Crimson Mask Novels & Stories

In a world where werewolves rule from the shadows and humans live in carefully crafted ignorance 17 YrAria Blackwood receives an invitation that will shatter everything she believes to be true. Selected for the prestigious Crimson Moon Academy—a place where the "fortunate few" humans are groomed to become mates for powerful werewolf alphas-Aria thinks she's escaping her cursed life as the town outcast. Born with strange silver eyes and raised by a grandmother who speaks in riddles, she's spent years hiding abilities she doesn't understand. But Crimson Moon Academy isn't the paradise promised in the glossy brochures. It's a hunting ground where humans are prey, alphas are predators, and survival means playing a game with rules written in blood. Worse still, Aria catches the attention of the Shadow Princes—four ruthless alpha heirs who rule the academy with iron claws Kaine, the Northern Prince, whose icy demeanor hides a dangerous obsession. Zephyr, the Southern Prince, whose charm is as lethal as his bite. Raven, the Eastern Prince, who sees through every lie and keeps darker secrets. Lysander,the Western Prince, the cruelest of them all, who views humans as toys to break. Each wants to claim her.Each wants to destroy her. And each holds a piece of the puzzle to her true identity—an identity that could either save their world or burn it to ash. As Aria uncovers the academy's bloody secrets and her own forbidden heritage, she realizes she's not just another human lamb led to slaughter. She's something far more dangerous. Something that was never meant to exist. The alphas wanted a prey to hunt.Instead, they awakened a predator But in a game where trusting anyone means death, and her own blood might be the deadliest betrayal of all, Aria must decide: Will she embrace the monster within.

Regina Hale survived the night that shattered her world — but survival came at a cost. Six years later, she lives on the edge of her pack, far from the memories that still haunt her dreams… until fate brings the one man she can never forget back into her life. Alpha Aldric Thorn has spent years searching for answers — and for the mate destiny promised him. When their bond finally ignites, so does a darkness neither of them escaped. Because something ancient is hunting again. And this time… it wants Regina. As secrets unravel and betrayal cuts deeper than claws, Regina and Aldric must face the monster hiding in plain sight — before it tears their world apart. Some bonds are written in blood. And some wars are fought for love.

A letter in crimson ink. A name she hasn’t heard in years. A place that doesn’t exist on any map. Bestselling author Sloane Maren receives a single line in an unmarked envelope: “Come to Elandra Isle. One guest. One week. One truth.” No signature. No explanation. Just the haunting certainty that someone knows what she did. Drawn by a past she’s tried to forget, Sloane arrives at the remote island estate expecting closure. Instead, she finds Theo—the man who once shattered her trust—waiting with secrets of his own. Each night unravels something darker. Each touch uncovers a memory she buried deep. And someone on the island is watching her.. As old passions ignite and hidden agendas surface, Sloane must decide what’s real and what was always a lie. Because some truths are written in blood. And some invitations should never be accepted.

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.

Have you seen anyone die in front of you? No? Well, I have, more times than I can count. I seem to have a morbid attraction to . Maybe it's like a superpower or maybe it’s a curse. Particularly the Crimson curse, as I like to call it. You would think that doesn't affect me anymore. You are right to think that because that is what I had thought until a week ago. I guess seeing your parents get murdered in front of your eyes and seeing their blood and life slowly drain out of their body isn't the same as seeing your neighbour die from a heart attack when you were 9.One more thing you should know about me is that I can make you sleep with one touch. My parents both were doctors and put their abilities to best use. My father could heal everyone other than himself and my mother like myself could drop a person to sleep with just one stroke of the hand.Now I am off to Aliam academy for mastering my supernatural ability, apparently for which my mother enrolled me before dyeing. Well, looking at the bright side, there is one boy with violet-blue eyes and curly black hair and I am falling head over heels for him.

Amelia, a sheltered vampire princess, dares to step into the human world when she convinces her father to let her attend college. Torn between her royal duties and her longing for a normal life, she never expects to meet her fated mate—a powerful werewolf alpha. Their forbidden connection ignites a love that could bridge their worlds or destroy them both.

