Novel & Cerita D'amour Library

THEIR FORBIDDEN LOVE MAY GET THEM BOTH KILLED... (Excerpt) He pressed his arousal against her soft body. You know how much I desire to have you, Diana. Tell me you want me, too.” Shaking her head, her eyes misted. He growled at her stubbornness. Then he nuzzled his cheek against hers, enjoying the delicate ivory fragrance she'd washed with, hoping she’d succumb to his advances. He ran his finger over her firm nipple. “I won't let Ragnar have you. We’ll return to the pack and then—” “No. He’ll kill you. I don’t want you for a mate. Don't you understand?” She tried to pull away from him, her voice heated with anger. “I don’t want you.” But he recognized from her words and actions that it wasn't true; he’d use every trick he knew to convince her to tell the truth.

Debt. Betrayal. Auction. Isabella Sterling, a master manipulator in disguise, was sold to Dante Belucci, the notorious and feared Mafia boss. His prize. His captive bride. They thought she was broken. They were wrong. She would use him, his power, his world, to destroy those who betrayed her. By the time he realized her dangerous game, he'd fallen too deep. He'd learn that the woman he owned was far more dangerous than he ever imagined. When Dante looked at her, his heart broken, he asked, "Did you ever love me, Isabella?”

After eight years together, I took a hit for my surgeon boyfriend. Milton Woodard vowed I could ask for anything. Everyone assumed I'd seize the chance to propose, locking him down for good. Instead, I looked him in the eye and said, "Let's break up." Then I walked away without a backward glance. Milton smirked, betting with his buddies that I'd come crawling back in under three days, calling me a desperate lapdog chasing his attention. He was dead wrong because I'd been reborn. In my last life, I proposed to him and won. Overwhelmed by the news, his first love threw herself off a rooftop and killed herself. Milton unleashed his grief-fueled rage on me. On our wedding night, he slashed my face and locked me in a dank, claustrophobic basement. When I got pregnant, he force-fed me supplements until the baby grew too big for me to deliver. I hemorrhaged, torn apart, and died in agony on the birthing table. Now, reborn on the day I saved his life, I was done playing his fool.

She’d escaped me once. She’d not do it again. I am the brother of the Alpha of the Asara Pack. I did everything she asked of me. She was a queen up on her throne. I was her Captain of the Guard. Her secret assassin killing anyone who'd threaten her. I had declared my intent to claim her as my mate. And she had fled. Like the coward she is. Still she went ahead and seduced me, bidding me do whatever vile thing she commanded. Now she claims to rule this kingdom. However, her people are starving and her new fiancé is to blame. But will she hear a word of it? Of course not! Well, I've found a way to make her listen. To no longer allow her to deny what she really is. To rip her from her sanctuary amongst the humans. It's high time she learn a she-wolf’s place in this realm. She needs a real king, and it won't be that sniveling lord with designs on her. It's going to be me. She’ll learn I'm no longer hers to command. She is mine.

I was a famed assassin. She knew my name. Everyone did. Feral. Death's very own hound. But she was the one that'd left our hut in the dead of night. And I wasn't one to forget something like that. I'd gone looking for her when she left things the way she did. She was nowhere to be found then. Yet here she is now. Standing in my tavern. With her cloak in a pile around her ankles and offering me her body in plain view of every rogue in here. Bold move. But she was nothing if not that. She thought I'd give in and said yes to this venture to rescue someone she loved because of some misplaced honor. Not in the least! I said yes because I intend to wreak vengeance on her, for what she did to me. Every chance I get, I'm going to make her miserable. And I'm going to take great pleasure in doing so. Welcome to my world Warrioress. Where the price of vengeance comes much higher than a bit o' coin.

Violet's world was shattered when she emerged from prison after three long years, only to discover her husband Loenard had moved on with his life. He'd married his childhood best friend Francess, and the ultimate betrayal - they'd claimed violet's own son as their own. The pain and anger ignited a fire within violet, fueling her desire for revenge. But fate had other plans. She was kidnapped by a mysterious figure from her past, hell-bent on taking down Loenard and his family. It seems like the universe was smiling ok Violet until things began to get complicated.

