Ruddy Skin Novels & Stories

Before the day of my husband's succession as the Don, my stepsister personally tattooed the "Inverted Angel's Eye"—the mark of a traitor—onto my back. My husband didn't just turn a blind eye; when the family vendetta broke out, he withdrew all the elite guards to protect my "pregnant" stepsister, leaving me alone in a defenseless city to face the slaughter.  "Elena, you are strong enough to protect yourself. But Sophia is fragile, and she is carrying my firstborn. She needs the protection more than you." Facing a siege of heavy firepower, I survived by the skin of my teeth. He thought I would swallow the insult for the sake of the family's reputation. He didn't expect that I would kick open the doors of his coronation ceremony wearing mourning weeds, flanked by the FBI and the Commission, and personally strip him of his title. "Goodbye, Lorenzo. This time, I choose to be the Don."

A single betrayal brings down a feared drug empire… When secrets leak from inside a ruthless cartel, a loyal man is framed, drugged, and executed for treason he never committed. His bloodline is erased in fire, all except one girl. She is taken alive, stripped of her name, and forced into the home of her enemy where she becomes a slave in the house of the devil himself; Luciano Cortez, heir to an empire built on lies and blood. Cold. Merciless, until the quiet girl he owns crawls beneath his skin and one forbidden night binds them in ways neither can escape. Desire turns to trust. Trust turns to love, and buried truths find their way back to the surface. The real traitor was never dead. He was closer than anyone dared to suspect. Now the daughter of a murdered man stands at the crossroads of fate. Will she burn the empire from within… or rise as its queen and rule it in fire and blood?

"I'll hate to spoil your makeup." He brushed my hair aside to kiss the delicate skin on my neck. He was my husband, and he was trying to seduce me. A man my father forced me to marry so he could form a political alliance, and also gain access to this enemy family for revenge through me. My name is Racheal, the only legitimate child of one of the world's most influential presidents. As the president's daughter, you would think my life was perfect, but it wasn't.   Since my mother’s untimely death, my step-mother has maltreated and tortured me relentlessly. My boyfriend betrayed me, and then my father sold me off to be married to a man I did not know, a complete stranger, the billionaire son of a rival president.  Now I am forced to make a decision, continue with my father's revenge plan, or let myself fall for my new husband’s seductions?

Five years into my marriage to Dante Moretti, the Don of the Chicago Outfit, the entire underworld knew he loved me more than life itself. He’d had a violin—for me—tattooed right next to his family crest, a symbol of loyalty that could never be erased. Until I got the photo from his mistress. A cocktail waitress, sprawled naked in his arms, her skin marred by the dark bruises of rough sex. She had scrawled her name right next to the violin he’d gotten for me. And my husband had let her. "Dante says only being inside me makes him feel like a man anymore. You can’t even get him hard anymore, can you, sweet Alessia? Maybe it’s time to step aside." I didn't reply. I just made a single call. “I need a new identity. And a plane ticket out.”

It was supposed to be the perfect revenge. Just one night and then it would all be over. An eye for an eye, a betrayal for a betrayal. But the second his fingers touch my skin, it awakened something inside me…something that I shouldn’t be feeling for a man who was supposed to be off-limits. But why couldn’t I be the selfish one for once? Why couldn’t I steal him away, when my sister had done the same to me? But the more I taste him, the more I drown in this endless black hole of debauchery and desire...until I can no longer tell where he begins and where I end. The deeper I get, the harder it is for me to let go…to end this cycle of transgression that should’ve been just for one night. I might have tainted my soul, drowned in a sea of sin…but I wouldn’t be the only one going to hell. I know that when I fall, he’ll be right beside me.

I stay on my knees waiting for him to tell me the reason why he came here and sent Jill away, trying my best to not look at his torso,wolves have heightened hearing I'm sure he could hear the violent beating of my heart and the intoxicating scent didn't make things better all I wanted was to lean into his touch. He wrapped his hand around my waist making me sit on the edge of the stone just his touch alone was making my skin buzz. "Ain't you ashamed of being out here, soaked to the bone and everything on display? Is this for Mark ,are you trying to seduce him?". I looked at him puzzled before what he said hit me " And if I am, what's that got to do with you Alpha?" I snap. I could see his eyes darken and his jaw tick .

“Cursed child. Bad omen. The Alpha’s doomed bride.” That’s what they called me since the night I was born under the blood moon. ****** Desdemona is a cursed child right from birth, her skin marked by the moon itself. In a society where humans despise werewolves, Desdemona carries the cruel fate of being bound to one. Hated. Mocked. Even her own parents look at her with disgust, showering love only on her perfect sister while treating her as nothing but a burden. But curses don’t break easily. And her destiny waits in the shadows — the day she becomes the Alpha’s Cursed Bride. When she is forced to marry Alpha Alaric. Sold out by her own people, betrayed by her family, she must now survive in a pack of wolves where every whisper and glance could mean death. And the prophecy hangs over her, will she live, or will the curse claim her first?

"One wish,” whispered Rica. “A love that will last forever.” Rica jumped out of her bed when she saw a man lying in the bed next to her. She stared at him, fascinated by his handsome face. He had an attractive aquiline nose which complemented his projecting cheekbones and alluring lips. His black glistening hair was coiffed to perfection. She closed her eyes. “This is just a dream,” she told herself pinching her own skin to wake herself up. “This is not a dream and I am your husband.” Her eyes widened as she stared at the manly figure standing in front of her. His perfect amber-colored eyes met hers. She opened her mouth, trying to speak, but no words came out. She was so confused. Yesterday, her boyfriend broke up with her, and now a stranger has appeared claiming they were married to each other. Is he the one she has been waiting for? A love that will last forever?

"Why are you here, Aaron?" The question was charged with the need to really uncover the truth. "Because," he said, his breath hot against my skin, "there's justice in redemption, and you, Roanne, seek for justice in the wrong place." Before I could process the weight of his words, his mouth was on mine, a kiss that stole the air from my lungs and branded me with a hunger I'd fought to forget. It was possession, it was power—it was a battle I wasn't sure I wanted to win. - Roanne is a sophomore who is seduced into a secret campus revenge society by new "friends" promising justice against elite misdeeds, but becomes entangled in an intricate web of romantic obsession, family empires, high society deceit and dangerous underground power plays. The most dangerous game she plays is to seduce her ex’s best friend, but what happens when he becomes the hunter and not the prey? The Revenge Club is created by Amelie Bergen, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

I was the ultimate pick-me girl at the office, and somehow, I ended up inside a horror game before New Year's Eve. Seeing the bloody lady crawling in the dark elevator, I screamed out loud. "Oh my gosh! Where did you get that lipstick? It's perfect! It makes your skin look three shades lighter!" The bloody lady blinked at me in confusion as I helped her up. She even recommended the exact lipstick shade. Then I turned around and came face-to-face with the chainsaw-psycho general manager with multiple personalities, swinging his weapon around. I tied a little bow on his chainsaw. "Everyone else only cares if your chainsaw is sharp. I'm the only one who cares if you're tired from swinging it all day." The monsters in the room looked at each other, all thinking the same thing… Why did this feel weirdly wholesome?