Dry Bones Koopa Novels & Stories

Synopsis - Isabelle Ellwood, a plain, fuller-figured 19-year-old, hides her poetic soul and dreams of teaching behind dry wit, overshadowed by her beautiful sister who is counted as a family jewel for her grace and beauty and an ambitious father dreaming of snagging a royal title. When Prince Sebastian Nathaniel Winthorne, a bold, dark, and formidable warrior-king at 30, announces a bride-selection season at Cresthaven Palace, Isabelle dares to hope—not for love, but to glimpse the scarred-handed savior of her childhood. Unbeknownst to her, and him, he’s Sebastian, whose commanding presence and passionate heart blind him to her worth, fixated instead on the angelic Amelia Everhart, Isabelle's dearest friend. A secret library meeting shatters Isabelle’s illusions: Sebastian seeks her help to woo Amelia, praising her mind yet oblivious to her love. Their friendship deepens—his admiration grows, her longing festers—culminating in a rain-soaked confrontation where the lavender and breeze ignites his primal desire, clashing with her insecurities. Public scorn and familial cruelty drive Isabelle to flee, forcing Sebastian to confront the void she leaves. As time apart unravels his obsession with Amelia, he pursues Isabelle, his awakening raw and relentless. Their reunion at a glittering ball sparks a dance of resentment and longing, leading to a climactic confession where love triumphs over doubt. Isabelle’s journey from invisible dreamer to empowered princess, and Sebastian’s shift from idealized obsession to soul-deep love, crafts a tale of unseen hearts finding their place—a fiercely unique love story for readers craving wit, angst, and romance. In the opulent yet unforgiving world of Regency-inspired Eldoria, The Crown's Wrong Kiss weaves a slow-burn romance of unrequited love, repressed desire, and transformative self-worth.

SUMMARY: Haunted by her aunt’s final words, Lyra disguises herself as a maid in Veyron's territory—the ruthless pack leader responsible for the destruction of her village. Survival is her only goal… until Veyron claims her as his fated mate. To Lyra, he is nothing but a monster wrapped in power and bloodshed. Loving him is unthinkable. Escaping him feels impossible. As an ancient prophecy begins to close in around her, Lyra discovers that her fate is far more dangerous than she ever imagined—and that the bond tying her to Veyron may be the key to either her awakening or her ruin. Tormented by his past and an approaching darkness, Veyron never expected his fated mate to be living in his home—or to reject him. When he loses control, he proves her right to fear him. Even with the fate of the world at stake, he can’t risk letting her out of his sight… and despite everything, he still wants her. TRIGGER WARNING: Morally gray werewolves, forced intimacy, and romance that lives firmly in the “this is probably a red flag” zone. Consent may be compromised. Proceed with caution—and maybe a glass of wine. CHAPTER PREVIEW: Lyra swallowed hard, her throat dry, but the words escaped her lips before she could stop them. “I’m a reject,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “The man who was supposed to be my mate chose my sister instead.” His palms slammed the wall beside her head as his roar blew the hair out of her face. Lyra flinched, recoiling. His growl deepened, reverberating through the small space. “Whoever rejected you is irrelevant,” he snarled, his voice dripping with finality. “You. Belong. To me.”

Faith McChrystal My mom taught me one important thing "Never trust anyone because they all leave when they're are done sucking you dry" And yes, that's how I ended up being a 24 year old single woman with no boyfriend, no girlfriend, no bestfriend but a shitty job and apartment. Life was normal until I found the job at C&S Clothing as the executive assistant. It's not a problem to work for a gay couple right? The problem is when the two sinister hot-as-hell bosses are the epitome of every fantasy you've had. Jared Scott and Hardin Calu were going to take me to an early grave. Hardin Calu I HATE WOMEN. I hate every fucking thing about them. That's why I was married to one and only man I had in my life. Jared! He was everything one could pray for. He saved me from my old self and turned me to a loving person. But fuck me, I was still cold and hard as ice. Everything that involved women made my skin crawl painfully. Their rosy scents and gloss-smeared lips, their tied skirts and slutty suits, fucking everything about them was a reminder of what happened. What made me scared. Until the little Faith McChrystal walked into that office. Jared Scott. Money! Power! A good marriage! I had it all. Life was beautiful with my man. Hardin Calu! He was a loving husband who'd wake me up with breakfast, and a kiss on my head, who'd kiss every pain away. Who made me see the world differently. I was complete with him. Or so I thought! Because a fucking nerdy chick walked into our office for interview and turned everything upside down!

