Nicely Written Novelas e Histórias

I buried him myself. I stood at his grave with dirt on my hands and grief in my throat as I said goodbye to the only man I ever thought I would love. Kael was my betrothed, my mate, the boy who grew up beside me and became the person I built every future around. When the war took him it did not just take him — it took every version of myself that existed because of him. Years passed. The moon goddess, in her mercy, gave me something I never asked for — a second chance. Rowan was not supposed to happen. He was patient where I was resistant, steady where I was broken, and present in every way I had convinced myself no one would ever be again. I did not want to love him. And then I did not know how to stop. I was finally learning what it meant to choose life again. When Kael walked back through my door. Alive. Unchanged. And completely unable to explain where he had been. Now I am torn between a love that was written into my soul before I was old enough to understand what souls were, and a man who chose me quietly and completely when I had nothing left to offer. The elders say this is not a reverse harem blessing. There is no keeping both. I have to choose. But how do you bury someone you love twice?

By day, Don Pope is the untouchable king of Cross City’s financial empire. By night, he is something far darker—an infamous mafia don whose enemies vanish before dawn. Ethan Cole never intended to cross paths with a monster like him. One quiet night drive across the city turns into a nightmare when Ethan is kidnapped by masked men and thrown into an underground cage beneath the most luxurious mansion in Cross City—Don Pope’s estate. When the Don himself descends to inspect the prisoners his men captured, something unexpected happens. The moment Don Pope looks into Ethan’s eyes, he stops walking. He was supposed to pass the cage. Instead, he orders the others released… except for Ethan. What begins as cruel possession soon spirals into something neither of them expected. Don becomes obsessed with the fiery captive who refuses to bow to him. Ethan swears he would rather die than submit to the ruthless mafia lord. But obsession is a dangerous thing. What starts with violence slowly becomes dependence. Hatred becomes something far more complicated. And in a city built on betrayal, blood, and power, the line between captor and lover begins to blur. As war erupts between rival mafia families and secrets about Ethan’s past begin to surface, Don Pope must choose between his empire and the one man who refuses to belong to him. Because some loves are not meant to exist, but some destinies are written in the blood.

When I open my eyes again, I notice that I'm lying on the bed of my archnemesis, Ashton Ford. Ashton calmly puts on his clothes before tossing a card at me, telling me to get out. He then looks at the caretaker stationed by the door and asks helplessly, "Is Sunny still throwing a tantrum? Tell her that we're going to be engaged soon. She can't leave women in my bed just because she's angry." I'm about to say something when a stream of comments appears before my eyes. "Here comes another one hoping to sleep her way into a prestigious position. Mr. Ford only loves Sunny. If she didn't comfort him, he might have taken his own life after what happened to Elizabeth a long time ago." "Can the author stop trying to force these flings onto him? It wasn't easy for Sunny to achieve success after taking over as the female lead. I want to see them live a sweet married life." "Unless Mr. Ford's dead first love, Elizabeth Miller, comes back to life, no one can possibly touch Sunny's position in Mr. Ford's heart." Confusion is written all over my face. I'm Elizabeth Miller. Since when did I become Ashton's first love?

My boyfriend's childhood friend declared herself the ultimate 'socialite fraud buster' the very first time we met. She would not stop lecturing me at the dinner table. "Women really shouldn't overdress. If Sean hadn't told me himself that you were his girlfriend, I would've written you off as just another one of those fake socialites I've exposed." My boyfriend nodded along eagerly. "You really do dress too flashy. Just listen to Gina and tone it down a little." I could not be bothered to engage, so I excused myself to the restroom, but I ended up overhearing Georgina Lawson's little 'fraud assessment' from right outside the door. "Sean, this woman's walk, the way she talks… All of it screams training. She's a classic case of a fake socialite. She's only with you for your money! That watch, the limited-edition bag, that sports car worth tens of millions... What doctor could possibly afford all that?" Fury burned through me, and I finally reached my limit. I turned around and called my father, the richest man in the city. "Dad, wire me 50 million dollars. I'm buying out a little fraud-busting studio that targets 'fake socialities' to teach her that rich people have children too!"

"This is a notice regarding proper use of the air conditioning. Please sign to acknowledge receipt." My six-year-old son stood there with a stern little frown, slapping a sheet of paper down in front of me. I glanced at the page. Written in colorful marker were several neatly listed "charges." The whole thing felt absurd. When I did not respond, he pointed at the paper like a tiny adult. "Mom, you didn't turn the air down in time yesterday. That could've affected my health. It was very irresponsible." I looked toward my husband, who had just gotten home from work, hoping he would say something, anything, in my defense. Instead, he snatched up the paper and slapped it down on the table, his voice sharp. "Can't you be more attentive? Our son's health comes first. If you can't even handle something this simple, what kind of mother are you?" With someone backing him up, our son's eyes immediately reddened. He burst into tears. "Mom doesn't love me!" The two of them, playing judge and jury, left me suddenly breathless. "Fine," I said at last. "If I'm such an unfit mother, I'll leave. Let your father find you a new one, someone who knows how to set the air conditioning properly."

