Death Angel Alice

This is no ordinary werewolf tale. Romance and fantasy collide with a curse spun from prophecy and obsession. This is a story of torment and resilience. Of wolves and gods. Of a woman broken again and again, only to rise stronger each time. And at the heart of it all… is a love fated by the Moon. If you’re the kind of reader who thrives on slow-burning tension, this tale will consume you. But tread carefully: the deeper you go, the darker it gets. -------------- Alinta Ull, a bookish, headstrong, and haunted werewolf. Since her eighteenth birthday, tragedy has stalked her in a cruel pattern. Every three years, it brings death, rejection, or abandonment. She believes the Moon has cursed her, and… maybe it has. Desperate to escape her fate, she and her fierce wolf, Angela, travel to the rumoured resting place of the Rogue Deity, a mythical werewolf prophesied to rise beneath the eighth crimson moon. Coincidentally, on Alinta’s thirtieth birthday. But fate is a cruel thing. Something, or someone is watching. A wolf obsessed. A monster in disguise. One who has waited years to possess her, and now has no intention of letting go. In a world where devotion becomes delusion, and love becomes a weapon, one truth remains: Some mates are chosen by the Moon. Others are stolen by monsters. -------------- Content Warning: This novel contains dark and mature themes, including sexual assault, emotional and psychological abuse, trauma, captivity, and manipulation. While it ultimately becomes a tale of hope, rebirth, and true love, the road is long, raw, and often tragic. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

"Ms. Rowe, are you certain you want to delete all identity records? Once they're erased, you'll be completely removed from the system. No one will be able to find you again." Eva Rowe pauses for a moment before nodding with quiet resolve. "Yes. I want to disappear from this world. I want to make sure no one can ever find me." Two seconds of silence follow on the other end, as if they're giving her one last chance to reconsider. "Understood, Ms. Rowe. The wipeout protocol will be completed within 14 days. By then, you'll be officially 'dead' in all databases. Please make the necessary arrangements." With that, the call ends. Eva books a one-way ticket to Felnor, scheduled for 14 days later. Then, she turns off her phone, watching as the screen goes dark. She stands by the floor-to-ceiling window, staring out at the endless city lights, and lets out a soft, cold laugh. She is no longer anyone's Eva.

After recovering from breast cancer, my fiancé started making excuses to stay out all night. On my birthday, I finally tracked him down on a yacht where he was joking with his friends. "I figured once she died, the engagement would be off the table. Who knew she'd be so hard to die.” "But I've got a brilliant plan—I'll fake my death at the wedding. We can livestream it and watch how this woman who worships me to the core breaks down in tears." I couldn't help but smile to myself. If Travis Luther could play dead, so could I. In the end, he was the one who broke down sobbing, begging me not to walk away.

This book is authored by Dripping Creativity. “Stay away, stay away from me, stay away,” she shouted, over and over. She kept shouting even though it seemed she had run out of things to throw. Zane was more than a little interested in knowing exactly what was going on. But he couldn’t focus with the woman making a ruckus. “Will you shut the fuck up!” he roared at her. She fell silent and he saw tears start to fill her eyes, her lips trembled. Oh fuck, he thought. Like most men, a crying woman scared him shitless. He would rather have a gunfight with a hundred of his worst enemies than have to deal with one crying woman. “And your name is?” he asked. “Ava,” she told him in a thin voice. “Ava Cobler?” he wanted to know. Her name had never sounded so beautiful before, it surprised her. She almost forgot to nod. “My name is Zane Velky,” he introduced himself, holding out a hand. Ava’s eyes grew bigger as he heard the name. Oh no, not that, anything but that, she thought. “You have heard of me,” he smiled, he sounded satisfied. Ava nodded. Everyone who lived in the city knew the name Velky, it was the largest mafia group in the state with its centre in the city. And Zane Velky was the head of the family, the don, the big boss, the huge honcho, the Al Capone of the modern world. Ava felt her panicked brain spin out of control. Trigger warnings: Talk about SA Body image issues Light BDSM Descriptive descriptions of assaults Self harm Harsh language

"The 10th circle of hell was actually the earth, and being alive is the real tormention." Naenia Lovercraft is a ghostwriter who's in a dire need of money, but because she's an epitome of a mad woman, every potential client tries to run for their lives away from her. Well except for this skull-mask wearing guy who introduced himself as Lord Serenade. He was indeed interested in making her write his gory fantasies and buy her works. However, it comes with certain conditions and it should include Neania herself. To live with him. In an old mansion. In the middle of nowhere. Thus, with mysteries to unveil and countless crimes relating to violence, one must connect the dots for everything before the cops arrest the wrong culprit. But in a world full of temptations and sins, who could really stay true to righteousness and prove that there's really a wrong culprit?

