Stray Dogs Gin Novels & Stories

Sera Ashford is a Null—a walking void where magic and memory go to die. Dogs hate her. Spells slide off her skin. And the supernatural world would kill to own her blood. But Sera doesn't know any of this. She just knows she got fired from her diner job for "creeping out the customers." Then she meets Kael Valerius in a rain-soaked alley. Kael is a Voidborn—the first vampire, cursed for nine hundred years to hear the screams of every life he's ever taken. Witches he burned. Kings he betrayed. A little boy with dark curls who just wants his mother. The voices never stop. They never forgive. And they've been driving him slowly, exquisitely mad. But when Kael touches Sera, the screaming stops. Desperate for silence, he offers her a contract: stand at his side during the Conclave of Thorns—a gathering of every bloodline, coven, and pack with a grudge—and he'll pay her enough to erase her debts. One month. Then freedom. The deal shatters the moment their hands meet. Sera doesn't just silence Kael's curse. She absorbs it. Now the voices scream inside her skull. Ghosts wearing familiar faces crawl out of the walls. And a dead woman named Margot—Kael's former Tether, who clawed out her own eyes—whispers warnings in the dark. Trapped on Kael's estate, bound by a curse that will tear her mind apart if she strays too far, Sera has thirty days to master the deadly politics of immortals, survive the hungry ghosts inside her, and uncover the truth Kael buried with Margot. Because the curse doesn't just collect the dead. It remembers how they loved him. And in a world where regret is a hungry god, Sera might be the only one who can end the feast—or become its next meal.

My best friend, Adeline Miller, and I marry into the Caldwell family together. Coincidentally, we become pregnant at the same time. I'm married to Rowan Caldwell, the older brother who's a famous psychiatrist. As for Adeline, she's married to Elliot Caldwell, the younger brother who's an extremely skilled doctor. Rowan gives me a ride to the hospital, hoping to accompany me to my prenatal check-up due to the discomfort I've been feeling throughout my pregnancy. But on the way there, he abandons me by the road and leaves me there because of a phone call from his first love, Veronica Whitmore. As I sob, I beg him, "Please, Rowan, I'm begging you! It's raining heavily right now! Can you please drive me to the hospital first?" Rowan shakes my hand off impatiently. "Veronica has slit her wrist! This means she might die! Can you be more understanding toward her situation, Emilia? I'm going to tend to her injury right now! You can go to the hospital on your own!" It's raining cats and dogs out in the world. Yet, Rowan doesn't hesitate to ditch me on the highway. Left without a choice, I can only call Adeline and ask her to drive over to pick me up. Unexpectedly, on the way to the hospital, we see a truck barreling toward us. While I'm unconscious, I hear Adeline crying while calling Elliot on the phone, only to get reprimanded by him. "Stop messing around, Adeline! Must you come up with all sorts of lies whenever I'm spending time with Veronica?" It's thanks to a passerby's help that an ambulance is called to the crash site. That's how we get to survive afterward. Alas, we both end up losing our babies. Upon regaining our consciousness, we just smile bitterly at each other. "Are you getting a divorce?" "Yeah."

I'm born with a curse, so I never speak another word since I'm old enough to be understanding. Since my six-year-old daughter, Jada Westfield, accidentally knocks over my sick older brother, Cain Westfield, my wife, Serena Harlow, sends her to a dog-training facility immediately. Jada has gotten bitten by dogs in the past, so she's extremely terrified of them. I do everything I can to stop Serena from sending Jada there—even resorting to groveling in front of her, my forehead sticky with blood—yet Serena never spares a glance in my direction. Instead, she helps Cain up to his feet and gently pats the dust off his pants. But the moment she speaks up, her voice is glacial and ruthless. "Don't think I can't tell that Jada did this because you've been secretly grooming her to do so. You're an extremely manipulative mute, after all. Your dirty blood courses through Jada's veins as well. If I don't start teaching her a lesson at an early age, she will eventually grow up as a pathetic loser. "I'm sending her to the facility so that she can learn the rules of this world. She will learn that seniority takes precedence over everything. This also serves as a lesson for you to never harm the person you aren't supposed to engage with!" I finally find Jada, who has gotten trapped in a cage filled with a dozen rabid mutts. Her body has already been torn into pieces. I suppress the pain in my heart as I put pieces of Jada together like a jigsaw puzzle. After more than 20 years, I finally utter my first sentence. "Serena Harlow, I want you to pay the price with your blood, and I want you to lose everything you have in life."

