Novel & Cerita Dead Reckoning Novel

In the third year after my death, my mother finally remembered me. But it wasn't out of longing—it was because my younger sister's leukemia had relapsed, and she urgently needed a bone marrow transplant. Clutching a donation agreement, my mother made her way to the basement I once lived in. She kicked open the door and was met with a floor slick with blood and scattered medicine bottles. "Cassidy, what game are you playing this time? Do you really think a self-inflicted act of suffering could fool me? Why are you so selfish? Why won't you save your own sister?" Her voice roared with anger, echoing through the space. From the crowd that had gathered to watch, a ragged little boy stepped forward. "Are you talking about Cassidy Porter? She… she died three years ago of organ failure… she vomited so much blood…"

There are monsters in this world. And they used to be us. Now it's time to euthanize to survive in a hospice where Emily, a woman haunted by her past, only wants to do her job and be the best mother possible. Post-infection Chicago. Christmas. Inside The Hospice, Emily and her fellow nurses do their rounds. Here, men and women live out their final days in comfort, segregated from society, and are then humanely terminated before fate turns them into marrow-craving monsters known as ‘Smilers.’ Outside these imposing walls, rabid protesters swarm with signs, caught up in the heat of their hatred. Emily, a woman haunted by her past, only wants to do her job and be the best mother possible. But in a world where mortality means nothing, where guns are drawn in fear and nobody seems safe anymore – at what cost will this pursuit come? And through it all, the soon to be dead remain silent, ever smiling. Such is their curse. It won't be long before that snow-speckled ground will be salted by blood. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

The day we were meant to be mated, my Alpha, Ford, was ambushed. Silver bullets shredded his car, sending it plunging off a bridge and into the river below. He was pronounced dead. Drowned. I was left pregnant with his heir, shattered by the raw agony of our severed mate bond. Then Ford's twin, Aiden, returned from abroad with his mate, Kyra. His identical face and a scent so similar to my mate's nearly drove me mad. A desperate part of me swore Ford was still alive. I told myself it was just grief. A widow's delusion. Until I overheard a hushed conversation and the horrifying truth slammed into me: the man pretending to be Aiden was Ford. He had faked his death. He'd let his own brother die in his place, all for Kyra—the other woman carrying his child. The grief that had crippled me instantly morphed into a cold, sharp rage. Ford didn't just break our bond; he shattered it. And I would make him pay. I wiped my tears and sent a single message to my brother, Billy, the Alpha of the Winterstone Pack. "Brother, I need a plane crash. He loves faking his death? Fine. Let him feel what it's like to truly lose a mate." Only when the news of my "death" spread did Ford reclaim his name. He knelt for seven days and nights in the ashes of the home we once shared, consumed by a grief of his own making.

“Are you going to treat me like the enemy?” Raffaele asked, hovering over me like a predator. “You are the enemy,” I sneered. He smiled. “Careful. You’re hurting my feelings.” “I hope I can hurt much more than that.” His eyes darkened. “You forget—I’m the one who can break you.” I vowed never to give my heart to a man. Never let one bend me. Never let one own me. Then a single night changed everything. When my best friend became a target, I took her place and caught the attention of the most dangerous man in the city. Raffaele, My friend's older brother, wasn’t supposed to see me. We were never meant to meet but the moment his eyes locked on mine, I became his new obsession. I don’t bend and he doesn't let go. Suddenly caught up in a world of blood and power, resisting a man like Raffaele might cost me everything...heart, body, and soul. He wants me, dead or alive.

After I fell while pregnant, my six-year-old son, Nico Bertelli, did not come to help me. When I woke up, the baby in my belly was gone. At my hospital bedside, Nico hid behind my husband, Roberto Bertelli, and mumbled, "Mommy, I thought you fainted on purpose to get my attention. You've pretended to pass out a few times before just to stop me from going out with Ms. Pelosi." Roberto chimed in coldly, "You're always pulling tricks to get attention. Nico doesn't even trust you anymore. You need to take a hard look at yourself and figure out why he prefers being around Martina Pelosi over you." I was completely heartbroken. The day after I was discharged, I went home, packed up everything that belonged to me, and left behind only two documents: a divorce agreement and a letter terminating my parental rights.