After our eighty-eighth canceled wedding, I called my business partner. "I'm taking the Haviana market project." There was a beat of stunned silence. "Seriously? That's ten years overseas. You just got married—well, weren't you? Does your husband even know? What about your parents? You always said staying close to them was everything." I glanced around the empty church and let out a sharp laugh. "There was no wedding. No husband. And my parents? They've got Cindy. That's all they need." Another pause. "Alright. Pack your bags. You leave tomorrow." After the call, I ran a hand down my wedding dress. One last tear slipped out, quiet and pointless. Cindy had another "episode" today. Claimed she'd off herself. Andrew canceled—again. I'd looked at him, drained. "It's the eighty-eighth time." He dropped his head, guilt all over him. "Just a little more time, Viv. She's been off since the accident. I'm scared she'll actually do it. I swear, I'll talk to her. For real this time. Then we'll get married. Promise." My parents didn't hesitate. "Vivian, let Andrew go. If Cindy hadn't gotten kidnapped trying to save you, she wouldn't have these breakdowns. Are you really putting a wedding over your sister's life?" "How could you be so selfish?" I'd heard it all before. Used to fight it. Not this time. If neither my fiancé nor my parents wanted me around, then fine. I'd leave.

In order to take care of my wife, Mildred Dale, who kept going into lunatic episodes thanks to the side effects of a car crash, I spent all of my assets and ten years of my life taking care of her. Whenever Mildred went into an episode, she'd hurl everything she could get her hands on at me. At the same time, she'd scratch every inch of my body with her nails. But when she sobered up, she'd hug me while wailing at the top of her lungs. All of my friends advised me to file for a divorce, yet I'd always remember the fact that Mildred had pushed me from the incoming car and hit her head, resulting in her current condition. But everything changed when Mildred beat me up to the point that I sustained grievous injuries. Heck, my soul was already floating near the ceiling at that time. That was when I saw Mildred arranging her childhood friend Hank Weaver's collar carefully. "Why are you crying? He's already dead. Shouldn't we celebrate this occasion instead? "But my heart breaks for you, Mildred. You've pretended to be a lunatic for ten whole years just to swindle every cent out of his account!" Mildred kissed Hank on the lips. Then, she uttered icily, "I've been enduring that cowardly fool for ten long years. Now, I no longer have to be with him." It turns out that Mildred and Hank had painstakingly staged the car accident just so they could put on such a perfect act. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Mildred is diagnosed with mental health issues.

My boyfriend, Tom, promised a grand mating ceremony for my twentieth birthday. But at my banquet, he publicly requested a mate link with my stepsister, Lily. While the whole pack roared and cheered, I just stood there like a fool. The betrayal hit hard. Before I could even breathe, Sam—the Obsidian Pack's Alpha heir—said he'd secretly loved me all along and asked to claim me. I said yes. For five years, he spoiled me. Memorized my favorite runs, my wolf's quirks. Then I overheard him with his Beta: "Sam, Lily's Luna of White Rose Pack now, just like she wanted. You still gonna fake it with Any?" "I can't have Lily. Doesn't even matter who my mate is anymore. As long as I'm with Any, Lily's safe and happy." Later that night, I found his safe in the study. Inside? Every single thing she ever gave him. Handmade wolf fang pendants. Letters sealed with her paw print. His prized chest armor, every single scale etched with her name: [Lily, my dearest love. I'd shred through every thorn for your smile.] [Lily, rip out my wolf heart if you needed it. ] [Lily! Hell, I'd steal the whole damn world if you asked.] Five years. Five years of lies, shattered in seconds. I filed my request to leave the pack. In two days, I'd be out of Sam's life for good.

My name is Clara Kelly. I was born in Brooklyn, into an Irish-American cop’s family. My father spent his whole career walking a beat out of the 84th Precinct. My mother volunteered at the parish. I was the first girl on our block to get into Columbia Law. The year I graduated, I was volunteering at a charity gala. I picked up the wrong glass of wine and ended up dumping it down the front of a man’s Brioni suit. That man was Adrian Francesco Moretti. Fourth-generation Don of the Moretti Family of New York, and one of the five families of Cosa Nostra. He chased me for four years. I said no six times. The seventh time, he stood outside my law firm in the rain until three-fifteen in the morning. I married him. Two decades in, he’d handed me the keys to the entire Moretti Family. In our world they called me “the Irish Donna,” a woman with no Italian blood who somehow held the seat. Childless by choice, the two of us. Famously in love. Until that Wednesday afternoon, when my college roommate of twenty years, my best friend Vivian Sinclair, walked into my living room with a five-year-old boy. She said the boy was Adrian’s son. She said that five years ago, she’d taken a used condom out of the wastebasket in my upstairs master bedroom, kept it frozen for three years, and done IVF. She said she was the real mother of the Moretti heir. She was the real Donna Moretti. “Be smart. Pack your bags and walk out. You might even get to keep your life.” “You’re barren. The Moretti Family doesn’t need you.” I looked at the woman I’d called my best friend for half my adult life. I didn’t say a word. She thought she was holding the winning card. What she didn’t know was that she’d just stepped onto a board Adrian and I had been laying for twenty years. I needed exactly one sentence to shatter every piece of the Donna fantasy she’d spent five years building.