Fade To Black Novel

Alice Long and I were caught in the crossfire. When my boyfriend—a combat medic responsible for saving the wounded—came to our rescue, he pushed me aside. Gently cradling Alice, the girl I had shielded, he shot me a cold glance and said, "Crystal, I'm deeply disappointed in you. She needs immediate care to avoid infection!" What about me? Was I meant to die instead? When my flag-draped coffin arrived home, he had the nerve to weep openly at my memorial. This once-renowned combat medic, celebrated around the globe, never set foot outside his room again.

After giving birth to Alpha Wesley Silvermoon's pup, I fell into severe postpartum depression. Whenever the scent he left on me began to fade, I couldn't help but have the urge to hurt myself. It was Wesley who held me tight in his arms, kissing my forehead repeatedly, saying, "Don't be afraid, Maggie. The pup and I will stay with you, always." Every morning, he took me to see a therapist. In the afternoon, he handled the pack's affairs. At night, he fed Brett the pup himself. The dark circles beneath his eyes grew heavier by the day, yet he never once complained. Until one day. Brett was crying for his mother, while I hid in the bathroom, hurting myself. When Wesley saw what happened, he completely lost it. He grabbed me by the throat viciously. "If you don't want a pup, you shouldn't have had one! You gave birth to it, but you can't even take care of it! You don't deserve to be a mother!" He bellowed, "How much longer are you going to torment this family? You want to die so badly? Fine! I'll help you!" The moment he said that, he instantly came back to his senses. He broke his wrist and apologized to me. I didn't say anything, merely staring blankly at the phone that had fallen to the floor. The screen was still lit. 37 missed calls. All from the same name. Rowena Sawthorne. She was someone who had recently returned to the pack. Wesley's first love from his youth. She was healthy, beautiful, confident. She and Wesley were once the celebrity couple that everyone admired. Even Brett, whom I had nearly died giving birth to, would smile when she held him in her arms. Perhaps only she was worthy of being his mate, worthy of being Brett's mother. Maybe, this was for the best. At last, I could die without any worry.

Six years after marrying Rhiannon Westley, she takes a lover. He's like a puppy—timid and clingy. He flinches at the slightest raised voice, so Rhiannon never loses her temper in front of him. But when he acts up in front of me, Rhiannon snaps. She's furious, and she gives him a harsh scolding. The next day, he sends me a photo of his neck covered in red marks. "Zane, Ms. Westley is so fierce..."

Elena Frost has been by Aaron Reed's side for a decade. He goes from being a broke freshman who almost drops out of university to the proud CEO of Reed Corporation. Everyone in Halston City knows Aaron loves Elena more than life itself. At one point, even Elena believed this. Then, in the third year of her and Aaron's marriage, she discovers his mistress. He even has a one-year-old child with her. Since Aaron doesn't appreciate the sacrifice Elena has made to be with him, she decides to take it all back. … Aaron sees Mia Wynn as a distraction and a form of entertainmen and heir child is an accident. Elena is the only person he truly treasures. But when Elena disappears without a trace and takes half of his soul with her, he realizes one thing—he's the true loser in the relationship he's betrayed.

"Her mom's a witch. Her dad's a demon.And she just wants to be ordinary.Being part of a demon raising is way less exciting than it sounds.Sydlynn Hayle's teen life couldn't be more complicated. Trying to please her coven is all a fantasy while the adventure of starting over in a new town and fending off a bully cheerleader who hates her are just the beginning of her troubles. What to do when delicious football hero Brad Peters--boyfriend of her cheer nemesis--shows interest? If only the darkly yummy witch, Quaid Moromond, didn't make it so difficult for her to focus on fitting in with the normal kids despite her paranormal, witchcraft laced home life. Forced to take on power she doesn't want to protect a coven who blames her for everything, only she can save her family's magic.If her family's distrust doesn't destroy her first.Hayle Coven Novels is created by Patti Larsen, an EGlobal Creative Publishing signed author."

