Spell Staring Novels & Stories

The night before our wedding anniversary party, my husband—Harvey Clarke—receives constant calls from his first love, Cassie Moss. He responds by holding me closer, and I ask, "Aren't you going to pick up? What if it's urgent?" He firmly shakes his head and says he has already moved on. But when he receives news of her at the party, he breaks down right there and then, oblivious to the room of staring guests. When he tries to leave, I stop him in a panic, but he turns to me with a pure look of disgust. "Cassie's dead. Happy now?" The words hit me like a lightning bolt.

"Wanna lie on it?" Diam husked, his breath fanning her neck. He'd caught her staring at the bed. Wouldn't be a bad idea if she lies on it. Baby quickly moved away from him. Her cheeks, she knew, were flushed from embarrassment. "Where's my room-Sir Diam?" He closed up the little distance between them. She squirmed at their proximity but it only aroused him more. Her boobs rubbed against his hard chest, tingling all the hairs in the region to life. Her mould was pressed against his thighs. He wound an arm around her waist, pulling her to himself. "Your room...is right here, Baby."

"Are you sure you want this?" The witch slid the vial across the table. "Once I cast the unbinding spell, your Fated Mate connection will dissolve over ten days. On the tenth day, it's permanent. No reversals." I didn't hesitate. "Your name?" She picked up her pen. "Mara Voss." Her hand froze. Everyone in New York's vampire community knew that name. Conrad Levin — the Prince of the New York Dominion, an eight-hundred-year-old monster who had never shown a flicker of attachment to anything — had three years ago announced to the entire supernatural world that he'd found his Fated Mate. A human girl carrying the rarest blood type in existence. Golden blood. Her name was Mara Voss. I held out my wrist. The witch began her work. I opened my phone and booked a one-way ticket to Prague. Departing in exactly ten days. This time, Conrad would never find me.

ACADEMY OF THE DAMNED: BRIDE TO THE ABYSS. When I died, I did not expect to be haunted and chased by a group of people that called themselves the school for the dead. Wait? I died??? I do not think I am dead, but I had a NDE. Unfortunately, that means I belonged to the school of the damned now, a school where supernatural beings like fae, demons and witches attended and guess where it was located. In hell. So when I, Alexandria Nicole Thompson wound up in this school, I was an anomaly. Human. A human never became part of the damned, and the demons made it clear to me that I wasn't welcomed. I had to fight for my life every minute, from being spell bound, to being bitten by a raging vampire with a hard-on for me, and the fallen angel, cold and bitter, angry at everything in the world, yet I was drawn to him, and finally, there was Cassiel, next in line to be herald of a plane, a ruler of demons who hated me with every breath and declared me unwanted from the school. I had to grow a tough hide....or skin

Don’t stray from the path… When Siorin encounters a mysterious black-haired mage in the forest on her way to the local good-witch, she knows better than to stray from the path. Doing so would be inviting trouble from the fairy brethren with whom mankind shares their world. His plight, however, moves her, and she rescues him despite misgivings. Rivyn has cast a destiny spell which he believes brought him Siorin, so he doesn’t hesitate to steal her, well and truly taking her off her path when he does so. The mage irresistibly draws and seduces Siorin as he leads her on an adventure that transverses their world, encountering all manner of brethren, for Rivyn is on quest is to rebuild his power so that he can return to the Fae Court and reclaim what has been stolen from him. But what Rivyn has lost is not what he needs to seek. Will Rivyn choose his power, or his heart?

Jasmina Lesvendstrong's coronation dream shatters when Alpha Damoew Herstrong publicly rejects her, choosing her best friend Arlene as Luna instead. Pregnant and accused of murder when Damoew is found dead, Jasmina faces execution in fourteen days. But Damoew isn't dead—he's under a spell. Arlene isn't who she claims. She's the Witch Queen's daughter, orchestrating revenge that will destroy every werewolf bloodline through the ancient Lycan Vault. With Damoew's supposedly dead mother and a rebellious guard as allies, Jasmina must save her baby, expose Arlene's genocide plan, and break the compulsion magic controlling her mate. The vault demands blood. The spell demands sacrifice. And Jasmina must decide: save the Alpha who rejected her, or let him burn. But letting him burn means killing all werewolves. Meaning no more histories (stories) of werewolves. So come with me let’s help Jasmina make a right choice.’

Working in the Sex Industry isn't always what it's cut out to be. Some find love, like to cause chaos and others just simply try to get away with murder. = Six lives, one book and an endless rollercoaster of fun! = --- Amar lowers our hands, removing the gun from my grasp and he waits for Vanko to re-enter the room, passing him the murder weapon to dispose of. I feel Amar turn away from me and I turn to face him, wrapping my hand around his arm. When he comes to a halt and looks down at my hand, "What now?" I ask him. "You are free to leave." He says as he elevates his gaze to mine, staring me directly in the eyes.

For eighteen years, my wife, Elizabeth Connerty, never once reached out to her first love, Lucas Ryder. She committed herself fully to me and cooked warm meals for me. She attended every parent-teacher conference for our daughter. She carefully planned our family trips year after year. That was how we lived—quietly, steadily, and happily—for eighteen years. But after our daughter celebrated her eighteenth birthday, I turned to Elizabeth and said, "Let's get a divorce." She stood in the doorway of our daughter's bedroom, staring at me in stunned silence. I added calmly, "When our daughter was born, you promised me that once she turned eighteen, we would divorce."

“What was that?” He asked, as he pressed me against the wall, trapping me between them. My gaze fell onto his lips, and an irresistible urge to lean forward and taste them surged within me. He gently tilted my chin upward, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Look me in the eyes and ask again,” he remarked with a smirk, his lips curling seductively. I swallowed nervously, staring at his captivating face. No man should possess such beauty but he did and I could sense the pride exuding from his words. “I was wondering if you were dropped on your head when you were a baby.” 💗💗💗 Warning: Contains mature scenes not suitable for readers under the age of 18.

In the middle of a lively night, can you guess what's about to come? In the middle of the busy street, do you realize there is something in the dump? Shane Hoseinzade was peacefully sleeping on the floor when three conservative, loud knocks echoed inside. Would he open the door? On the other side, someone wearing a black cloak and holding a giant scythe is standing on the doorstep. With head bowed down, a pair of mismatched eyes glowed while staring at the door. Patiently waiting for the target to open the door. If you hear three violent knocks on your door at exactly midnight, would you dare to open the door? But what if those violent knocks are the knocks of the person you promised to marry in the future? Death? A grim reaper? A demon? Whoever it is, are you ready to face your fears?