Casanova Book Novels & Stories

Again, this is book one in the series The Blessed Ones. If you’re a fan of spicy romances with alpha males and basically anything Mafia-related, go for PRECARIOUS: THE GAME OF HEARTS, which is the first in the Castello Di Carte Mafia Chronicles. This would be my best work and I’m currently working on publishing this book digitally by the end of next year. Fingers crossed. I’m currently writing book 2 of the series and let me warn you, this series is super hot and suspenseful. Anyway, if you want to keep updated with my works, you can follow me on I*******M.

“I’m not.” Cassiel’s grip tightened. “You’re still mine. Whole or broken.” Silence fell again. Julian didn’t pull his hand away. But he didn’t squeeze back either. Cassiel didn’t expect him to. Not yet. Cassiel was still seated beside him, quiet, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. Julian cleared his throat. “There’s a book on that shelf.” Cassiel turned. “Which one?” “The red one. Third from the left. Hardcover.”

Now the entire kingdom could burn politely without them for a few hours. Adrian shifted slightly, sinking deeper into Cassian’s chest. Cassian immediately adjusted with him, like it was instinct. “Read to me,” Cassian said suddenly. Adrian blinked. “You’re holding a book.” “I know.” “You’re literally reading your own book.” Cassian turned a page without shame. “Yours is more interesting.” Adrian glanced down at the cover of his own book. A ridiculous romance novel he had picked up out of boredom and then never put down.

But I have to gather all of my rationality for my future. "I won't think it that way, know why? It's the most wonderful night I ever had. Most wonderful sex I ever had and the most wonderful orgasm I ever had in my life." He said as he reached my hand. "Stop kidding around Casanova. You have a camp, do you?” "I do, but I could cancel that for you." I don't know what he is doing. It's scaring me. Scaring me that I’ll fall in love. "Just go." I shooed him.

I frowned, that is the concept I don’t also understand, he fucking burnt into ashes so how the hell is he alive. “What if…” She paused. “…Victor was reborn?” I stared at her. “…Reborn?” She nodded. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Jane blinked at me. “So much for being the Supreme King.” I rolled my eyes. “Oh, here we go.” “Did you even read the history books my husband spent months collecting for you?” “…Jayden read them.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Well that can’t be helped since he’s the brainy one between you two.”

CONTENT WARNING The Assassin’s Portrait is a Dark Romance featuring heavy themes that are not for the faint of heart. This story is strictly for mature audiences (18+). THEMES: • PSEUDO-TABOO: A forbidden, obsessive step-sibling dynamic. • HARD EROTICA: Graphic sexual content, power play, and BDSM. • GRAPHIC VIOLENCE: Blood, gunplay, and dark criminal themes (Bratva). • MORALLY GRAY CHARACTERS: Obsessive, possessive, and dangerous behavior.

I jumped, heart racing as I turned toward the source of the noise. A stack of books had toppled over, cascading to the floor in a chaotic mess. I took a shaky breath, forcing myself to calm down. It was just the wind, I told myself, just the weight of time pressing down on the old structure. But deep down, I felt the stirring of something else. I could almost hear her whispers, soft and alluring, luring me back into her world. As I stood there, surrounded by the remnants of the past, I realized that I was no longer merely investigating an old asylum.

Piece by piece and faction by faction, the arrangement mirrored the balance of the city: kings and queens and pawns caught within a game beyond their own doing. He reached for his coffee, the porcelain cup warm against his fingertips. He took a slow sip, savoring the moment. Vito and Arnulfo had shown themselves capable of stirring chaos, but chaos was Victor's favorite terrain. He thrived in it, maneuvering the disorder to his advantage.

Where have I heard that name before? Deciding I had enough of listening to the news, I turn the TV off as I put on some music before I focus on the book I am reading. I am reading a Mafia romance where the male lead is the mafia underboss, and he falls for the girl that is the sunshine to his grumpy mood. I can’t help but snort from time to time thinking how can she fall for everything he does to her. How he plays and manipulates her without giving nothing back. I must have fallen asleep while I was reading in bed after dinner because when I open my eyes and stretch my arms I feel like I have slept for hours. I look around the room and remember the morning I woke up in Dash’s bed.

After hearing those words, Hideous couldn't contain his feelings anymore. As everything has sank in, he couldn't think of it as mere competition anymore. How could it be called competition when its lives have already been jeopardized because of it? It's simply a murder. Hideous clenched his fist in frustration as he tried to calm himself down. The anger inside him seems to be starting to resurface and needs to be handled well. "Damn Joseph Santos," he growled through gritted teeth, his voice laced with contempt. This enemy of his, from the very start, had crossed paths, and he really wanted to take him down. Even trying to do something so bad like this. "That twisted, conniving bastard will