Camp Kikiwaka Hazel

I was supposed to expose the Bratva monster's scandal, but instead, I became his obsession. I'm Irina, a librarian determined never to marry so I could care for my grandmother, who suffers from dementia—my only relative and my reason for living. He was Miron Pavlov, the blood-stained leader of the Bratva. He entered my life, but I couldn't fix it. He was here to take control, to make me his contract mistress turned legal wife. I tried to resist, but he was relentless, ruthlessly possessive. His hazel eyes undressed me, dragging me into his cruel world, making me question everything. So I ran when I discovered I was pregnant, unwilling to raise my child in his company. But Miron didn't care about the rules of his family, his cartel, his world. He pursued me, he desired me. Would his dark love change me? Or would she choose an ordinary man who would be much better at raising her child?

Violet Hathaway is a skeptical young woman who has never believed in the legends of her small town. Daughter of a traditional family, she never imagined that the supernatural was part of her daily life. Her life changes when she witnesses a vampire murder her family, now Violet is forced to enter the dangerous forest to survive. " — You should have heeded the warnings, human. You should have stayed away from my hunting grounds. Her dark voice made Violet's body tremble. She couldn't believe what she just saw, a man turned into a beast right before her eyes! Her legs were shaking, she couldn't run anymore, she knew that sooner or later he would find her and end her life. — I found you. Her husky voice sounds seductive and she can't help but sigh when she sees his hazel eyes watching her with such intensity. — Now you're mine, little one." The Rise of the Moon Series: BOOK 1

During the mandatory freshman orientation camp, my skin had flared up with a severe allergic reaction, so I didn't use the plastic washbasin the school handed out. Instead, I opened my suitcase and took out the custom silver basin I had brought from home. My roommate, Louisa Carter, immediately made a snide remark, drawling, "You're really something, huh? Kids from broke families like us are lucky to have any basin at all." I didn't bother responding. I simply pulled out my facial essence to do a cold compress, but she immediately rushed over, slapped the bottle out of my hand, and jabbed a finger at my face. "Bet you get tens of thousands a month for living expenses. You have a sugar daddy, don't you? Don't you feel guilty making your folks work their fingers to the bone back on the farm? People like you don't deserve to be at our school. I'm reporting you to the student counselor." I laughed in disbelief and slapped her. … The next morning, the family photo I'd left on my desk had been slashed to ribbons. Across the back, carved in ink, were the words: 'Daughter of a homewrecker. Go to hell.' I went straight to the police. While officers pulled the dorm security footage, our student counselor and the university president rushed in. The moment the president saw the man whose face had been cut apart in my photo, his legs nearly buckled. He almost dropped to his knees.

Knock Knock “Boss?” “Come in.” Pagkatapos ng pahintulot, agad na bumukas ang pinto ng opisina. “Narito na po ang mga dokumentong kailangan ninyo.” “Dalhin mo rito,” utos ng lalaki. Nag-aatubili ang sekretarya na lumapit—marahil dahil naroon pa ang ina ng kanyang boss at ayaw niyang makisali sa usapan. Maingat na lumapit ang dalagang may maayos na tindig, at iniabot ang mga dokumento sa presidente ng kompanya na nakaupo sa kanyang upuan. Ngunit sa halip na kunin ang folder, hinawakan ng lalaki ang kamay niya at hinila siya paupo sa kanyang kandungan Nanlaki ang mata ng babae, nanigas sa gulat, at hindi makapagsalita. “Lorien! Anong ginagawa mo sa kanya?!” Napabalikwas ng tayo ang ina ng lalaki sa labis na pagkagulat. “Mula ngayon, hindi mo na kailangang uminom ng pills. Gusto na ng mama ko ng apo.” “Ano???” Nagulat si Madame Hazel sa narinig mula sa anak.

Brooklyn Davis, at nineteen works as a waitress at an upscale restaurant in downtown Chicago. Two days back, her twin brother, Brandon had suddenly disappeared with a message that asked her not to worry about him. Brooklyn is in a strange dilemma when weird things start happening at her workplace. She is watched and stalked by a pair of hazel eyes every day, every minute. Who is the man? Why was he watching her all the time? How will Brooklyn ever get rid of him? At twenty-nine, Nikolas Ardolf is hard, arrogant and a ruthless monster who only understands two things, business and money. Having been abandoned on the streets at birth, he had a very hard childhood but all that changed when he was picked up by the ruthless old man, Daniel Ardolf, unmarried and the sole owner of Ardolf Winery. He hates women after his own mom had betrayed him. Then why does he stalk the innocent Brooklyn everyday? What does he want? Why can't he stay away from her?  Read this passionate love story of how Nikolas Ardolf chases the sweet Brooklyn. Will he get what he wants?