Derek, my mate, and I were patrolling the borders of our territory when we triggered a deadly wolfsbane trap. When I opened my eyes again, we were sent back three years earlier, before the marking ceremony had ever taken place. In my previous life, we had lived in the same den for seven years. Yet the entire time, we were like two strangers forced to share the same space. He never marked me, not once, and he certainly never allowed me to breed his pups. Only later did I learn that, from the very beginning, the wolf spirit inside him had recognized only one mate—his delicate, fated partner, Aria. So this time, after being reborn, I decided to give him what he wanted. I severed our mind link on my own and then left his territory without looking back. From that moment on, we went our separate ways. Seven years later, Derek had become the most talked-about Gamma Commander in the Werewolf Alliance. That night, at the pack’s Full Moon banquet, he wrapped an arm around Aria and proudly announced their upcoming mating bond in front of everyone. Seeing me standing alone in a quiet corner, Derek let out a mocking laugh. “Selena, I know that in both lifetimes, you’ve only ever loved me. But you don’t have to keep waiting around for me like some stray dog. Aria and I are destined for each other.” I didn’t even bother looking up. Instead, I casually reached out and took the hand of the blond, blue-eyed pureblood pup standing beside me. The color drained from Derek’s face instantly. He glared at me and questioned, “You swore to the Moon Goddess! You said in this life you’d only ever be my she-wolf and only ever breed my pups!”

The top-tier charity auction in Manhattan is about to begin when my boyfriend’s stepsister spots a pearl necklace she likes. Wanting to buy it as her birthday gift, my boyfriend reserves a bidding seat. But due to a mistake by the organizers, the seat had actually been reserved by someone else before he booked it. An elderly lady dressed plainly says the seat is hers, yet they show no intention of yielding. I force my boyfriend to give the seat back to the woman. But Amy storms out in a fit of anger. That night, gunshots echo through the neighborhood. A stray bullet hits her, and she bleeds out on the spot. He calmly arranges her funeral, yet still keeps his promise and marries me. Soon after, my father dies in what is ruled an accident. On the day of my father’s funeral, he storms into the church with his men. Looking at me kneeling before the coffin, he smiles arrogantly. “Olivia, this is what you owe Amy! If you hadn’t stopped me that day, the seat would’ve been hers! She wouldn’t have run out in anger, and she wouldn’t have been shot! Let me tell you something—your father was killed by me. And now it’s your turn!” Right in front of everyone, he shoots my younger brother—who had been kneeling beside me, begging for mercy—dead with a single bullet. His bodyguards pin me down and drag me out of the church as I watch helplessly, his blood pooling before my father’s coffin. When I open my eyes again, my boyfriend is glaring angrily at the waiter, about to explode. What he doesn’t know is that the plainly dressed old woman in sunglasses is the mother of the current Don of the most powerful Mafia family in New York—the Morretti family. And that Don is famously devoted to his mother.

My husband—one of the top elites of Raventon Street, cold and ruthless to his core—keeps a stray orphan girl he rescued from the slums hidden in an apartment. Rowena Fletcher is clean and fragile, like a newborn creature untouched by the world. And somehow, that innocence softens something in Micah Benson—a man who's spent years clawing his way through the brutal wilderness of capital. He thinks this secret game of his goes unnoticed, but I find out anyway. At the Benson family's charity gala, I smash his favorite antique vase in front of everyone. He doesn't even flinch as he simply signals the bodyguards to clean up the mess and then hands me a divorce agreement. "Sign it, Sabrina. The penthouse in Ashbourne City is yours." I burn the divorce agreement—and that's when he finally shows his true colors. He freezes all my accounts and launches a hostile takeover of my gallery. On the night the storm hits, I get a call from the hospital. My sister, Roberta Slater, has been in a car crash—she needs emergency surgery. In the security footage, he stood there, watching coldly. "Sign the papers, or start planning a funeral." I dropped to my knees and slammed my forehead against the floor, blood trailing down my face as I begged, "Micah, please… don't…" A long, flat beep echoed from the other end of the line, slicing through the sound of rain. Then a voice on the line says, "We did everything we could." However, I have gone back in time—to the day I first found out about Rowena. This time, I no longer cry. Instead, I plan my divorce on my own terms. I call Valebrook Bank that same night and begin preparing for a quiet disappearance. But the moment I truly vanish from his world, Micah loses his mind.

After returning from a three-month business trip, I rushed to meet my fiancé and resolve our dispute over my best friend, Elena. Elena’s ex-husband left her penniless and broken. I offered her my apartment, helped her "find herself" and accompanied her through nights of tequila-soaked sobbing. My fiance, Julian, hated it. Or so he said. "She’s a leech, Clara," he’d snap, watching her try on my designer coats. "She doesn't even know how to make toast without calling for help. Are you her best friend or her maid? People like her don't want to heal; they just want a free ride." She's lost everything, Julian," I argued."Without her, I wouldn't have survived my mother’s death. Please, just be patient for me." I let myself in quietly. The house was still, the air smelling of expensive candles and something else—something sweet and floral that wasn't mine. I walked toward the master suite, expecting to find Julian asleep. Instead, the door was ajar. The wine bottle I had brought to surprise Julian slipped from my hand, leaving me paralyzed for a moment. Elena was draped across my silk sheets. Julian was hovering over her, expertly shucking oysters—my favorite—and feeding them to her with a look of doting, soft-eyed tenderness he hadn't shown me in months. "You're so much better at this than she is," Julian purred. "Because she’s cold, Julian," Elena whispered, brushing a stray hair from his forehead. "She’s all business. She doesn't know how to satisfy men in bed." I stood in the doorway, my whole self trembling, not in cold but in pure rage and disgust. "I hope the oysters are fresh," I said, my voice cutting through the room like a blade.