⚠️ Mature Content Warning: This novel contains adult themes, explicit romance, violence, and emotionally intense situations. Reader discretion is advised. ————————————————————— “I expect loyalty, Margot. We marry in four days and you’re getting calls like that? What the fuck have you been doing?” My voice isn’t calmed down enough but I restrain myself from punching a wall. I wasn’t young and stupid but these rash reactions were making it seem as though I was. Tears welled in her eyes and I silently cursed myself. My bride. Just days before our wedding, I am screaming at her. Is this a product of the Binding? Making me a control freak? I came to her room for alone time with her, not to fight with her. I think she is going to give a meek answer to my question but instead she wipes her tears with the back of her hand and glares at me. “So you can fuck and feed from a Registry whore an hour before we go to the Binding ceremony, but I am expected to be loyal to you? You saw me watch that night. Did I yell at you?” —————————————————————— Every 25 years, a human from one of the five elite dynasties must marry into one of the five vampire houses to keep the peace of the Accord, a treaty between the ten families. Now it’s Margot’s turn to marry except she’s taking her dead sister’s place to marry the King of all vampires. Preserving the peace and producing a Crimsonborn is her duty, but she was groomed for society, not submission. Her immortal husband to be is not only the vampire king, Nathaniel Blackwell, but a calculating man who doesn’t want or need a wife. Or so he claims.

Aiden Hale tends to deceased souls in a funeral home, amidst quietness, darkness, and lingering spirits’ whispers. To everyone else, he is merely quiet and aloof, but to some, he holds a lethal secret: he sees spirits. The restless spirits beckon to him, calling for peace, confession, and sometimes vengeance. But recently, there has been something else haunting him. A living person. A masked stalker has been trailing Aiden. This stalker has been leaving Aiden roses and messages, which are sweet and frightening all at once – always with the presence right behind. And suddenly the stalker’s victims begin to appear in the body bags Aiden prepares every day, further muddying the distinction between the living and the dead. And then there's the stepbrother, Ezra Grayson. Charming. Brilliant. And ridiculously overprotective. He's always on hand when Aiden needs him—perhaps a little bit too much. His eyes linger on his face for a fraction of a second too long. The softness of his voice is just a fraction too soft. The smile that stays on his lips for a fraction of a second longer. The more Aiden fights to get out from under the stranger's mask, Until the truth bursts open like a coffin lid. The stalker and his half-brother are the same individual, a male who will kill anyone who dares to threaten Aiden, resulting in a trail of angry spirits and a love plagued by obsession. Aiden finds himself poised between saving Ezra’s soul or being overwhelmed by the darkness that holds not only him but the stalker. Because it is inasmuch as love, being born from sin, that it dies not in silence

The day after the new year, during a family gathering, my aunt sneered at me as I worked overtime, reviewing a proposal. "Why are you pretending to be so busy? It’s not like we don’t know you only make three thousand a month. Real money-makers are people like my daughter, a designer so successful she doesn’t even have time to come home!" I ignored her, but she directed her spoiled son to delete all my files while I was in the bathroom. My hands trembled with rage. "This proposal is due in ten minutes—if I don’t submit it, everything is ruined!" She scoffed dismissively. "He’s just a kid. What could he possibly know? Besides, your job isn’t even worth much. If you lose the files, you lose them. Worst case, you get fired." I chuckled coldly but said nothing. She had no idea it was the proposal her daughter had spent an entire month working on. And I was the client who held her daughter’s fate in my hands.

3.5 Stories in one. She hides behind ugly suits and fake names. He's done trusting women. When they meet in a masked sex club, neither realizes they've been fighting each other across boardroom tables for eighteen months. At Taylor Industries, she's Joy Smith—the frumpy CFO who drowns her curves in shapeless polyester and wearing a wig. At home, she's the forgotten wife of a cheating lawyer who hasn't touched her in so long she's starting to wonder if she's broken. When she finds hot pink lace panties stuffed in her couch cushions...definitely not hers, it's not heartbreak she feels. It's freedom. Grayson Taylor doesn't do relationships anymore. Not after walking in on his actress fiancée with another woman. Now he channels everything into hostile takeovers and board meetings, especially the ones where his overcautious CFO fights him on every goddamn acquisition. Joy Smith is brilliant, infuriating, and funny when he pushes all her buttons. But Honey is tired of being invisible. Tired of never having felt real pleasure. So, when her best friend gives her the details of The Velvet Room—Manhattan's most exclusive masked club—she promises herself just one night. One night to find out if her husband's right, if she really is frigid, or if she's just never been touched by the right hands. She doesn't expect the masked stranger who claims her the second she walks in. Doesn't expect the chemistry that ignites between them, the way he makes her body sing, or the orgasms that leave her shaking. Doesn't expect him to hand her an email address with one command: "Only me. No one else touches you."