Miles Morales Comics

Tyler, the popular jock with a gentle and friendly demeanor who never fails to brighten Miles' darkest days, helped Miles, the openly gay teenage kid who was the target of bullies and abuse, find comfort. As Tyler offered to assist Miles with his studies, the two realized that they had been genuinely in love for a very long time and soon found themselves dating. Will they be prepared for what is about to happen? Will they battle to keep their union intact, or will they choose to pursue separate lives?

A tall, charcoal-suited individual entered, flanked by two others who were dressed in the same black.They smelled of money—and danger. Too sleek, too polished, too silent. At the center was Grayham Wilson. Everyone knew him. Billionaire CEO. Ruthless. Stunningly handsome in a distant, unforgiving way. Dark, perfectly styled hair, a blade-sharp jawline, and eyes like frozen steel. He didn’t look at anyone. He didn’t have to. He wasn’t here for conversation. He was here for me. One of his men dropped a thick envelope on the counter like it was a bomb. I flinched. “What the hell is this?” I demanded. Silence. Then Grayham stepped forward, his presence like a tidal wave. “Your 24 hours start now.” I blinked. “I’m sorry, what?” --- Miles Kaden lives quietly, fiercely protective of the old building his father once tended. He’s stubborn, grounded, and bound to a place full of history—and secrets. Grayham Wilson is sharp, cold, and disgustingly rich. He builds empires by tearing others down. And now he wants that old building. They were never meant to meet. But one impulsive act changes everything. They wake up in each other’s bodies. What starts as a battle of wills quickly turns into something far more tangled. Because the longer they live each other’s lives, the more blurred the lines become. Two men. One curse. A hundred days to survive it—or risk losing not just their lives, but themselves.

Immediately we walked into the pack house, he pulled me by the arm. "Welcome to hell, Darling." I tried to pull away from him, giving him a piece of my mind now that he had no leverage over my head. "Firstly, stop with the pet name-calling. It doesn't go well with your image." He pulled me closer, we were breathing the same air now as he held my eyes in his icy orbs. "My image? And what just might that be?" I responded with a shaky breath. "You know, arrogant, mean, insufferable." He took a deep breath, his head touching mine."Is that all?" His hand wound around the small of my back. His actions sent a pool of wetness between my legs. I knew he could sense my arousal, anyone for miles could. It was turning into an ocean as he pushed me into him. "Rude, ruthless, evil?" I stated breathlessly, nearly giving in to my desire. "Rude? I've been nothing but polite since we met." His lips were inches from mine. My eyes closed subconsciously as I waited for his lips to meet mine. …….. One curse, two mates, and the end of the world

In Alabama’s rot-soaked bayous, Drucilla Drakes survives by three rules: silence, scars, and never letting Louise—her Bible-thumping captor—catch her hoping. But when a schoolyard ambush leaves her bleeding beneath a stranger’s leather jacket, invisibility becomes a death sentence. Enter Dragon Morales: New Orleans’ most notorious runaway, a cartel prince turned outlaw mechanic with grease-stained hands and a death wish. He doesn’t save people—he survives them. Yet in Dru’s lashed flesh and hellfire gaze, he sees his own shattered reflection. Their bond is gasoline and matches. Dragon’s father—Colombia’s cartel kingpin—hunts them relentlessly. Louise, armed with voodoo rites and the chaos-hungry loa Marinette, vows to break Dru. Their only allies? The Lou Nwa, a bayou biker gang trading in bullets and black magic, and Papa Legba, the crossroads spirit who offers Dru a lethal bargain: *“Her soul or yours.”* Fleeing through the Deep South’s cursed underbelly, they dodge cartel hitmen, haunted swamps, and safehouses reeking of betrayal. Dark magic seeps into old wounds; family secrets tighten like nooses. Dragon swears he’s too ruined to love. Dru knows she’s too shattered to trust. But in the bayou’s choking heat, desire is a grenade they can’t outrun. This isn’t a fairytale. It’s switchblade kisses and saintly curses—a collision of fire and ruin where protectors become predators. Dru doesn’t need saving; she needs an inferno. And Dragon? He’s got a lighter and nothing left to burn. Will they raze the South to ashes, or become the sacrifice the crossroads demands? One truth remains: in the bayou, even survival leaves scars. **Warning:** No princes here. Just bayou smoke, blood-soaked magic, and the kind of love that devours.