Jeff The Killer Birthday Novels & Stories

Smiles aren't always pretty; especially when that sort of smile looks like a homicidal killer.Gabriella Bryce was told that a smile is a girl's precious jewelry. They were wrong. To her, it's like a makeup gone bad. With her forbidding and murderous smile that can chase off even a group of teenage football players; Gabriella was certain that she was destined to be forever alone.But that was until she saved a boy from a group of guys one night in a deserted alley...with her smile. Aelfric Beaumont, a vampire-werewolf hybrid and the boy she saved, was fascinated with her smile and has never left her alone since then. Following her like a sick love-struck and possessive puppy, every day became a game of chase for her. Especially when the Alpha of a werewolf pack is desperate for protection due to an impending pack war and sees Gabriella as a suitable mate for his son. Tyrelle Gawen; a werewolf boy forced by his father to attend the same school as Gabriella in order to pursue her.With two beasts following her every move, can Gabriella still live her life normally? Or will it be a never-ending tango between the three of them?

As my murderer's claws tear into my abdomen inch by inch, my father and brother are seated in our family's banquet hall. They're celebrating Carly's 18th birthday and coming-of-age. "You'll always be my little girl." "Happy birthday, Carly." They light 18 pink candles for her. On top of the exquisite red velvet cake is a wolf figurine that they carved for her, and there are well wishes and laughter all around. Meanwhile, I'm curled up in a sewer filled with liquid silver as I bleed to death. My phone has been crushed, and I can't get out. I can only cry for help. A few days later, my father and brother show up together at the autopsy room. My brother stands by the operating table with a scalpel. He slices open the body and sews it back up like it's nothing. My father just covers his nose as he shoots a disgusted glance at my body. He urges my brother to hurry up with the autopsy report. "The victim is a young female wolf presumed to be of pure lineage. Before her death, she was subjected to prolonged captivity and torture. Her throat is nearly severed, her cervical spine is dislocated, and her chest cavity has collapsed. She was also injected with liquid silver before death." Hearing the report, my father looks so calm that it's just like a case study of no consequence. Neither of them can recognize that the body belongs to me—their daughter and sister!

noong bata pa si Jiroh nakita nya kung pano walang hiyaang patayin ang mga kamag anak nya.He is 6yrs.that time but know he is 26 for now.He want a justice and revenge for her parents na pinatay ng magkakaibigan.Pero ang papatayin nya ay hindi sya kilala dahil sa bawat pagpatay nya naksuot sya ng mask.

BLURB One night. One murder. One photo that changed everything. I was just a broke journalism student trying to survive college on caffeine, ramen, and late-night shifts, Until I saw him pull the trigger. Lucian Romano. Green eyes like a forest fire. A smile that promises sin. And a last name that owns half the city… and most of its corpses. He should’ve killed me. Instead, he gave me a choice: Delete the photo. Say nothing. Or become useful. Now, I’m his “eyes” inside the university, spying on dealers, dodging bullets, and trying not to fall for the killer who sees me as a pawn. But secrets don’t stay buried. And in this game of blood, betrayal, and stolen kisses… One wrong move, and I’m dead. Or worse, his…

Alissa's life is pitiful. She's a slave, a 'thing' for the pack to take their aggression out on. With a new alpha about to take over, Alissa dreams her suffering will end. He biggest hope is that the new alpha will let her leave. He doesn't. For she's his mate. A mate he rejects in an instant and watches as her pack beat her to near death. One word changes her life, in a deep and powerful command, he saves her. But can the blossoming relationship survive a secret, a secret the pack had been hiding for centuries? A secret that could mean death for them all.

On my 16th birthday, I treat myself to the most delicious cake I can find. On that day, before I can even take a bite, my parents, who are always at odds with each other, sign their divorce papers right in front of me. So, on my wedding day, I tell my wife, Keira Jarrett, "If you ever want a divorce, just get me a birthday cake." She hugs me tightly and promises me."Don't worry. 'Birthday' won't even be a word in our home anymore." Seven years later, on Keira's birthday, her assistant, Jackson Price, throws her a surprise party. She slaps him across his handsome, gentle face and kicks him out of Jarrett Group. That day, I am convinced I have chosen the right woman for life. But three months later, on my birthday, I find out the supposedly fired Jackson has been promoted to Keira's personal secretary. He personally delivers a custom-made birthday cake to me. I call Keira to demand an explanation, but her voice on the other end is cold and distant. "Jack meant well. Don't be a spoilsport." I freeze for a moment, then hang up. It turns out my parents are right all along. The only way a birthday cake tastes right is when it's served with divorce papers.