In order to protect my father, I was tortured for ten hours, but my father was busy celebrating his adopted daughter’s eighteenth birthday. With my dying breath, I called my father and said, “Dad, it’s my birthday today. Could you wish me a happy birthday?” “You crazy monster! You got your mother killed in order to celebrate your birthday! How could you still ask me to celebrate your birthday? You should just die!” With that said, he hung up. The next day, my corpse was placed in different flower pots and put in front of a police station. My father was in charge of inspecting my corpse, and he could immediately tell that the murderer did this for revenge. What they did to me was cruel and made a mockery of the police’s authority. But he did not manage to tell that the deceased was the daughter he hated.

"Why are you acting all mean and rude? I'm just trying to be nice here" he snapped making me stop and turned to glare at him. "I never told you to be nice! Why don't you go back to your little world and forget that I exist like you used to do?" I sneered. "Why the sudden interest!" I yelled in frustration and walked away from him. The bad Boy was simply infuriating. I was stopped. I flew in his chest as he gripped on my wrist and pulled me to him. My back was pressed against his chest and I could feel him breathing next to my ear. "Once I aim for someone, I always get her" he whispered huskily.

My husband, who was a drug enforcement police officer, personally got me into rehab. My son was cheering on the side, saying that he no longer had to see me under the influence for a long time. After I was discharged, I discovered my husband moved in with his lover and our son. I begged him to come back and told him that someone would kill me. He did not believe me. Instead, he said coldly, “If you die, you better end up in a trash can. Otherwise, I’d have to deal with your body.” My son cheered at the side. “Mommy is finally gone!” After a week, I was dismembered. My body parts were found in multiple trash cans. He was the police in charge of the case.

🆃🅷🅴🆁🅴 🅸🆂 🆁🅴🅰🅻🅻🆈 🅰 🅲🅷🅰🅽🅲🅴 🅸🅽 🆃🅷🅸🆂 🅻🅸🅵🅴🆃🅸🅼🅴 🆃🅾 🅼🅴🅴🆃 🅰 🅱🅰🅳 🅱🅾🆈. 🆆🅴 🅳🅾🅽'🆃 🆆🅰🅽🆃 🆃🅷🅴🅼, 🅱🆄🆃 🆆🅷🅰🆃 🅸🅵 🆈🅾🆄🆁 🆂🆃🆄🅿🅸🅳 🅷🅴🅰🆁🆃 🆆🅰🅽🆃🆂 🅷🅸🅼? 🆆🅷🆈 🅳🅾 🆆🅾🅼🅴🅽 🅿🆁🅴🅵🅴🆁 🅱🅰🅳 🅱🅾🆈🆂 🆃🅷🅰🅽 🆂🅰🅽🅴 🅶🆄🆈🆂 🅰🅽🆈🆆🅰🆈? 🆆🅷🅰🆃🅴🆅🅴🆁, 🅻🅴🆃 🅼🅴 🆂🆃🅰🆁🆃 🅴🅻🅰🅱🅾🆁🅰🆃🅸🅽🅶, 🅰🅽🅳 🅻🅴🆃'🆂 🅵🅸🅽🅳 🅾🆄🆃 🅰🆃 🆃🅷🅴 🅴🅽🅳 🆆🅷🆈 ... Justine Villafranca is the infamous son of a General, (who made a pact with his bestfriend to marry their children) . His son has no interest in business, it only causes headaches and trouble. So he came up with a good idea, this is probably the right time to teach him a lesson, he won't bequeath an inheritance to him if he doesn't marry Angela Dela Vega. What would happen if an angel and a demon lived together in the same place? Will these two different people get along well? Will it snow in hell or will the sky burn with heat ... ©All Rights Reserved

Seraphine Hale, a genius musician, announces her return to the country. When a reporter asks whether she's back for her first love, she smiles icily. "Are you talking about that trash? It wouldn't be any of my business even if he were to drop dead tomorrow." What she doesn't know is that I've already been dead for close to a decade.