Nick Goode Fear Street

It was dark times. After centuries of humans and werewolves living in peace, humans had grown to fear their werewolf counterparts. Their fear and hate now spread across all the lands. The humans now used that fear to wage a war. Pack by pack was disappearing. United with her mate, Andraste has become Luna and Queen of the Iceni Pack. Standing next to her lover and King they face this war. But will it end in their victory or their demise?

She had been attacked, raped and left for dead in the street, but the moment she woke up, she discovered she now had the combined experience of two very different people from very different lifetimes in her head, as well as a mysterious mark branded onto her body and power within her blood. Now, follow Nya as she navigates the strange new galaxy she finds herself in, encountering allies and enemies across the stars and amassing wealth, power and status as she aims to be ruler of it all. [P.S. the cover is NOT mine]

Two lives. One obsession.By day, she's a street thief with killer curves and a hidden hunger. By night, she sells her body to the highest bidder.By day, he's a billionaire CEO closing deals. By night, he's the masked mafia king who rules the shadows.She stole his black card. He stole her freedom.But years ago, behind masks in a dark room, their bodies already knew each other scent, scar, birthmark. Now the chase is on. And when the masks fall... neither will escape.

Left to die in the street by her husband and son, Krista survives to discover her marriage was a calculated lie, and the child she sacrificed everything for even hated her. She met a mysterious billionaire who wants her heart. But Krista wants revenge served cold on the runway where she'll destroy everyone who underestimated her. What will she do when she discovers her son was not who she thought he was ? What will she do when her husband comes back for her?

Violet eyes with piercing sight. Mane of gold in pale moonlight. Skin so hard and lily white. Voice so soft, yet filled with might. He comes to me in the dark of night. Flash of teeth, smile so slight. There is no fear, no need to fight. In his embrace, I crave his bite. -S.R. Michele, or Shelly to those closest to her, is a typical 21 yr old, trying to find her way in life. She has good family, a close circle of friends. She's outgoing and friendly, and a bit reckless and impulsive sometimes. And she has certain gifts...when she touches things, she can see into the past, she can feel what was felt by others, and she can sense things before they happen. Ok, so maybe she's not so typical. An impromptu trip to New Orleans, a party on Bourbon Street, and an attempted assault in a dark alley lead her into a world she didn't know existed...but one she's not afraid of. She doesn't know if the violet-eyed stranger that comes to her rescue, and follows her home, is a friend or a foe - and honestly, she doesn't care. Once you've had a taste of the darkness, it's hard to pull away... **** This book was written in the late 1990's - early 2000's, and originally published in 2004, under the title: Diary of a Vampire by S.M. Royston. It was my first book, and it wasn't long until I came to hate it! (Please, don't look it up - I promise you, it's terrible) So here we are, years later, and I've decided to throw out my original work, and re-write it. Because I'm the author, and I can do that. The story, characters, and settings are the same - but the writing style is different, and in my opinion, much, much better. I hope you enjoy it. ****

My whole family only ever loved my younger sister, Carrie Brooks. Carrie had a crush on my fiancé, Josh Beaumont. On my wedding day, my mother pressed a knife to her throat, forcing me to give Josh to Carrie. "The fortune teller said Carrie's illness will get better if she gets married," Mom pleaded. "You're healthy. You'll find someone else." My brother, Nick Jansen chimed in. "Grace, don't be so selfish. Hurry up and take off the dress. Carrie's thinner than you. Make sure you don't stretch it out." Even Josh said, "Carrie doesn't have much time left. But Grace… we still have our whole lives ahead of us." They didn't know. The one who was truly dying… was me.

My five-year-old daughter loved telling lies. I had taken her out to a simple school supplies run, but she yelled on the street that I was a human trafficker. Consequently, I nearly got arrested and taken to the police station. When we went home, she cried and threw herself in my husband’s arms to complain about me before I could say anything. “Dad, Mom wouldn’t buy me stationeries. She even hit me on the street!” I offered my husband an explanation. He heard me out, but I did not expect him to angrily slap me when I was finished. “Our daughter is only five. She can’t lie. Can’t you just put up with it?!” When I drove my daughter to school, she got down on her knees in front of me while the other parents were around. “Mom, please let me go to school. I don’t want to take naked photos for those guys.” When the teacher checked my phone, it was full of my daughter’s explicit photos. A mob of angry parents pushed me into the traffic, killing me. I could not figure out why my biological daughter would behave that way, even as I lay dying. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day when I was about to buy stationery for my daughter.

Fresh from a business trip, my husband swept me into his arms and pulled me toward the bathroom for a passionate shared bath. As our lips met in a dizzying kiss, I noticed something odd out of the corner of my eye: the toilet lid was down. Seven years ago, after reading an online article claiming that men urinating while standing could splash bacteria onto the seat, he insisted we always keep the lid up for hygiene's sake. In all our years of marriage, it had never been lowered until now. A chill ran through me. The bathroom was pristine, not a stray hair in sight. But then I noticed the shower's water temperature was set five degrees higher than the 98.6°F he always preferred. Men preferred cooler water, and women warmer. In an instant, I realized that Nick Doyle had betrayed me.

"Ms. Hall, these are the details of the feigned death service you booked with us. The date of death is set for the wedding, half a month from now. The cause of death will be suicide by drowning, and the deceased is yourself. Please confirm and sign here." Wendy Hall nodded. Without hesitation, she signed her name at the bottom of the document. The bustling street was alive with chatter and movement. As Wendy walked home alone, she glanced up, and there it was—the giant screen on a nearby building, looping a video of Grayson Bryce proposing to her.

“He said he was just helping me rehearse... So why was I moaning his name backstage with his hand under my skirt?” Harriet Avery is the school’s invisible girl: brilliant, overweight, and bitter from years of bullying. But when her name appears as the lead in the school play—thanks to a cruel prank everything changes. Nick Marsh, the cocky captain of the hockey team, unexpectedly offers to help her. Their rehearsals are supposed to be harmless. But heat builds under stage lights. Chemistry simmers behind closed doors. And soon, Harriet is glowing—inside and out. She’s falling. Hard. But the cruelest twist comes after the curtain falls: the entire thing was a dare. Now with her heart broken, Harriet has two choices: fade into the background like she always has… or finally step into her own spotlight and set fire to everything that tried to break her.