Gol D Roger Haki Novels & Stories

'The Devil’s Moon' is a gritty, sexy second-chance romance packed with fierce chemistry, biker drama, and the kind of love that refuses to stay buried. When Frank 'Cole' Porter went to prison, he lost more than his freedom... he lost the only woman he’d ever loved. Nala Freeman vanished without a trace, driven away by threats meant to keep her far from the world of the Road Devils MC. Cole spent years believing she’d abandoned him. Nala spent those same years doing whatever it took to survive… and protect the life she’d built away from him. Now, danger from a rival MC has dragged them back into each other’s orbit, and the sparks between them burn hotter than ever. Cole wants answers. Nala wants to keep her carefully buried secrets hidden. But with enemies closing in and old wounds ripping open, resisting each other becomes impossible. In a world ruled by loyalty, violence, and revenge, love might be the most dangerous risk of all.

I served three years in federal prison for the Don's precious Sophia, and then he suddenly fell for me. The day he came to pick me up, he had a sapphire necklace ready, the kind I'd begged him for once and never got. I dropped it onto the back seat without a second glance. His expression darkened. "If you have something to say, just say it. Don't take it out on things." I smiled. "Three years inside taught me never to keep anything valuable on me. It would only bring trouble." He swallowed hard and pulled me close. "That's over now. You have me. Whatever you want, I'll get it for you." I pushed him back. "Then give me my wedding ring." I'd told him once: if the day ever came that I was leaving, I'd take that ring with me. Three years had been more than enough to kill whatever love I had left.

My fiancé was sleeping with my maid of honor. I caught them the night before our wedding. I didn't make a sound. I closed the door, walked back to my bridal suite, and sat at the vanity until my hands stopped shaking. Then I grabbed my keys. At two in the morning I drove forty blocks across Manhattan and knocked on Atlas Marchetti's door. Two years ago I'd told my family I wouldn't marry him. He hadn't said a word about it since. He opened the door in pajama pants. "Marry me tomorrow," I said. He didn't say yes. He poured himself a drink first, listened to everything, and then handed me a piece of paper with terms I should have read more carefully. I signed at dawn. Six hours later I walked down the aisle Carter and I had planned. The Plaza ballroom. The dress I'd chosen in spring. Three hundred guests who came to watch me marry the wrong man. I married someone else instead. Carter watched it happen. He didn't understand yet what he'd lost, and he wouldn't understand for months. Not until he found out who owned the company he ran, and how long Atlas had been bleeding it. I went to Atlas for revenge. He'd been writing this for two years.

I used to be a top ballet dancer. The year I was diagnosed with a spinal hemangioma, my boyfriend Julian Blackwood said, "Wherever you go, I go." We'd been together three years. He walked beside me as I went, step by step, from the most luminous dancer on that stage to a woman in a wheelchair. Every time the nerve pain hit and I collapsed, he was the one who lifted me off the floor. Every round of electrostim and acupuncture, he sat in the corridor outside the therapy room and waited for me to come out. Before I got sick, he promised me—the night I finished my final performance of Swan Lake, we'd sign the marriage license. He'd bought tickets for that show three months in advance. I never stood on that stage again. And the marriage license never came up. Until the morning I noticed the collar of his white dress shirt carried a smudge of lipstick that wasn't mine. I heard him on the balcony. A woman's voice on the other end. "Mr. Blackwood, you left your jacket at the hotel last night. I'll bring it over." I stared at that smear of red, and something in me snapped. I laughed. "Send me to Westbrook. The locked-down rehab facility. I don't want to drag you down anymore." Something flickered in his eyes—a brief, animal panic. Then he nodded. He thought I meant rest. He didn't know I'd already signed the papers to donate my body to science. I was going there to die.

My twin sister Elena and I were mated to the Alpha twins. Only the first pup born between my sister and me would become the pack’s Alpha heir. My sister got pregnant a month before me and she was supposed to give birth to the heir first, but I went into labor prematurely a month early. But when I was about to give birth, I chose to sit in a chamber filled with special potions that suppresses contractions. Because in my previous life, my Alpha mate Marcus had dragged me into wolfsbane-laced water to delay my labor. In the end, both my pup and I had died there. The agony had been unbearable. I'd sobbed and pleaded, begging him to explain why he was doing this to me. But he'd ignored my cries completely. All he cared about was rushing Elena to the pack's birthing den. "My brother Gabriel died saving my life," he'd snarled at me then. "The only way to honor that blood debt is to ensure his child becomes the pack heir. You can resent Elena all you want on any other day, but not today. Just hold on a little longer." "This is a special potion. You'll be safe and sound. Trust me!" Safe？ I'd suffered in that basement chamber for an entire day and night. My child suffocated in my womb while the wolfsbane poisoning consumed me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day of my labor. This time, I have to save myself.