“Yes, I am Dom. Your dom.” Did he say that last part or I imagined it? Letting out a shaky breath, I slid away from his lap. The front of my panties, scraped against his lap slowly as I slid from him and his light grey eyes darkened. I had no idea my pussy was so drenched that it left a mark on his pants. Jesus! Who is this man and what has he done to me? Soon I was seated beside him, his thighs pressing close to mine as we both drank. Electricity kept shooting tingles up my legs and I felt light-headed. He was silent and I suddenly felt nervous like I needed to speak to this deliciously fair man that sat brooding. Clearing my throat, I tapped his leg—unconsciously on the spot my pussy left—and he looked up, smirking at me. My mouth went dry immediately. “Is there something you want?” he asked. “Uh…No, I mean yes. Is this normal for you?” His handsome features morphed into a frown, “Having a girl leave a wet spot on my pants or taking wine in a bar?” I just discovered that my poor, useless, and filthy father who died a month ago left me a luxurious Cabin in Bakersfield. HOW!? Wish I insisted on that question. I shouldn’t have taken the plunge and moved into that house, but I am a broke, poor virgin and will soon be homeless, so I did. It might as well be the worst or best decision I have ever made because, in 12 hours, my life changed. COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER ON THE BOOK COVER!!!! contact the author for it to be removed if there is an issue

Imran Khan’s life falls apart the day his father disappears, leaving him drowning in debt and hunted by dangerous men. With no way out, he makes a desperate choice, selling one night of his life to a stranger. But that stranger turns out to be Rafaelle Moretti, a powerful and dangerous man who doesn’t just want one night… he wants control. What starts as a deal quickly turns into something darker. Possession. Power. Desire. Imran wants freedom. Rafaelle doesn’t let go. “Say my name, Gattino.” His voice came out low, smooth, and controlled, the kind that didn’t need to be loud to make your body react. It wrapped around me, heavy and dangerous, as his body pressed mine deeper into the mattress. I could feel the weight of him, solid and unyielding, hovering just enough to remind me that I wasn’t going anywhere unless he allowed it. I swallowed, my throat dry, my chest rising and falling too fast. Even thinking his name felt like stepping into something I couldn’t come back from. His hand pinned my wrist above my head, not rough, not painful, just firm enough to remind me who was in control. The other slid slowly along my side, fingers dragging in a way that made my skin heat up against my will. Every touch was deliberate, like he was studying me, learning how I reacted without me saying a word. “Say it,” he murmured again, his face closer now, his breath warm against my lips.

DAILY UPDATE — I don't love you. — I muttered. He set his wine aside and stood up, slowly closing the distance between us, and with his fingertips he touched my chin, his gaze wandering to my mouth and then lingering on my eyes. — I don't love you either, princess, and I don't intend to. He said those words with complete coldness and walked away sitting down again and it infuriated me. — Why fight a tournament for my hand then? All this because I'm a princess? — I asked like a shot. — You are a Lancaster princess and I need a worthy heir. — I wish my uterus was dry as the desert sands, Commander. He glared at me and I saw a flash of anger in his black eyes, but at the same instant he hid it and put his cynical smile in place. — So in that case we would have to try many times, dear, until your uterus becomes less dry. I would try for the rest of my life even. — He countered maliciously. In a tournament by the hand of Princess Helena Lancaster her destiny to cross with John Chase, a fearsome commander and warrior, with a peculiar personality. He was everything she detested, possessive, audacious, authoritarian, and dominant in the extreme, and he was the who had the best chance of winning the tournament for her hand. But John Chase was much more than a commander of Corvo Island, he was hiding a dark secret that would change her life forever. An island full of mysterious men, with their own secrets and conflicts, and she would be their lady, soon Helena would discover that a great danger lurks on the island, could she trust her husband to protect her?