"I rather get dragged in the mud with chains by moving horses or be beaten with a club with nails on it than lose my virginity to you," she spat, looking at him with hate in her eyes, hoping her eyes conveyed the degree of contempt she felt when she spat out the words. Anger and disbelief flashed in his eyes. She was going to be the first woman that would ever reject him, and in such a preposterous manner. He stood up and went over to her while she gummed her back to the wall, having no other room to step back. He gripped her chin with his strong palm, forcing her to look at him, his wicked grey eyes bore into her hazel ones. "What if it's your only ticket to freedom?" "As I said, I rather die." He quickly shoved her onto the bed and she scooted away as he moved towards her. "I am Eros Castillo, leader of the El dragon gang, you dare not reject me, nobody rejects me," he said in a low husky voice, his eyes five shades darker, his countenance grim and dangerous.

The dormitory entrance downstairs is completely blocked. After squeezing to the front row, a he-wolf from the physical training camp next door points and whistles at me. "Look, that's the Luminian vixen. She's famous for being a notch-collector and will do it with any Alpha." My bed is strewn with rotten meat and animal entrails. On the wall, the words "Harlot", "Floozy", and "Tart" are scrawled in bright red lipstick. Jessica Cobb, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed cheer captain, holds up her phone. "Girls, I really don't want to expose her, but she's just filthy," she says with a face filled with contempt. "She's worse than a dog in heat. On Monday, it was the little hottie with the six-pack abs in his Ferrari. "Wednesday, it was the mature Alpha who reeks of cigars and has eyes that look like they want to devour you in his Bentley. Yesterday, it was that old gentleman with the monocle who's into domination in his Rolls-Royce." She shoves the photos right in the faces of the surrounding women. "Clearly, she didn't come here to study, but to find a sugar daddy." Despite the crystal-clear pictures showing me in those cars, I can't reveal that the men with me are my obsessively controlling older brother, my hot-tempered uncle, and my great-uncle. Respectively, they are the Alpha King of Lumin, the Chief Justice, and the Chair of the Elders' Council. The surrounding male werewolves burst into laughter, their eyes roaming over my thighs. "Hey, Luminian doll, how much for one night? I'd like a taste of you too." They have no idea that these men they're fantasizing about as my sugar daddies are actually the werewolf elders they can least afford to mess with in this lifetime.

He asked me to take everything. Every kiss. Every fight. Every quiet morning he ever let himself be soft with me. Every single memory of the five years we spent loving each other in secret. He said it was the only way to keep me safe. That if he walked into the enemy’s camp knowing he had a mate, they would use me to destroy him. So he asked me to hold his memories inside me, like I was a box he could trust, and he promised he would come back for them in six months. That was five years ago. Caius is home now. But he doesn’t remember me. He doesn’t remember any of it. And the worst part? He is falling in love with me all over again, slowly, the way he did the first time, and I am standing here with all of him inside my head, watching him meet me like a stranger. I know every single thing about him. His nightmares. The way he takes his coffee. The scar on his ribcage from the night he almost died protecting me. The exact words he said when he first told me he loved me. He knows nothing about me. And now the people he spent five years hunting are closing in, the mission is falling apart, and the only way to save him is to give him back everything he asked me to take. But if I do that, he will remember everything they did to me while he was gone. And the Caius who remembers is not the kind of man who lets things go.

"You're a woman. Where's your brother? I would like to talk to him." She rolled her eyes, raising her pistol at him, fear crossed his hazel eyes. "Being a woman doesn't make this gun any less deadly. So if I were you, I would watch what I say because, to me, your life means nothing," Natalia told him firmly. "I'll ask you one more time and think about your answer because my patience is running thin. Where is my money?" "I don't have it!" She aimed the pistol to his right leg, pulling the trigger, the silencer made sure no one could hear the shot only his screams. "Where is the money, Michael?" - She is a drug He wants to taste One drop of her Is all it takes To have you addicted Where ever she goes Death follows But he didn't care Since he knew He'd die for her She is fire He'd touch Despite the heat She is a killer But so is he. This woman was both the devil and an angel. -

“Where’s that bastard?” My eyes snapped toward the woman storming into the room like a hurricane. “I couldn’t stop her, Mr. Darian!” I waved the guy away and studied the woman whose hair looked like it had gone through war, clearly fighting her way up here. My brothers looked just as entertained as I did confused. “Which bastard?” “My bastard of a husband! Where is Darian Freeman?” My brothers burst out laughing like they’d just witnessed the world’s finest comedy show. I, however, failed to see the joke. She smoothed her wild hair, fixing those hazel eyes on me. “Tell me where he is. I swear I won’t kill him. I just want to shove these papers down his throat,” she said, waving the papers in my face. “There must be a mistake,” I said, still trying to piece this insanity together. “Oh stop feeding me fairy tales! Where is that son of a bitch?” “Are you insane? There’s clearly a mistake here! I am Darian Freeman and I am one hundred percent sure I am not your husband!”