During the five years I was in a vegetative state, all ten family soldiers assigned to guard me were murdered. One of them merely smoked a cigarette outside my hospital room. The next day, he was found upside down, drowned in a toilet. Another simply adjusted my pillow. The next day, he took a dive from a skyscraper rooftop. The Corleone family was in chaos, but they couldn't find a single trace of the killer. With no other choice, the ten executions, all textbook Mafia hits, became cold cases. Strangely, the very second the tenth guard's heart stopped, I opened my eyes. The first thing I did upon waking was call the FBI and turn myself in. The agents were stunned. "Miss Corleone, are you saying that while in a coma for five years, you planned and executed the murders of ten fully armed Mafia soldiers?" My fingers tapped lightly on the table, a faint smile playing on my lips. "That's right." "Being in a vegetative state only means I couldn't move." "Who ever told you that killing, something so crude, required me to get my hands dirty?"

I stand before the pack members, condemned by whispers and stares that cut deeper than any blade. Branded a killer, but I am no murderer. Yet, their accusations cling to me like a shroud, suffocating every shred of hope within me. “I’ll never reject you, Ivanna, but I’ll make your life hell.” His words echo throughout the hall. A cruel reminder of the torment that awaits me. “I’ll forever punish you for what you did to me and the pack.” My mate’s voice, once a source of strength, now drips with venomous hatred. “You’ll remain as my mate, and I’ll remain your nightmare.” “I didn’t kill her!” I protest, but he sees only a liar, a traitor to the pack. His fist hits my cheek, a brutal punishment for crimes I did not commit. “Liar!” He barks. “You killed her. And I’ll do the same to you. Slowly. Painfully. Until you’re choking on your last breath and desperately ready to tell the truth. That you killed her.” —---------------------------------------------------- When the Luna mysteriously dies before my eyes, everyone tags me as her killer. I go through hell and back. My life becomes an endless circle of misery. But I won’t break. I won’t give in to my abusers, no matter how brutally they try to break my soul. I’m determined to fight till the end. Until I’ve proven to them that I’m not the Luna’s Killer.

On our wedding anniversary, I canceled all my meetings and made a reservation at a restaurant. That evening, my wife, the renowned investigative journalist Amaya Shaw, called me. “Efim, I’m sorry! I just received a tip from a source. It’s urgent. “It involves inside information about a well-known company. I have to go verify it immediately!” But the next day, I saw that Javor Furey, the junior she had brought along, had posted a collage on his social media. The central photo showed Amaya wearing a childish birthday hat. Her head was pressed against Javor’s, as they made a wish together in front of a cake covered in candles. This was the caption. [Thanks, my dear Ms. Shaw! Even in the midst of her busy schedule chasing big stories, she remembered to give me this surprise birthday!] [Chasing big stories.] I stared at those three words. Then, I glanced at the limited-edition bag on our dining table. It was the one she had been raving about for half a year. It was the anniversary gift I had prepared for her. I felt absurd. I commented just two words under that post. [How touching.] Her call came in almost the second I hit send. She sounded furious. “Efim, do you have to be so sarcastic? “It’s just an anniversary. How old are you? Why are you still celebrating such childish anniversaries?” From our first year of marriage to the present, her “tip-offs from informants” and “special circumstances” always took precedence over our promises. This time, she could not even be bothered to come up with a plausible excuse. I did not say anything. I hung up and blocked her number. This marriage was over.

I was eight months pregnant when my water broke—the same day as the birthday of my husband’s adopted son. To keep my child from being born on the same day as his adopted son, he forced me to wait until after midnight. He refused to take me to the hospital and locked me in the basement. Adrian Shaw looked down at me. His eyes were dark and hostile. “Elena, you're really good at picking the timing, huh? Of all days, you had to go into labor on Evan’s birthday.” I begged him to take me to the hospital. A trace of disappointment flashed across his eyes, and his voice turned cold. “You’re still trying to lie to me? I asked a doctor. Even if your water breaks, you don’t give birth right away. Some women don’t deliver for three days. “All this scheming is just to secure your position as Mrs. Shaw, so your child can compete with Evan for his birthday and his place. You've really thought this through.” I took a deep breath as despair washed over me. “The baby I’m carrying is yours too! Adrian, I’m begging you. Please, for the child’s sake, save her. As long as the baby is safe, I promise I’ll never show up in front of you again.” His expression darkened. He bent down, grabbed my chin, and replied harshly, “Don’t play games with me. “As long as you stay here quietly until after midnight, I’ll take you to the hospital. Once the baby’s born, you can finally use the child to secure your place and truly marry into the Shaw family.” Later, when my contractions grew unbearable and I cried out in pain, he found me too noisy and took Evan and his mother out to celebrate instead. By the time he remembered me and asked whether I had a boy or a girl, his secretary’s face paled. “Mrs. Shaw is… gone.”