The next thing she knew was that she was slung on his muscular shoulder. She thrashed her legs, but he carried her as if she weighed no more than a bag of feathers. "Caelum please!" She begged him but he ignored her as he walked through the corridors and into the bedroom. And threw her on the bed. While she was busy recovering her breath, he threw his coat on the floor and started unbuttoning his shirt. "W-what are y-you doing?" she asked. Her face paler than paper. "Exactly what married couples do, love." He said dropping the shirt on the floor, His voice so full of viciousness that she almost choked on them. She dragged herself back on the bed sobbing, "no.." He grabbed her legs and pulled her towards himself. He crawled on top of her. He looked into her terrified eyes and whispered, "You make me do terrible things, my dear Rose." He wiped a stray tear from her chin before grabbing it. "I will bruise your lip and scar your knees and love you too hard.." he brushed his lips on hers, "I will destroy you. And when I leave, You will finally understand why storms are named after humans." ........................... Rosette never had an easy life, and after the death of her mother, when she thought things couldn't get worse, her life started going fully downhill. She was tortured beyond repair in her own house. She could only dream of being loved. She dreamed of getting married and finally breaking free from all these cages, but fate had other plans for her. Her life going totally downhill, turned upside down when she was married to the biggest business tycoon in the city. Will this marriage totally wreck her? Would she ever be able to break free?..

The train to Centraford was about to depart. That was the ride we'd spent our entire life savings—30 thousand bucks—to get a ticket for. I was gripping my mate, Byron Reynolds's, hand tightly, trying to pull him onto the last train to Centraford. This was the chance I'd waited three long years for. Once we entered Centraford, we could rise from being low-tier civilian werewolves to official Silvren Talons workers—registered, salaried, and numbered. If we missed this train, we'd be stuck forever in Sidersville, a chaotic melting pot, never able to enter the heart of the werewolf city-state. But Byron held us back, refusing to leave without Lisa Peters, who was still down by the river, washing her face. In the very last second before the train took off, I had our friends forcibly drag Byron aboard. We made it to Centraford and became Silvren Talons workers. But Lisa missed her chance. She was left behind in Sidersville and became a rogue, a plaything passed around by countless men. A few years later, she was tortured to death. Byron looked fine on the surface. But on the day of our marking ceremony, he drove a silver blade into my stomach, killing the pup growing inside me, and tore out my heart. His eyes burned red as he growled through clenched teeth, "This is all your fault. You're the reason Lisa never made it to Centraford. "She suffered so much before she died. Why do you get to be happy?" After killing me, he chopped my body up and fed it to the stray dogs. Then I opened my eyes—and found myself right back at the train station, before it departed. This time, I'd wait with him for the woman he loved so much. And I'd make him pay for everything he did to me and my pup.

My name is Violet. I was the consigliere to the Leon mafia family in New York, and I wrote the rules of this city’s underworld myself. Yet, the man I had kept by my side for ten years, Drake Leon, was now trampling all over them. Ten years was more than enough time for a stray dog to grow into a wolf that can stand on its own. A decade ago, he was hacked to pieces by enemies on the streets of Brooklyn. Covered in blood, he crawled to me like a dying dog. I took him in. I put a gun in his hand. I taught him the rules of the mafia. Step by step, using my position as the Leon mafia family’s consigliere, I groomed him to become the boss of the Manhattan port district. Ten years later, he controlled the most valuable port under the Leon family for me, and for another woman, he framed her in standing grace. When that girl named Lina showed up pregnant, wearing the blue diamond necklace my mother left me, and sat in the seat that was supposed to be mine, I didn’t lose my temper. Instead, I had someone take the pathology report from the hospital, along with the child, seal them in a gift box, and deliver them to Drake’s new estate. Half an hour later, the study door was kicked open. He stormed in, drenched in night rain, carrying the scent of gunpowder. The barrel of his gun pressed straight against my forehead. “Violet.” He stared at me, his eyes bloodshot. “You touch her child, and I’ll make sure you’re buried with her.” I stayed seated by the fireplace. I didn’t move. I simply pushed a document to the center of the table. “Don’t rush into madness.” I looked up at him and continued, “As of fifteen minutes ago, I’ve frozen three warehouses under your name, two shipping routes, and seven offshore accounts.” Only then did his expression finally change. I smiled faintly, my voice soft. “Drake, you seem to have forgotten something. The reason for your accomplishments today isn’t because you know how to pull a trigger. It’s because I allowed you to live.”