Rosalina Plush Novels & Stories

Nineteen-year-old virgin Monalisa always believed she was broken—frigid and untouched by any man’s desire—until she moves back into her late mother’s luxurious mansion after a tragic death. There, she discovers overwhelming, shameful lust for her ruthless 49-year-old werewolf billionaire stepfather, Damien Voss. The powerful Alpha who demands she call him “Daddy” while he systematically corrupts her innocent body, claims her as his submissive mate, and drags her into a world of bloody pack wars, savage knotting, and total surrender. As bodies pile up and her old life dissolves, Monalisa must confront whether her future holds anything beyond endless filthy pleasure and violence… or if this dark, consuming bond is exactly what she was born for. Characterization Female Lead – Monalisa Physical: 19, petite but extremely curvy (heavy breasts, wide hips, thick thighs, plush ass). Personality: Initially naive, shy, and insecure. Believed she was “broken” because no man could arouse her. Gradually transforms into a desperately submissive, cock-addicted mate while retaining inner conflict about morality and her lost future. Arc: From reluctant virgin to willing bloody little mate. Deep reflections on whether her life will be reduced to endless sex and violence. Male Lead – Damien Voss Physical: 49 (appears mid-30s due to werewolf genes), 6'5", muscular silver-fox, scarred from battles. Personality: Cold, commanding, ruthless Alpha CEO. Deeply obsessive and possessive. Masterful gaslighter who justifies violence and corruption as “destiny.” Arc: From restrained obsession to fully unleashed feral dominance as he claims his stepdaughter. Supporting Characters Late mother: Antagonist in flashbacks (portrayed as jealous/sabotaging via Damien’s gaslighting). Rivals (Viktor of Silverfang Clan, various scouts/Betas): Fuel the bloody conflicts. Marcus (traitor Beta): Early catalyst for violence.

Wealthy and beautiful Angela thinks no one will ever know about her dark, terrible past. Being thrown out by her stepdad and having no place to go, she is forced to do things for survival. "After developing an application that made her rich, she becomes a popular figure; of course, everyone wants a piece of the pie, even the person who hates you the most. "Angela never for a moment thought someone would threaten to expose her. Now she's being given the alternative. You will do as I say or pay the price. Angela has to find the blackmailer and deal with him by whatever means. Run Angela screamed Jessica as Angela sprinted through the woods with wind bustling through the branches of the trees, making the leaves howl in their symphony. Two natural forces are both in harmony and constantly fighting. The rain would come down any second; its distinct smell filled the air. Plush, intertwining clouds pushed their grey front toward where I stood. Angela stopped by the edge of the river; she placed a hand on her chest, her heart wouldn't stop raging against her rib cage, and she fought to keep silent a small whimper. Her heart was so loud she feared it would give her away; it was so loud in her ears; she thought the creature that used to be someone she once trusted would hear it and tear it from her. "Who is there? She screamed, looking back, hearing footsteps getting closer. Until she stopped and looked back, there stood a man with a mask, holding a knife; who was this person? Being diagnosed with anterograde amnesia made her unable to create new memories; her past kept haunting her. is it the same person who is always killing her in her dreams?

When I went to pick Diana Grant up, she just tossed the car keys toward me. Dangling from the silver ring was a plush white bear pendant. I paused, knowing that she had never kept a keychain or a decorative charm on her keys. Once I slid into the driver's seat, the entire alignment felt off. The seat had clearly been adjusted. "Did you let someone else drive your car?" I asked, keeping my voice casual. Dazed from the alcohol, she offered a dismissive shrug. "Yeah. I lent it to an employee for a quick business trip." I didn't press further. The next morning, the chime of the doorbell broke the silence of the house. When I pulled the door open, a shy, clean-cut young guy was standing on the porch. He blinked, then forced a sheepish smile and handed over a cup of coffee. "Hi," he stammered. "I'm just here to drop off a fresh coffee for Ms. Grant." But my attention wasn't on the coffee. My gaze dropped to his left hand. Twirling lazily around his index finger was a set of keys, and swinging from the metal loop was the same white bear pendant. I took the coffee cup from his hand and quietly closed the door. In the room, Diana's phone lit up on the table. A new notification flashed across the lock screen. It was a message that read: [Diana, I just met your husband. He looks kind of scary. Coffee was delivered safely anyway. Try to drink less alcohol next time, okay?] I picked up the phone and pulled up the video camera. With the recording running, I held the coffee cup over the kitchen sink and slowly poured the warm liquid down the drain. Then I uploaded the recorded video to Diana's social media, broadcasting it to her entire social circle. The caption read: [Thanks for the concern, but she doesn't drink coffee.]

I've always been frail by nature. Taking two consecutive steps can make me gasp for air. If I cough, there's a chance there's blood accompanying it. When I'm seven years old, a homeless man in Bronzeton tries to snatch a half-eaten piece of bread from me. I lie on the ground as I convulse like a dying fish with foam gathering at my mouth. My eyes have rolled to the back of my head as well, as though my seizure is acting up. Thinking that I've gotten infected with some sort of disease, the homeless man is so frightened that he flees from Novarra overnight. When I'm ten years old, a delinquent tries to demand protection money from me. I react by spitting dark blood at his face. The poor guy screams at the top of his lungs as he runs down the street, only to get mistaken as a murderer by a police officer who happens to pass by the area. Since then, everyone avoids me like plague on the street. They aren't scared of me—they are terrified that they might get into trouble because of me. No one knows who my parents are. I've grown up in a rundown motel, and my adoptive mother is a stripper who used to be famous. Whenever she gets drunk, she often tells me, "Your father is a mafia Don." I've always thought that she's just running her mouth purely out of drunkenness. That is, until a black limo stops in front of me on the year I turn 18 years old. Three men clad in black suits get out of the limo. The leader sinks down on one knee right in front of me, his voice quivering as he speaks. "We finally found you, Ms. Salvatore. Your father is Vittorio Salvatore, the Don of one of the biggest mafia families in Novarra." At first, I think this is just a scamming scheme. That is, until I'm taken to the estate located on Lacreth Isle that's six acres wide and sports iron gates with the Salvatore insignia carved into them. On my first day home, the fake heiress, Serena Salvatore, purposefully releases the fearsome family dog in the estate just to intimidate me. That dog keeps barking at me, frightening me to the point that I spit out blood on the spot before collapsing to the ground. My mother, Rosalina Vitelli, almost loses her mind over my collapse. But my older brother, Marco Salvatore, shouts at me angrily instead. "Why are you playing dead? You made Serena cry because of your antics!" His voice is so loud that I feel as though my eardrums are going to burst anytime soon. Even my heart feels as though an invisible hand is gripping it tightly. My eyes roll to the back of my head instantly as my body crashes on the spot. Mamma flies into a rampage and almost beats Marco to death for scaring me. Having witnessed everything, Serena kicks up a fuss by attempting to commit suicide at the estate's clock tower just so she can apologize to me. In order to prove his love to Serena, my fiance, Luca Moretti, drags me forcibly to the top of the clock tower so that Serena can do whatever she wants to me. The thing is, the winds are strong on the top of the clock tower. That's when I accidentally slip and topple over the railing. My parents, who are looking everywhere for me, happen to be around the clock tower when I crash onto the spot near them. This time, my bruised and broken body is completely drenched in blood. Shell-shocked, they remain rooted to the spot as they stare at me in bewilderment. Then, they let out blood-curdling screams.