He almost never texts me first, and in person he barely says a word. In three years together, he's never remembered a single anniversary, and he's never once suggested we celebrate a holiday. But the second I message him first, he lights up, all "baby" this and "baby" that, fussing over me, coaxing me to sleep. Sometimes I'd get this strange feeling that there were two different Noahs. His explanation was that he was just bad with words face-to-face, and that texting or voice notes felt like less pressure. I kept telling myself that being together meant meeting each other halfway. He was quiet and reserved, so I'd be the one to reach out. He forgot anniversaries, so I booked the restaurant and reminded him to keep the night free. He had no time to schedule our engagement shoot, so I handled the whole thing with the studio myself. He was too busy with work to help us move, so I packed everything alone, booked the movers, and got it all done. When I was so worn out I was about to break, I'd send him a voice note, and he'd say, "I'm so sorry, baby. The lab was insane today. I couldn't be there for you, and it kills me to watch you run yourself into the ground." Hearing how guilty he sounded, all my hurt just melted away. And that's how I carried three years of this relationship on my own, running on the flawless tenderness he only ever gave me online. Until today, when I found a program on his laptop called Boyfriend Assistant. It analyzed every message I sent and generated the perfect reply, the perfect response, every single time. Cold snap? It sent: Bundle up, baby. Time of the month? It pinged an API and auto-ordered hot chocolate to my door. All those late nights he spent "working," the gentle voice notes that lulled me to sleep, every one of them was synthesized in Noah's voice. For three years, the person who'd been there for me, day and night, was never Noah at all. For three years, I'd been performing a one-woman show.

Four years ago, I made the mistake of challenging Tristan King. I saw him as a rude, arrogant jackass who deserved to be put in his place and He told me I’ll regret ever crossing him. Now he’s a billionaire with a revenge plan, one that starts with destroying my family and ends with breaking me. He swore I’d beg for mercy. He swore he’d end me. But what happens when the man who hates me becomes the only one I can’t stay away from? An enemies to lovers dark romance rated 18. ***

Her father sold her to a ruthless Mafia boss, Cassian Gavino. Cassian hated her to the core, he'd forcefully make her watch him and his mistress having sex, he'd beat her whenever he's upset and made sure she starved to sleep on some nights. Then a mistake happened, Cassian was drunk, he forcefully had sex with her and she got pregnant. Getting pregnant worsened her situation. Her pregnancy led to her drastic death, but she was given a second chance at life when she was reborn.

The past Day 159 after the first New Species were freed Joy tried to relax in the chair but worry over her client made her fidget. She glanced at the clock, noting he was late again. Minutes ticked by while her anger grew. It was the fourth session in a row that 466 had blown off. He did it on purpose. She knew he was going to be irate over what she’d done in retaliation but he’d left her with no choice. The loud sound of a menacing growl startled her. Her gaze flew to the door a second before it was thrown open. 466 hovered in the hallway, his rich brown hair messed up as if he’d dried it upside down with a blow dryer to give it that fullness. Rage showed in his narrowed, dark gaze. She guessed he’d been the source of the noise. He was pushed forward as one of the guards entered the office behind her client. “Here he is. He wasn’t happy but we got him.” The man shot a dirty look at 466. “Four of his men convinced him to come along or we would have had to drag his inside in shackles. He wanted to fight me.” She winced. “Please sit, 466.” “It seems I don’t have a choice.” He sauntered over to the chair in front of her desk and dropped his big body down hard enough to make the piece of furniture groan. “So much for saying we are free.”

Dad, I laughed quietly to myself. If you could see me now. You’d never think I’d ever be here. An actual werewolf sleeping at my feet? I’m really back in Jericho… Seems so silly, fighting you all these years and in the end here I am. Maybe you’d be happy. I don’t know. I like him... Elias. He seems like a great guy, maybe you'd like him too. Seriously, though, he's the alpha of your old pack. He seems dangerous and yet, he saved me. He seems to care about me, and maybe I'm silly for feeling it but I think I like him too. Six months ago Freya's father died, sending her to the bustling city of Jericho. Nearly kidnapped her first night and actually kidnapped her second she finds herself at the mercy of the mysterious Alpha Elias of the Hollow Moon Pack. Her attraction to him is hard to ignore but she wasn't born a werewolf. Her conflicting instincts to want to run and reject this pack are prevented why she finds out Elias has to be the one to reject her. Just seeing the way Elias looks at her, though, Freya can tell it will take some convincing to finally be free from him. Then again... does she want to be?