Me metí en una novela. Y no como la protagonista ni como la villana, sino como una extra bonita, sin nombre, de esas que solo aparecen de fondo para rellenar escenas. El problema es mi hermano mayor: de todos los personajes, es el único que se comporta como una persona normal, y justo por eso, en la novela lo pintan como el “amor imposible” de la protagonista: un dios frío, reservado, casi intocable, al que ella jamás logra conquistar. Cuando ella se le declara entre lágrimas, él responde que está estudiando. Cuando le promete entregarle todo, él dice que anda montando un negocio. Cuando ella se deja caer y se pierde entre galanes, él ya está en la cima, con un éxito brutal y diez mil millones de dólares al año. Yo, de verdad, pensé que iba a vivir en paz, sin deseos, sin tentaciones, así para siempre. Hasta que una noche, ya de madrugada, lo encontré con una prenda que yo reconocería en cualquier parte entre sus manos… y, en voz baja, casi obsesivo, repitiendo un nombre una y otra vez. Un nombre demasiado familiar, demasiado cercano.

Growing up, my mother always told me — choose your fated mate. Otherwise, you'll end up betrayed. But I was convinced Lennox was different. After all, he was willing to give up his position as Alpha for me. So I gave up my own fated mate for him. I even nearly died saving his life, and the injuries left my wolf permanently dormant. But barely two years later, rumors about him and an Omega named Alice were everywhere. And because my wolf was dormant, I couldn't sense a thing. I didn't find out he'd broken our vows until Alice showed up at my door with a pregnancy test. The whole Stonebrook Pack was laughing behind my back. Lennox dropped to his knees, eyes red and swollen. "I'm sorry. I was drunk that night. I'll make her end the pregnancy. I swear." I looked down at our one-year-old son in my arms. I nodded and forgave him — that one time. After that, he behaved. He was attentive, affectionate, doting — until one day, five years later, when I was at the gym. A young woman on the machine beside me was whining. "Everything down there gets so loose after having a baby. I really need to tighten things up." I didn't bother looking at her face. I let out a quiet laugh and started to leave. Then her phone rang. She answered, her voice coy and flirtatious. "So, Alpha Lennox — when are you finally going to end things with that woman? She's old, and she's lost her wolf. Can she even satisfy you?" "Of course not. I miss you so much, baby." I froze mid-step at the sound of his voice.

The ninety-ninth time my Alpha mate blocked our mind-link, I was in the final stages of Wolf Spirit Decay. I dragged my broken body into the Council Hall. The cold marble steps grated against the soles of my feet, and with every step, a tearing pain ripped through my chest. "I am here to petition to leave the pack." The council official studied my pale, thin form with a pitying gaze and asked softly, "Are you certain, Miss? You would be giving up the pack's protection." Since childhood, my wolf has been unstable, making me frail. Ever since my father brought home my adopted sister, Lydia, when I was ten, my parents have treated me like a disgrace to the family. Despite being his marked mate for years, Caleb never promised me a Luna ceremony. He rarely even took me to pack gatherings. As a result, hardly anyone in the pack knew who I was. "It doesn't matter," I said, my voice calm despite the effort. "I will be dead in three days."

I was born into hardship, but my beauty led to my adoption by the Maddox family. When I was 18, they brought home two boys. Dustin Holland, a piano prodigy, quickly bonded with my sister, who was the darling of our social circle. Nathan Holland remained in the shadows. He didn't like to talk, laugh, or even show the normal emotional fluctuations of a person. His stubborn, wooden gaze was like that of an abandoned stray dog. Diagnosed with emotional detachment disorder, he became my project. I vowed to heal him. He locked me in a dark room, scarred my face with a branch, and encased my favorite doll in plaster. I forgave it all, thinking he was just traumatized. The elite in the circle mocked us, urging me to abandon him, but I kissed him publicly, declaring, "I love Nathan. Anyone who hurts him will pay." Then a fire tore through our home. Nathan stepped over my broken body to save my sister, his eyes wet with rare tears. Turned out, his disorder had a cure. It was just not me. Reborn on the day they arrived, I looked at the taciturn boy and sneered, "Dad, must we take in every stray?"

On the night of my fifth wedding anniversary with Sebastian Gray, he lit up the entire city with fireworks for me. All our friends kept saying what a wonderful man he was—so loving, so romantic. The kind of husband every woman dreams of. At the grand finale, the fireworks burst into words that lit up the night sky: Happy Birthday, Jen. Jennifer Kingsley was Sebastian's first love, his ideal woman, the one who had always lingered in his heart. Sebastian looked at me, his expression almost sheepish. "Ah, it's Jen's birthday too. They must have mixed up the fireworks." That night, Jennifer posted on her social media: "Men are boys till the day they die, always fumbling their way through romance." She added a picture of the fireworks, along with a photo of her and Sebastian standing close under the dazzling display. I liked her post and left a comment: "From school to altar—what a touching love story. When's the wedding?"