My father-in-law said he wanted to experience "how the young folks have fun these days," so I took him to my wife's newly opened upscale cocktail bar for a quiet drink. I’d just finished ordering him a custom cocktail when a man from a booth across the room swaggered over, glass in hand. His eyes scanned the drink menu on our table, and a condescending smirk twisted his lips. "Only ordering the cheapest well drinks?" he sneered. "Brought the old man here to enjoy the free air conditioning? Trash like you belongs in a dive bar. Who even let you in here?" Anger burned in my chest. I stood up, my jaw clenched. "We're paying customers. What's it to you?" But before I could say another word, his face darkened with pure rage. He snatched the half-finished beer bottle from our table and smashed it on my head. "My girl owns this place!" he snarled. "Even if I crack your skull open, I can afford the payout! You filthy pauper—either get on your knees and lick my shoes dry, or get the hell out of my sight. You're an eyesore." The beer dripped down my face. My hands trembled with fury as I wiped it away. Then, a cold calm settled over me. I opened my phone, switched to the camera, and went live. "Alright, everyone," I said into the screen. "You won't want to miss this. We're going live to catch my cheating wife and see the double life she's been leading."

“You are playing with fire, Alyssa,” he warned. “I’m trying not to lose control.” The emotions were roiling inside of her, building to something far greater than anything she’d experienced with any other man. Sometimes we run away from the one person we should be running to... *** From USA Today bestselling author and the author of Billionaire’s Secret Baby, comes a brand-new suspenseful romance about a socialite falling in love with the man ordered to protect her. With one hell of a twist, this steamy romance is a must read! Agent Scott Tabor was as sexy walking away as he was coming toward you. You know the kind of attractive that makes your mouth dry, and your palms sweat before you ever speak to the man? Yeah… that’s my reality. But let’s back up a second. It all started a few weeks after my parents died in a freak accident. While I was trying to grieve, my long-lost uncle came into the picture. At first, I thought Uncle Frank was trying to make an effort—until I came home to a nightmare. Forced to abandon my apartment, I turned to my lawyer and old boyfriend, Nate Livingston. Only his very pregnant wife wasn’t too happy with me hanging around. And who could blame her? Meanwhile, Uncle Frank was doing everything in his power to make my life a living hell. Enter Scott Tabor, FBI agent extraordinaire and my new roommate. I’m sure we can keep everything platonic. After all, we are both adults. Adults with wants, needs, and dare I say, an insane attraction for each other?

In our pack, every wolf has one chance in their lifetime to use an enhancement elixir to strengthen their wolf abilities, but this elixir is only effective when brewed by oneself. In my previous life, although I was a normal Omega, I worked day and night brewing my wolf enhancement elixir to become the Gamma of our pack. But on the day of the selection, after I shifted into my wolf form, I completely lost control. My wolf immediately prostrated itself at the feet of Victoria, the current Beta's granddaughter. Amid the cheers of the entire pack, Victoria became the new Gamma. Meanwhile, I was beaten and ridiculed. Everyone claimed I had stolen Victoria's enhancement elixir, which was why I couldn't control my wolf. They cut off both my hands and threw me into a silver mine. I died in excruciating pain in that silver pit, my very bones corroded by the silver. Until my dying breath, I couldn't understand—how could the elixir I brewed myself make my wolf submit to Victoria? When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to one week before the Gamma selection of the pack. This time, I gave up my right to compete and entered the forest alone to train for battle. Beta Richard stood at the empty doorway of my house, questioning me through our mind-link about why I was leaving the pack at such a crucial time. Meanwhile, I was removing my protective amulet, shifting into my wolf form alone to fight in the territory of the Rogue wolves.

My sister, Bella, had a baby in a back-alley shithole. Then she disappeared. A midwife tracked me down using an address Bella left behind. She shoved the newborn at me like a sack of garbage. My parents fell to their knees. Crying. Begging me to take her bastard. Just like that, my future as a promising artist was gone. The neighbors, the priest, my landlord… they all called me a whore. A sinner who had disgraced God. They ran me out of the neighborhood . My life was over. Eighteen years later, Bella waltzed back into my life. A cheap thug with a fake Rolex dangled from her arm. She held my son, crocodile tears streaming down her face. She called me jealous. Accused me of stealing her flesh and blood. Of keeping a mother from her child. And my son? The one I bled myself dry for? The son I poured every last cent into, turning him into a brilliant painter? The son I starved for, so much that I ended up in a hospital bed? The moment he saw his "real" mother, he cast me aside without a second thought. "You pathetic, broke bitch!" he spat. "You stole everything from us! All the happiness that was supposed to be ours!" My parents threw me out like a dog. Bella's thug husband had his men corner me in the red-light district. They pinned me against a wall, their threats vile and clear: Never come back. I had no way out. I threw myself off the Brooklyn Bridge. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back. Eighteen years in the past. Then came the knock. Hell had found my door. I wasn’t going to be the fool who gave everything and got nothing. This time, I took control.