As Jastrelle's golden girl, I draw lots to pick my groom, and fate finally hands me Felix Ledger, the childhood sweetheart I've wanted forever. During the impromptu wedding, a funeral convoy belonging to a scion of a rich family in Jastrelle passes right outside. I hate the omen. Felix laughs, pulls me into his arms, and places the veil over my head himself. "I'll take it as a good omen. With you, I'm covered from first breath to last," he says. His adoptive sister, Winnie Ledger, hears him, bursts into tears, and bolts outside. The funeral convoy runs her down, and she dies. Felix barely reacts. Three years later, Dad is framed, driven into bankruptcy, and falls gravely ill. He dies, and I lose everything. At the funeral, Felix sends everyone off, shoves me into the open grave, and buries me alive. He spits, "You rigged everything to get me. You left Winnie ruined. She bolted outside, and that funeral convoy ran her down. For three years, remorse has eaten me alive. I want you torn apart! "With your last protector gone, I can finally make you suffer a hundredfold the pain Winnie felt and ease my hatred!" When I open my eyes, I'm back at the groom-selection ceremony. Dad smiles as he hands me the lots. I shake my head, look out the window, and point at the funeral convoy passing outside. "I'm not choosing anyone. I'll marry that dead man!"

On our tenth wedding anniversary, I was trapped in a cabin with my daughter, Sofia Costello, as floodwaters raged outside. With shaking hands, I used the emergency satellite phone to call my mafia husband, Henson Costello, and begged for help. I dialed more than 90 times before the call finally went through, yet all I heard was the breathy moans of his first love, Angelina Rossi, on the other end. "Henson...slower..." Before I could even process the shock of his betrayal, I heard a conversation that sent me straight into hell. "That kid was dead weight anyway. Trading him for control of Pier 9 was the best deal the family ever made." It seemed that Leo Costello, my son, who had supposedly drowned at the beach five years ago, had not died in an accident after all. Henson had used him as part of a business deal. All this time, I had been drowning in guilt for taking him to that beach, blaming myself for the tragedy. I never knew the truth was this cruel. Tears streamed down my face as my body shook uncontrollably. After ten years of marriage, I finally realized I had never truly known the man I loved and sacrificed everything for. I picked up my phone again and dialed Vincenzo Moretti's number. "Vince, I'll marry you. But you have to help me destroy the Costello family from power." After a brief silence, his voice came through the line. "Aurelia Astor, I've been waiting ten years to hear you say that."

Amy is a musician whose music got distorted and warped due to a tragedy and guilt building up inside of her. Yet in the midst of her sadness appeared the brooding Antonio Russo; a sexy Italian man with a secret. During the whirlwind romance with the man she deemed her first love, Amy was swept her off her feet, until it all came to a screeching halt in the form of striking blue eyes. Dimitri Baranov has come to claim what was promised to him so long ago - but will Amy give in to temptation or follow old customs? In this brand new Bratva/Italian Mafia dark romance, you will find out that love can come from the worst places and blossom into something beautiful. *Book 2 of The Mafia Trinity Series of Novels.*

BLURB They called her daughter “defective.” They called her “human trash.” Garett Blackthorn abandoned her in an ICU while their child died. Then he signed divorce papers and married a crown. Cyhilenia died begging for her daughter’s life. She woke up wearing the face of Summer Varye, an abdicated heiress, Logan Dorne’s contract wife. Logan bought Summer for 20 million and a blood oath. Death doesn’t void it. Now his “wife” has blue eyes, steel-cutting claws, and a dead daughter’s locket around her neck. He thinks he claimed to be a runaway heiress. He doesn’t know he claimed a grieving mother with nothing left to lose. Cyhilenia will play Summer. She’ll wear the crown Garett threw away. And when she’s done, the Supreme Alpha who called her trash will beg on his knees. Because blood doesn’t void. And neither does a mother’s promise. He owns her contract. She owns his downfall.

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.