Dorothy Must Die Series Novels & Stories

What was supposed to be a punishment for captain Ysabelle Gum soon turns into a romantic getaway when she catches the attention of a celeb musician on her team. Ysabelle has no interest in men, especially celebrities, she just wants to shoot and kill to her heart’s content. However, she is forced to reconsider when she is tasked with being his bodyguard. Ysabelle wants no part of it, not when the singer is hell-bent on making her love him. Actor and singer Jordan Bell was used to being fawned over, by fans and family. But he realizes he needs something else, something deeper. When he is cast in a military drama, Jordan and his team go to shooting stations, where he meets Ysabelle, who against all odds saved his life during a shooting mistake. Jordan is sure she is the one for him, and he vows to make her his bodyguard. But the thing is, Ysabelle has no interest in him, and no amount of broken bones will keep him away.

Estella's quiet life goes up in flames when she is seduced into her billionaire boss's bed and finds herself suddenly pregnant. To save her baby's future and her peace of mind, she runs away to start a new life far away from Diego and his cruel girlfriend. But nothing stays hidden forever and when Diego finds her again, he's not about to let her go. The billionaire is willing to use all the tools in his arsenal to get her into his bed, but what starts as a game of passion quickly turns into a game of the heart. And in the game of the heart, there is no winner.

When I was three years old, during a car accident, I was struck in the head by a car while trying to protect Mom. After that, the doctors said something inside my head had broken, and I'd never be quite right. Everyone back home called me the slow one. Late at night, I'd see her crying alone. On my seventh birthday, Mom took me to Manhattan, and that was when I discovered that she had a second home and another daughter, Charlotte. In front of strangers, she wouldn't claim me. She only let me call her Miss Eleanor. On the third night, She sat down at her vanity. On the table was a small black box. I thought it was a present. She opened the box and took out a black silicone bracelet, with a little light embedded in the clasp—small, dark, switched off. "This is called a TruthBand. It's something a company in California makes. The light turns green when you tell the truth, and red when you lie. If you wear this, Mommy will always know." She fastened it around my wrist. Tight. The little light blinked green. I thought that if I was good enough, she would love me the way she loved my sister. But then she made me do ski practice with Charlotte. Charlotte was a junior champion. "You're both my daughters. I don't play favorites. Whoever falls, gets punished." Charlotte never fell. I couldn't even keep my skis straight. Every single run, I was the one Mama dragged off the mountain and locked in the cellar. On Thanksgiving Day, Mama spent the whole afternoon cooking. I wanted to help. I dropped a bowl. She closed her eyes. When she opened them, they were red. She grabbed a little pill bottle off the counter, tipped my chin up, and forced something between my teeth. "Dumb as a rat. Are you happy now? Did you finally embarrass me enough? " I lay on the kitchen floor, gasping. While she wasn't looking, I scraped up three little pink pellets that had spilled and tucked them into my fist. Mommy, I told myself, I'll be good now, and then you'll be happy. Right?

When I was four months pregnant, my fiance, who was a doctor, left me hanging when we were supposed to get married. This was not the first time; this was the sixteenth time. The first time, his nurse fainted at the sight of blood during an operation, and I waited for him for an entire day at the city hall. The second time, his nurse called, and he left me behind on a viaduct to buy daily necessities for her. Whenever we were about to get married, his nurse would call him for all sorts of problems. The final time was when he told me he was sick. Despite the rain, I rushed to the hospital, only to find that it was his nurse who was sick. He stayed by her side to care for her while he lied to me without batting an eye. At that moment, I began to hate him. I aborted our baby and left. But he chased after me and even traveled out of the country just to apologize.

