D D Novels Novels & Stories

In my last life, the System let my parents swap my SAT scores with my twin's. I was always top of my class—until I magically bombed with a 640. Amelia Everton? Scored a perfect 1520, like she'd earned it. The internet went nuts. Everyone called me a fraud. My parents played innocent on TV, said I'd been cheating for years. Every college ghosted me. Then they kicked me out. I froze to death alone. Not this time. I'm taking it all back—every last thing they stole.

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.

The day Jasper Carter's terminally ill ex, Natalie Klutz, gave birth, his parents—Josephine and Raymond—hired ten bodyguards to keep me, his actual wife, out of the hospital. But I never showed. Josephine clutched Natalie's hand. "She's not getting near you or the baby." Jasper wiped Natalie's forehead. "Relax. Dad's got men at every door. If Emily shows, we'll toss her." Hours passed. Still no me. Jasper finally let himself breathe. He didn't get what my deal was. He was just granting Natalie's dying wish—to be a mom. The second the nurse handed over the crying baby, he smiled like everything was finally worth it. If I came tomorrow and said sorry, he'd forgive me. Hell, he'd even let me raise the kid. What he didn't know? I had just submitted my paperwork. I'd leave the country, join Doctors Without Borders, and ghost him for good.

I came to my father’s funeral in a white dress and a red rose, thinking the worst they’d do was spit on me again. They were celebrating. It wasn’t a funeral. It was Drelia’s coronation party with my father’s corpse in the background. I was ready to leave. Let them have their title, their cameras, their champagne. I’d go back to my law firm and pretend I never had Mende blood. Then the will changed. The family lawyer said two words that shattered everything: “You’re the heiress” Suddenly the bouncers who were dragging me out were bowing to me. Suddenly Drelia and Cade looked like they’d been gutted. Suddenly I had a title, a target on my back, and 30 days before the Council declared me Luna or declared me dead. The pack hates me. My family wants me gone. And the only way to keep my head is to play a game I never wanted to play: politics, blood, and maybe a marriage to the one man who has every reason to watch me burn.

Excerpt: "I don't wish to be indebted to you in the near future, hence I'd like to repay you for saving me." The man's intense gaze fixed on Rina, his brows now drawn together in contemplation. "You don't owe me anything," he repeated, "but if you're truly set on repaying my kindness then, marry me." After being betrayed by her husband of seven years, and her best friend, Rina Powers is left with nothing. However, she decided to make a stunning comeback in the entertainment industry. She'd avenge all those responsible for her past misfortunes, and the family she sacrificed her past glory for. Then, she'd take back all that naturally belonged to her on her way back to the top. Many thought, "An ostracized former A-list actress? What can she possibly do?" but no one knew she was now the wife to the god of the Entertainment industry, and she had his backing. "Do whatever you want, wife, I solely support you."

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.

Seven years into our marriage, my husband Theo ordered me an Americano, the way he always did. Except I'd just told him, again, that caffeine made me sick. The moment I opened my mouth to say something, his phone rang. He stood up and walked out without a word of explanation. Half an hour later, Lydia posted to her socials. "Thanks to a certain someone for taking time out of his insane schedule to fix my plumbing. Also, the fresh hot cocoa was incredible." The comments filled up with people gushing over her. Steam curled off the mug in the photo. It made the drink in my hand feel even colder. Lydia and Theo had grown up together. Seven years ago, within months of each other, they'd both rushed into marriage. The difference was that Lydia had married a man who hit her. Night after night, Theo would peel himself away from me and run off to defend her. Sometimes he'd fought with her husband and end up at the police station. It happened more than once. I used to think it was just his sense of justice, so I always cleaned up after him and smoothed things over. Now I could see it for what it was. He'd given so much of his attention to someone else that all I got were the leftovers, neglect and a cold shoulder. Fine. This love had already gone cold. I didn't want it anymore.

Ryleigh didn’t remember being taken—only the cold bite of night and the blur of snarling shadows. Now she was locked in a cell beneath an unfamiliar pack house, her wrists sore, her memories foggy, and her heart pounding with questions. Her parents were dead, she’d just learned she was adopted, and now this—kidnapped by creatures that shouldn’t exist. Werewolves. Real ones. And someone with the initial D had left her a single note: You’re safe. Trust me. – D But safety felt like a lie. Especially after she witnessed a man shift before her eyes. Especially when the Alpha of the pack, Damien—arrogant, powerful, and dangerously charming—claimed ownership of her fate. Her only comfort came from Dr. Derek Blackthorn, the Alpha’s estranged brother, a healer with kind eyes and secrets of his own. In a house ruled by strict laws, bloodlines, and bitter alliances, Ryleigh must survive a world she was never meant to know. One where love could be her only weapon—or her greatest downfall.

Ivana Blake never imagined that marrying into one of the wealthiest families in New York would feel like a sentence instead of salvation. Her new husband, Ethan D’Amelio, is charming in public but distant behind closed doors, quickly swept away by his corporate empire. Left alone in the cavernous D’Amelio estate, Ivana finds herself watched, haunted—not by ghosts, but by a man far more dangerous: Christopher D’Amelio. Her husband’s stepfather. Cold. Ruthless. Beautiful in a way that burns. He is the man no one dares challenge. The man she should avoid at all costs. But when glances turn into confessions, and silence turns into touches, Ivana begins to unravel a dangerous obsession neither of them can resist. What begins as curiosity turns into a tangled web of passion, betrayal, and secrets that threaten to destroy them both. As the walls close in and her marriage crumbles, Ivana must choose between the safety of a lie—or the fire of a love that should never exist. This is not a love story. It’s a descent into desire, power, and the darkest corners of the human heart.

I'd upset my fiancé again, the men I'd grown up beside. All because I wanted to borrow thirty million from him to buy back a ruby brooch. Adrian was heir to the Vampire Prince. To him, the money was nothing. But in front of every servant in the house, his face went cold. "Elena. Don't be greedy." Disdain filled his eyes. "Yes, your mother died saving me fifteen years ago, yet I agreed to marry you." "You're only human. Don't presume on that." My throat closed. I'd been about to explain that the brooch was the only thing I had left of my mother. But Adrian had already looked away, impatient. "Whatever it is, it can wait until I'm back. Stop making a scene." I ran my thumb over the few thin bills in my pocket and lowered my head. A whole year of quiet work for the manor's servants, and that was all I'd saved. I was still wiping my eyes when I got back to my room, and my father called again. "Elena, have you decided? This is for your own good. No matter how long you wait, young Master Adrian will never marry you." "Why don’t you take your stepsister's place. Marry into the North instead. You'll have an easier life." This time, I didn't argue. "Fine. I'll do it." "But I want thirty million in return."