King Lincoln was just a young man of 28, but he had the strength of a thousand men. His name had been written in the book of records as the youngest ruler of the Most Powerful Kingdom. His Kingdom was the envy of all the 11 Kingdoms. But One day, one of Lincoln's numerous enemies almost won over him. His attack had almost worked as he was able to hit Lincoln with an extremely poisoned arrow during a war. Lincoln didn't die at the battlefield, no. But when he was taken back to the palace, they got to see how badly injured he was. The arrow was poisoned with a rare substance and it's effect was draining the life out of Lincoln - bit by bit. Physicians tried all they could, but couldn't find a cure. His sister was worried, his three brides were paranoid as well. Everyone wanted a solution for their King because the fall of Lincoln would be the fall of the Kingdom. Finally, his sister found a solution. There was a healer - a young lady with special healing abilities who was likely to heal the King. But she was someone that was locked up and restricted from associating with outsiders by her father. Roseline was never permitted to go out for reasons best known to her father and she wondered why. Lincoln's sister was overly worried about her brother's life and figured she had to get the healer by all means to heal her brother. But would that be possible since Roseline's father particularly hated the King? And even if it was possible, there was going to be a little consequence if Roseline succeeded in healing the King. He'd become a sex addict; addicted to her alone.

When I stepped aside and handed the starting spot on the esports team to the guy Zara Moody had always loved, she saw how obedient I had been and moved our wedding up as a reward. But at the ceremony, the man she could never forget suddenly pulled out a knife and cut himself, jealousy burning in his eyes. "Please don't marry him!" Zara, who was usually so calm, instantly lost her composure. She turned to me, panic written all over her face as she begged me to help save him. Every guest in the room was watching, waiting to see how I would react. I didn't argue or cause a scene. Instead, I quietly stepped aside and gave up the groom's place. When Zara saw how reasonable I was, just like always, her eyes reddened at the corners. "I promise this is the last time I'll ever put you through something like this. After the ceremony, we'll go register our marriage." What she forgot was that this was the 96th time she had hurt me. And I had no intention of spending the rest of my life with her. I was only waiting for three more promises. Once I repaid the debt I owed her for saving my grandmother's life all those years ago, I would walk away from her for good. After that, we would never see each other again.

I always knew that I had to rule. It was written in my blood, as well as my father’s. And my great grandfather. For centuries, my family has been responsible for the monarchy of vampires. Our powers allowed us to drink human blood and then eliminate that memory. In fact, at the time of biting them, we could see some memories of that human. The most relevant of their life. Humans would only wake up the next day in their bed, with a mosquito bite on their neck, not remembering and without even suspecting anything. Although of course, exceptions existed. Wolves had their mates, the sorcerers their connections, and even the sirens had their other half. We were not different, not at all. For each existing vampire, there was a special blood. The donor with only a drop of blood that could keep us active and strong for weeks. In most cases, those people became a couple of vampires. However, not in my family. The lineage should remain pure, so even if I managed to find my donor, as we used to call them, I could only keep it as a lover. Did I want to be a monarch vampire? Of course not. Did I have another option? Of course not. I should not worry about getting my donor, because the statistics of finding them were so small, that even some vampires believed that it was a myth. The only way to find that special blood was drinking from it. And it was impossible to try the blood of all the humans of the world. So many didn’t bother looking for it. Me included. However, I did not expect to meet her in a somewhat peculiar situation.

For years, the witches and vampires of Shadowbrooke co-existed secretly, without much incident. Until one winter evening in 2002. Luca Delacroix was on a hunting trip when the monthly court hosted by his clan turned disastrous. What began as a normal night for the residents of the sleepy town ended horribly when fledgelings in blood-lust took Shadowbrooke under siege. It took a small coven of witches, a powerful spell, the Chaos Star and a virgin's blood to end the terror. But in the aftermath, Julian Delacroix, Luca's brother, along with several of their clan members, were eternally bound to the manor's cellar, forsaken to wither and perish from thirst. It's 2022, and Luca's returned to Shadowbrooke after two decades. His sudden reappearance threatens to destabilise the peaceful town again. He'll stop at nothing to get his brother out, and the Youngblood Coven will not hesitate to destroy him. While the witches scramble to get the missing piece of the Star of Chaos, the rune they once used against Luca's clan, he has to fight hard to stay one step ahead of them. But, his plans go awry when he meets and falls in love with Cadence Youngblood, the same woman responsible for his brother's infernal prison. Cadence is everything he shouldn't want, but for her, Luca is willing to take the backlash from his clan and risk her coven's wrath. © 2022 Val Sims. All rights reserved. No part of this novel may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author and publishers.

He vanished the night our child was born. A year later, he came back to take her from me. I never planned to be a mother. I only wanted to help Anthony Powell, a grieving widower desperate to hold onto a piece of his late wife. I agreed to carry his child with no strings. But when I went into labor, he never showed. Not a call. Not a word. Forty-eight hours passed. The hospital couldn’t reach him. And I was forced to make a choice that would change everything—I took that baby home and raised her as my own. For one perfect year, Nori was mine. Then he returned... Soaked in rain and regret, Anthony stood at my door with a story about a car crash and a coma. He said he never abandoned us. And then he demanded custody of the daughter I’d loved every day since her first breath. I lost everything when the courts sided with him and demanded I hand my baby over. But then...his lawyer came to me with an unthinkable offer: move into his home... and become Nori’s nanny. I said yes, but on my terms. If this “arrangement” fell apart, I wanted joint custody written in stone. Now I’m living under his roof, seeing glimpses of the man he used to be—the kind, broken soul who once only wanted a chance at fatherhood. But I can’t forget his cruelty and what he took from me. And the worst part? I think I’m falling for him all over again.