"Choke on my dick, baby girl," Daddy growled, fisting my hair as he shoved his cock down my throat. "This what you wanted?" he growled. "Your uncle's cock inside you? Fucking you while your parents sleep upstairs?" • She’s young, dripping wet, and utterly fucked the moment they lay eyes on her. In YOURS, DADDIES, one insatiable woman gets claimed hard and without mercy by older, dominant men who know exactly how to break her open and make her beg. These aren’t gentle lovers—they’re rough, experienced daddies who growl “Mine” while pinning her down, stretching her tight holes with thick cocks, and filling her until she’s leaking their cum and screaming their names. From the ruthless CEO who bends her over his desk, spanking her ass red before fucking her throat raw and calling her his perfect little slut… to the tattooed brothers who take turns pounding her in every position, double-penetrating her until she’s a trembling, cum-drenched mess, sobbing “Yes, Daddy, harder.” Every story is packed with filthy daddy kink: choking grips on her throat, praise mixed with degradation (“Such a good girl taking two cocks like a whore”), rough breeding fantasies, light bondage, and group scenes where multiple alphas use her body like their personal toy—edging her, denying her orgasms, then ruining her with explosive releases. No vanilla bullshit here. Just raw, sweat-soaked, pussy-pounding obsession. She gets marked, owned, and ruined in the dirtiest ways possible—left gaping, bruised, and addicted to being their fucktoy. If you can’t handle getting soaked just reading the warnings… walk away now. But if you crave being utterly destroyed by possessive daddies who won’t stop until you’re theirs forever—open wide, baby girl. They’re coming for every hole.

Five years after I mated to Alpha Derek Blackwood, his childhood sweetheart broke her mate bond with another Alpha and returned to our pack. Even worse, I had depleted my life force saving Derek when he was mortally wounded, and now I was dying. In the less than six months I had left to live, I continued to play the role of Derek's good mate. Until I passed away. And Derek, after reading the journal I left behind, completely fell apart.

It was a full moon, and my mate, Alpha Ethan, bailed on our son's coming-of-age ceremony rehearsal. All because his Omega mistress, Scarlett, was in heat. Then, during the actual ceremony, our son Caleb was ambushed by a rival pack. By the time I heard the news, Caleb had been shot. He was dead, lying in a pool of his own blood. I knelt beside him, completely breaking down, when Ethan's voice, faking an apology, came through the mind link: "Sorry, Scarlett needs me. I'm sure Caleb can handle things. Just make sure Caleb gets some rest early, don't let him run around and mess up tomorrow's celebration." I looked at my son's broken body, my voice trembling, "He won't be running anywhere anymore." "Good," Ethan said, sounding pleased. "Scarlett's bloodline is purer. She's better suited to give the Stone Pack strong heirs. You should understand." I cut the link. After I committed my son's body to the flames, I found the secret ritual to break a mate bond and contacted a wolf I hadn't spoken to in a long, long time: "The protection wards on Stone Pack territory are down. You can make your move."

They were my brother’s best friends—the HawkThorne brothers. Wealthy, ruthless, and filthy enough to make the whole city drop to its knees. I was the good girl once. The perfect wife. Until my husband had sex with half my office and shoved me into an open marriage I never asked for. One night at a bar was supposed to be my rebellion—a dirty little secret to make me forget. I never expected to run into them. Six years had made them look harder, darker, and so much hotter. I shouldn’t have let them touch me. Shouldn’t have let them ruin me against a bathroom sink with their filthy mouths and rough hands. Three men. One night. No promises. But the eldest HawkThorne pressed a card into my palm before I could slip away. I thought I could handle them. Thought I could survive their obsession. Now I’m learning there’s no such thing as just sex with the HawkThorne brothers. They don’t share. They claim. They corrupt. And they’re coming for every last filthy piece of me.

Lira was never meant to survive the fire. Marked by an ancient spiral and hunted by the bloodline that should have protected her, she has spent her life being shaped into someone else’s weapon. A queen. A mate. A vessel for power older than memory. But Lira has learned the cost of obedience. When the ruins of her past rise again and Draven returns with promises of thrones, legacy, and a kingdom built from blood, Lira is forced to face the truth buried beneath every scar. The spiral was never only a curse. It was a calling. And now that calling has awakened something inside her that even the dead still fear. Kael stands beside her, bloodied, loyal, and bound to her by more than survival. But love cannot shield her from what waits beneath the Bone Moon. Because Draven doesn’t only want Lira back. He wants the future she carries. And Lira will burn every throne before she lets her child inherit chains.

Three years ago, my husband, my parents, and my adopted sister faked their deaths to test whether I had married into the DeLuca family for love or for power. They cut off my money, took my home, and left me and my son with nothing. Three years later, they came back. My husband stepped out of a black Rolls-Royce, looked down at me, and said, “Evelyn, you passed the test.” What he didn’t know was that my son was already dead. And I was dying too.