Deena Johnson Fear Street Novels & Stories

Jeremy Hansen throws a divorce agreement at Joanna Thompson on the day she finds out she's pregnant with twins. He also gives her 300 million dollars as their breakup fee. Why? Because his true love is back in the country! Joanna doesn't kick a fuss or throw a tantrum. She takes the money and moves out of their marital home without argument. She doesn't expect Jeremy to be so cruel, though—he wants her to abort the children. Why should she listen to him? "You're not going to abort them, huh?" Jeremy sneers. "Do you think we won't have to go through with the divorce if you're still pregnant with my children?" Joanna sneers back at him. A few days later, she accidentally miscarries. After being discharged from the hospital, she and Jeremy finalize the divorce. Three years later, the paparazzi capture Joanna on a street abroad while holding onto a pair of adorable boy-girl twins. Jeremy stares at the photo as his eyes slowly redden. Then, he flies abroad at top speed to stand in Joanna and the twins' way. "You've played me for three years, Joanna! It's high time that you stop with this tantrum." She takes off her sunglasses and raises a nonchalant eyebrow. "Sorry, but who are you?"

Jack Goldsmith wants a mate. He is sick of being alone. Jack is the only wild wolf in the United Kingdom - Werewolf or otherwise. According to his father, he was an aberration, his mother died giving birth to him and his father had never forgiven him. Superstition was rife in the 1600s when he was born and he grew rapidly, not like the other children. Rumours spread of witchcraft, and though his father was caught, Jack escaped to live his life alone - until now. SaffronTalbot has inherited her grandmother's cottage in the wilds of the Yorkshire countryside. As an empath, Saffron Talbot is looking for a new life - and she is going to get it, but it's not the life she ever imagined. She's a nature-loving girl and the pressures of the city of London make her feel ill. The number of people, the buildings so close together, and the noises make her feel increasingly ill. If she dares go out, her headphones are clamped to her head and the darkest sun-glasses she can find cover her eyes. Her neighbours think she is the local weirdo when they see her marching along the street with her head down to avoid making contact. Moving to Yorkshire to the cottage her grandmother has left her will be the beginning of her life - in more ways than one.

Everyone in the social circle of Kingsford said I was nothing more than a lapdog raised by Charles Mankin. I was always at his beck and call. I did every filthy, ludicrous thing for him under the sun. When he street raced, I rode shotgun. When he drank himself senseless, I made him hangover soup. When he chased girls, I prepared protection for them. Over time, everyone knew: Charles had a dog who never ran, never bit back, no matter how hard he kicked. They all said I must be madly in love with him. Even Charles started to believe it. So he pushed further, more freely, more cruelly, crossing lines as if they never existed. Then came my twenty-fifth birthday. He, in a rare stroke of mercy, said he'd celebrate it with me. But instead, what he got was the news that I was leaving the country. He went berserk, charging through the airport like a man possessed. I peeled his fingers off my wrist one by one, smiling like I'd never been happier. "Don't be stupid," I told him, still smiling. "That was never love." That night, Charles smashed apart his family home like a rabid dog.

Lucas and Alex were born differently, but Lucas lived with a secret, more specific and intriguing. Betrayed twice by James, Alex became broken, cold, and depressed. He decided to end it all, but Lucas stepped in with kind words and pulled him out from his darkest edge, and left him with a good luck charm. Alex swore off love and locked his heart away. He became a man with one motive...rejection of love proposals. Any gender that crossed his path was used and dumped. His only desire was to meet his lucky charm guy (Lucas) again. Two years later, they met, and his love bloomed. As the feelings grew, so did Alex’s fear and, with it, his anger. How could he love again when the past still haunted him? Out of jealousy, his love for Lucas suddenly turned to hatred. Why did he hate the one person who made him feel alive again? Can Alex overcome his fear of betrayal, or will he destroy the very love that could heal him completely? What secret did Lucas live with? Could they navigate it and bond again, or would they fall apart? ***MM Romance***

My heart raced wildly as he leaned in, his warm breath brushing my ear. "The next time I see you kiss anyone else..." he whispered, his voice dark and lethal, " I'll make sure these pretty lips of yours are stitched shut." He wasn't supposed to care. I wasn't supposed to matter. But one kiss was all it took to turn control into obsession. I'm bound to him by a dangerous deal, living on the edge of fear and desire, never quite sure where the line is, or if it ever existed at all. Mr. Hanson is cold, powerful, and terrifyingly possessive. He thrives on control, and he hates how I slip through his fingers no matter how tightly he grips me. Every touch feels like a warning. Every breath between us feels like a threat. As fear, power, and longing blur into something I no longer recognize, I'm forced to decide how far I'm willing to go to survive a man who doesn't just want my obedience. He wants my silence. My loyalty. My heart. Because with him, love isn't gentle. It's a weapon.

