Crochet Passion Twists Novels & Stories

The Moon Goddess may have written the rules, but these she-wolves are tearing them apart. In this sweeping five-book saga, the Lycanthrope species—creatures of power beyond mortal imagination—dare to defy destiny itself. Mate bonds ignite passion and peril, but every she-wolf knows love can be a weapon as much as a gift. Tradition demands obedience. They choose rebellion. It begins with Ana, a Hybrid caught between worlds, whose collision with Romani, the ruthless Lycan Crown Prince, sparks a bond that could either save her—or destroy her. His dominance threatens to consume her, yet Ana refuses to bow. Every choice she makes twists the Goddess’s plan tighter, until fate itself trembles. From Ana’s defiance to the cunning of wolves who wield mate bonds like blades, each book unveils a battle where freedom clashes with love, rebellion with tradition, and power with vulnerability. The Goddess watches. The wolves fight back. And destiny will bleed before it breaks. This is not a tale of wolves who obey. This is the saga of wolves who refuse to surrender…

Power. Obsession. Pleasure. Pain. Behind every Alpha lies a dangerous hunger—and these men don’t ask for permission. They take what they want. Sinful Alphas is a scorching collection of interconnected dark romance stories featuring dangerously possessive Alphas, forbidden desires, obsessive love, and heroines who find themselves caught between temptation and destruction. From ruthless pack kings and morally gray billionaires to primal mates, secret arrangements, revenge seductions, and enemies who crave each other far too much, every story explores the intoxicating line between dominance and surrender. These aren’t sweet love stories. These are tales of obsession so consuming it burns. Passion so addictive it destroys. Desire so sinful it feels dangerous to crave. Inside this collection, you’ll find: * Possessive Alpha males * Enemies-to-lovers tension * Forced proximity * Forbidden attraction * Mates, secrets, betrayal, and obsession * Explicit spice, emotional chaos, and addictive twists Some loves save you. Others ruin you beautifully. Enter at your own risk.

On my eighteenth birthday, the boy I'd secretly loved for years kissed me first. After a night of passion, I traced the marks on my skin and thought it was all a dream. I was ready to make it official. But the next day, my nude photos were plastered across the entire school. When I confronted him, Damien Ashford laughed with bloodshot eyes: "Blame your mother. If she hadn't turned a blind eye while those girls destroyed Rosalie, Rosalie would never have killed herself." "Now let's see — when her own daughter becomes the school whore, will she still just sit back and watch?" That was the moment I understood. Every tender word from the night before had been a weapon. In the end, my mother slapped me hard across the face and dragged me away. Years later, we met again. He had become the Don — the most powerful man in the underworld. And I was a dealer in his brand-new casino. He offered me up like a chip for other men's amusement, then claimed me himself after the game — the winner taking his prize. I didn't resist. Didn't struggle. Obedient as a puppet. But he froze. His eyes locked onto the stretch mark across my stomach.

When Callum abandoned me, feverish and shivering on a mountain road, just to watch a meteor shower with the young woman he had raised, I decided to divorce him. His good friend, Emmet, advised him to try winning me back. "Look Cal, sisters are sisters, but a wife takes priority. You’d better not mix up what matters most." Callum, however, dismissed the idea with a confident smile. "She’s bluffing. Does she really think she’ll go through with the divorce?" "All these years, I’ve given her a place to belong. Without me, she wouldn’t even have a home. Leave me? She wouldn’t dare.  "Just wait. Before the cooling-off period ends, she’ll come back crying and begging me to take her in."  But thirty days passed, and I never looked back. While he scoured the world searching for me, I sipped tea in a misty mountain villa, utterly at peace. "James," I remarked to my step-brother, "your place truly feels like home."

One night, as I was making my way to the bathroom around 3 a.m., I saw my dormmate, Yvonne, squatting in front of our door. She was rearranging all our shoes so that their tips were pointed inward. I thought it was funny, so I rearranged them to have their tips pointed outward. The next day, I found that all of them had been positioned inward again. This kept happening for a week, and I continued to scramble things up, hiding the shoes, even, or tying the shoelaces together. But they always ended up being repositioned neatly inward. I started observing my dormmate and found her mumbling to the shoes while squatting at the door. I ranted about it online, only to have my first reply send chills down my spine. [Do you also get the weird feeling that something paranormal is happening around you? You have to move out before it’s too late!]

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.

Ever since my husband, Ted Towery, returns from a trip, he seems like a completely different person. He becomes gentle, attentive, and deeply affectionate. But one night, I get up in the middle of the night and see him standing at the kitchen counter. On the cutting board lie his head, his tongue, his eyeballs, and a heart that is still beating. "He" holds a kitchen knife, seeming a little conflicted. "Where should I start fixing?" Suddenly, the tongue on the cutting board lets out a shrill scream, "She sees us!"

My wife, Wendy, faked her death and took her younger sister’s identity, and I pretended not to know. I removed her from the position of general manager at the company and went to the police station to cancel her identity registration. In my past life, Wendy’s younger sister, Stacy, died in a car accident. Wendy chose to live as her, only because she could not bear to let Eric, her sister’s husband, become a widower. I confronted Wendy and demanded to know why she was impersonating her sister, but she refused to admit anything. “I understand that losing Wendy hurts, but you cannot treat me as if I’m her just because she is gone.” After that, Wendy spread rumors everywhere, saying I had lost my mind. She claimed that my wife had just died and I was already harboring improper thoughts toward her younger sister. In a short time, I suffered an unprecedented wave of online harassment. In the end, an overzealous netizen stabbed me to death in an alley. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Wendy was preparing to take her sister’s identity.

My wife cheated on me—with my cousin. The three of us were headed to sign divorce papers when bam—car crash. Next thing I knew, I was back on the day we got our marriage license. This time, no fights, no drama. We both knew it was over. She ditched me for Jason fast and skipped the country with him. I stayed behind, buried in law books and case files. Five years later, she was famous—thanks to Jason pulling strings. Concerts, cash, fans screaming her name. Me? Still grinding at a law firm, backing folks who needed real legal help. Then came the family reunion. She showed up on Jason's arm, smug and shining, throwing shade like it was sport. But when I mentioned I was settling down with someone else? Her face snapped. "I made one dumb mistake! How DARE you move on?!"

There are no grown men in our village. When girls turn 18, they participate in a coming-of-age ceremony in the ancestral hall. Dressed in ceremonial clothes, they line up to enter, and when they come out, their faces show a mix of pain and joy. When my eldest sister turned 18, Grandma forbade her from attending. However, one night, she snuck into the hall. When she came out, she was limping, and blood was dripping between her legs.