My Murder Book Novels & Stories

Murdered, with a note pinned to his body: "This is what happens when unfit alphas make weak choices." Hope stares at the body, at the note, at the life stolen because she decided to welcome refugees. "This is my fault," she whispers. "No." Connor grips her shoulders. "This is the murderer's fault. Don't let them make you responsible for their evil." But Hope can't shake the guilt. She opened the territory. She invited this wolf to Crimson Hollow. She got him killed. The investigation reveals the murderer is a pack member—one of the elders who voted against Hope. He confesses to wanting to prove that refugees are dangerous, that Hope's policies threaten the pack.

I wanted truth, not comfort. The Goddess answered. I woke again, aware, and holding the weight of what I had seen. My second life was not a blessing. It was a reset, a chance to walk the same path with open eyes. The world thought I returned as the quiet girl they expected me to be. They didn’t know I remembered every conversation they tried to hide. They didn’t know I carried the knowledge of my own murder. And this time, I wasn’t going to die quietly. This time, the one who poisoned me would face me while I still breathed.

My mother, Samantha, believed I was born a liar. Because she was deceived by my father's sweet words in her youth and abandoned after giving birth to me and my sister, Mia, she harbored a deep, bitter hatred for lies. She begged a witch for two magic rings. The rule was simple: if the wearer lied, the ring would glow red and burn them with magic. Mia's ring never hurt her, even when she broke a vase and blamed it on me. But if I simply said, "I'm thirsty," my ring would sear my flesh until I screamed. At first, I tried to defend myself, but Mom would just say, "The ring doesn't lie. Only through repeated punishment can your wicked soul be cleansed." After thousands of burns, even I started t

My hands shake slightly as I unfold it, smoothing out the creases. The headline hits me like a freight train, bold black letters that seem to pulse with their own dark energy: "MAN MURDERED BY TEEN IN LATE-NIGHT ATTACK — AUTHORITIES SUSPECT SELF-DEFENSE"

"You said 'past life'? Are you reborn too?" "Yes. I've been reborn." Mikhail turned to face me, his eyes unwavering. "In the past life, Sophia killed herself not long after our marriage. The world believed I had abused her. But the truth is, she found my room filled with your photos and ended her life out of shame and rage. "I've loved you across two lifetimes, Emma. This time, I won't let the chance slip away." Outside the window, snow fell in soft sheets, blanketing Droskav in a white blanket.

His finger slid down to my chest, and my stomach twisted with a sensation I hated myself for feeling. “And I have every right to touch you, my little angel.” Anger exploded in my chest, sharp and reckless. “You think sparing me gives you ownership?” A low chuckle escaped my lips, bitter and dangerous. “This is the fantasy I’ve always dreamed of. And you…” I leaned in, close enough to feel his breath, “You’re the fantasy I’ve always plotted. You didn’t kill me that night because you saw my book, you saw reasons to spare me inside that book.” I whispered, "And since then, I’ve been inside your head.”

I paused, swallowing at the stunned expression marking Ace's face, "if he kills himself they can't pin the murder on you. It just needs to look believable." ***Author's Note: Please read book 1: Gunnar first! Just in case you haven't. It's easier to understand this book if you read that first!

There is no rhyme or reason to such an act. ‘People do strange things in the heat of the moment, sir.’ ‘Don’t I know that already Navpreet ...’ said the inspector thoughtfully. He crossed his legs and took a deep breath. ‘Twenty-six years since I joined the police force, there is very little left for me to see. And one thing I have learnt – murder is an amateur’s crime. Of course, I am talking about the regular cases, not serial killers or gangsters. Murderers, they are ordinary people like you and me ... with just one difference. Their common sense has been trumped by their desire for love, freedom, money or power. It is usually one of these. And suddenly, they see a shortcut, a shorter rou

She was slightly taller, her skin looked more tanned, and her eyes that were previously light hazel but now, I couldn’t even place the color. Her features seemed enhanced. She sat beside me and handed me something, I looked to see that she handed me a book. I squealed in delight. Finally! Something to distract me!! I can’t keep thinking about murderers and mythical creatures! I’ve even forgotten that I’m human, at this point. I slid my palm across the smooth cover of the book and admired the cover. On the cover, read “To kill a mockingbird.” After studying the cover and tossing the book up and down, I smiled and looked up to speak to Eve when I caught her staring at me with a strange express

That man was none other than Q. But what really made my blood run cold was the fact that I had been targeted years in advance, all in preparation for the murder of a woman later on. The problem was, I didn't know Q at all. "What's in the diary?" Amber asked, her eyes fixed on my pale face. "Nothing much. Someone named Q came up, but I'm not sure if it's the same man who coerced Isla." "Could he have coerced Kaylee as well?" I shook my head. "No. He's spent years manipulating her into becoming a murderer."