"Let's get a divorce." Renna had said to her treacherous husband, Hayes Campbell, walking in on him with not one of his numerous mistresses that she knew of, but her sister, this time. Renna thought divorcing him would be the end of her misery but what about her father? The vicious man who she grew up to him finding fault in everything she did, she was his prodigal daughter while Nadia, her sister, was his favorite, despite how frequently she strayed. He disowned her right after the divorce and pushed her into the street. Divorced, disowned, and critically ill, Renna passed out on the street of New York. Renna thought she was dead until she opened her eyes in a hospital, and her ex-husband's uncle beside her. "Marry me." He'd said to her so naturally. "What?" "I will offer you a life every single lady on earth will be jealous of, kitten, the world will be at your feet, including your ex-husband, all you have to do is say yes." His name is Landon; Hayes's uncle and biggest threat. No one knew the mystery behind his hatred for Hayes, but he was known for taking everything Hayes ever wanted or has, and now, he's come for her, but not just as a game.

"Just join me for a drink perhaps?" Her bushy brows rose suggestively at me. She knew my answer, she knew what I'd say. I grabbed the bottle off her scrawny hands and said "You know, for a one time thing, this has become a regular." To be honest, I was actually looking forward to meeting up with her. Not that I was going to admit it to her face. "Like therapy sessions from two dumb, ill-favored kids. Who are trying to give each other easing words." She was right. Though her stumbled movements indicated a slight intoxication. Suddenly, out of the awkward moment, she looked up at me with a sad smile and said. "I might be a street girl but is it too bad to wish for a normal life? Go to proms? Have new clothes? Shelter? Love? Do I not deserve?" Her teary eyes searched deep into my soul. I was unaware of the lack of distance between us. When did we get so close with barely an inch barrier? "Flare..." that was all I could say because then all I could feel were soft lips against mine. Her lips! And it felt so nice. Subconsciously, I grabbed her little body and went for another kiss, this time, a deeper kiss.

I was the most notorious terror child in the entire neighborhood. Every day, I threw a tantrum and claimed a parking spot as my own. I refused to let anyone else park there. The other residents had no choice but to leave their cars on the street, where they received expensive parking tickets. I held a neighbor’s seven-year-old pet duck under water until it drowned. The duck had been worth a thousand dollars. I did it simply because I wanted to taste duck meat. In the elevator, I would cancel everyone else’s floors for fun. One day, the elevator broke down. A neighbor was trapped inside so long that they nearly suffocated. My parents were at their wits’ end. More than once, they beat me in public over my actions. They even broke down in front of everyone and cursed me. “How did I end up with such a rotten child?” “Why don’t you just die?” I thought. “But Mom, Dad, weren’t these the very things you taught me?” I lowered my head, heartbroken. “Kid, are your parents bad to you? Why don’t I find you a new mom and dad?” a tempting voice asked. I looked up at the scarred man standing in front of me. Hope flickered across my face. I nodded.

Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now—billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn’t mind. I’d crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That’s when it hit me—he didn’t love me. He didn’t even see me. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I’d ever made. Because my one-night stand isn’t just some random guy. He’s richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he’s not letting me go.

I had been married for five years, but my belly remained flat—no sign of a child. Then, on my 35th birthday, I suddenly found out I was pregnant. When I shared the good news with my husband, he flew into a rage. Instead of being happy, he accused me of carrying someone else's baby. Only then did I learn he had a mistress. He even claimed he wanted a "real" child—one that truly belonged to him—with her. I thought he was just being irrational and would eventually come to his senses. After getting an amniocentesis, I immediately brought him the paternity test results to prove the baby was his. He came home acting like a changed man—hugging me, kissing me, claiming that he didn't cheat on me. The very next day, he booked a hotel and threw a banquet, announcing to all our friends and family that he was going to be a father. However, when his mistress saw the news, she completely lost it. She showed up with a group of people, blocked me in the street, and—despite my pregnancy—started punching and kicking me. "You shameless woman! How dare you carry my man's child? Are you that desperate to die?"