't have forced Scarlett to sign that prenup, waiving her child's inheritance rights." "Don't worry, I'll be back for you after she's given birth. you're carrying my own flesh and blood, after all." He kept a vigil outside Scarlett's delivery room all night. It was only after seeing the newborn in her arms that he remembered me. He finally sent his second in command, Marco, to release me. But when Marco finally called, his voice was shaking. "Boss... the missus and the baby... they're gone." In that moment, Vito Falcone shattered.

**Completed. This is the second book in the Baxter Brother's series. It can be read as a stand-alone novel. Almost ten years ago, Landon watched his mate be killed right before his eyes. It changed him. After being hard and controlling for years, he has finally learned how to deal with the fact that she was gone. Forever. So when he arrives in Washington, Landon is shocked to find his mate alive. And he is even more determined to convince her to give him a chance. Brooklyn Eversteen almost died ten years ago. She vividly remembers the beckoning golden eyes that saved her, but she never saw him again. Ten years later, she agrees to marry Vincent in the agreement that he will forgive the debt. But when those beckoning golden eyes return, she finds she must make an even harder decision.

I was nine months pregnant when the Wolf Council sent a resource report to the Luna’s quarters. It listed my mate’s monthly distributions. For two years straight, my husband—the pack’s Alpha—had been secretly providing the same female wolf with territory access, protection, and supplies. Without missing a single month. The first record dated back to two years ago. The same month I lost my first pup. A notification appeared—A contact request. The note read: “A woman kept by an Alpha.” I was strangely calm, one hand rested on my swollen belly as I accepted. She messaged immediately. “You saw the report, didn’t you?” I didn’t reply, I opened her feed instead. The earliest post was dated April 21st, two years ago. A female wolf leaned against an Alpha’s chest. His face was cropped out—but the mark on his shoulder was clear. I recognized it instantly. My mate’s Alpha mark. The caption read: “Thank you for choosing me on my coming-of-age night.” April 21st. That was the night I lay bleeding in the healing room, losing my unborn pup. He had told me he was away on pack business. I kept scrolling. She trained freely in Alpha-only areas. Used resources reserved for the Luna. Was guarded as if she already belonged at his side. Every post carried the same message: He chose her. Pinned at the top was a medical report—She was pregnant—With the Alpha’s pup. I put the device down and returned to our bedroom. Then I received it—Photos. Videos. She sent them to me on purpose— to flaunt that the love I had once been so proud of had already rotted beyond repair. I sat down slowly, my pup shifting inside me, pain spreading through my chest. Only then did I understand—He had betrayed me completely. This kind of love—I don’t want it. This pack—I won’t stay in it. When my pup is born, I will leave—And I will take his heir with me. Let the Alpha search every territory, scour every border, tear the pack apart in regret— he will never find us.

Ever since I started at the Brooklyn Enquirer as a journalist, I've been reporting on stories nobody cares about. But the other day, I found a story that I was sure the audience would sink their teeth into. One that was front-page worthy and would make our newspaper infamous. Except it centers around a mafia boss and his bloodthirsty brothers.  It won't be easy to get it, but I'm determined to prove my worth. And it starts with Darick Dawson. My heart fluttered as we gazed into each other's eyes. At the same time, we leaned forward, and our lips touched. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he stroked his fingers through my hair, pulling at the roots softly, earning a moan from me. He traced his finger around my lips when suddenly, I opened my eyes and noticed the red in his irises getting darker. My Bloodthirsty Mafia Man is written by Claire Wilkins, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author

In the brutal world of Manhattan's finance, Cassius Thornfield ruthlessly controls a $200 billion fintech empire. However, a sudden impact in the rain leaves him with amnesia and a nameless wound, his entire identity erased instantly. A panicked Ella Cross tells him he is her fiancé, "Noah." Cassius is forced into a completely unfamiliar world: a dilapidated Brooklyn apartment, unpaid bills, and a woman's seemingly gentle care. When his memories return, he should send this woman to jail—damn it, why can't he do it? Watching her lips continuously utter lies, he only wanted to punish her severely with his body.She thought she could tame a wounded predator. But a predator, even broken, still knows how to hunt.As layers of deceit fracture and raw truth seeps through, two confused hearts spiral into a passion neither can control.But who is the real Noah? And when the final mask falls, will Cassius be able to accept that he was loved only as a reflection？

“You arranged a marriage for me?" I exclaimed, my voice quivering with anger and disbelief. "How could you? How dare you play with my life?” I sat in disbelief, the weight of my parent's words sinking in like an anchor in my chest. Scarlett Morgan was forced into an arranged marriage with Ethan Donovan, the richest family in Brooklyn, by merging their company with the Donovans to save their family business from total bankruptcy. On meeting Ethan for the first time, she realizes that he's the handsome stranger she shared a passionate one-night stand with two years ago, and he has no memory of her. Caught off guard by this news, Ethan and Scarlett are thrown into a complex situation they never expected. Will they be able to handle the secrets that they have been hiding from each other? As they navigate the complications of their marriage, they'll have to confront their past and turn their unexpected connection into a beautiful love story. But how long will this last? What happens when their ex shows up?

3 years after Brooklyn suffers a huge heartbreak and betrayal from her ex lover,billionaire brian kamryn, everything seemed to be on track. She's focusing on her little bakery, and her best friend,Tegan who had been there for her through all the struggles. Everything seemed to be going smoothly,until billionaire Brian kamryn sees her at an event. All the emotions he had for her came rushing back and he swore to get her back. Dr. James is a medical doctor,who never really had time for women, he was one to focus his all on his job. But that all changed when he walked into a little bakery one morning. He sees her,and he wants her, will he get her? Torn between three men, she would have to choose. Three men, one pâtisserie. One is obsessed, guess who? Did her choice push him to be obsessed? Or was she just too sweet to let go?