Tanya Smith Book Novels & Stories

Suddenly, the heavy library doors slammed open. Tanya didn’t walk in. She moved like a hunting wolf. Her eyes were red from lack of sleep, and her armor was dusty from standing guard all night. She no longer looked like a loyal commander. She looked like someone who had discovered danger inside her own home. “What are you?” she hissed, stopping right in front of me. “Tanya… I’m reading,” I said quietly, trying to stay calm. She reached down and snatched the book from my hands, throwing it across the room.

I sincerely hope you embrace the journey of this captivating tale. While fiction, the essence of Tara Lyle, the main character in this book, mirrors strength as resonant as the very essence of the narrative. I invite you to accompany her until the publication of Tara Lyle Book 2, "At Willete's Mercy," where the saga continues to weave its captivating narrative.

Tanya had seen Sneha but Sneha did not know anything about her. Shivam just called out to Tanya, " Tanya, this coffee has become cold. Make another one.” "Okay," Tanya said irritably. “In a minute, sometimes he wants this and sometimes that, what am I? I am a secretary, I am not their servant. This man has troubled me.” When Tanya came out muttering to herself, her eyes fell on Sneha sitting outside. Seeing Sneha, Tanya's face became more irritable. "This witch was the only thing missing? now this witch has come and sat down, bearing her more and more." Saying this she started picking up the cup.

I said with a smirk as I met his gaze. “How about I take you into the woods and show you how irresistible it is,” Cian said with a smirk. “fuck, that’s tempting,” I murmured as I bit my bottom lip. I glanced around nervously as I considered his offer and yet I couldn’t bring myself to part from the crowd, a life-changing decision was about to be announced and I was meant to be the main topic. I needed to be here when the life-changing words were spoken within the wind, there was nothing I could do at this rate to change the outcome of the hunt, all I could do was hope that the one man I wanted, fought hard enough to win my favour.

Hi, bubble butts. Welcome to The Submission Saga. I’m so excited to write for y'all again. Before we proceed with the chapters, I've got a few things to say. This time, we’re in for a collection of 9 books, 9 lovable and intense characters all inside this Omegaverse series. Truth be told, I’m low-key trembling, but don’t worry… your author will survive. Since this is going to be a long ride, we need to make the journey fun and worth it. Because of that, I’ve come up with a few extra things we might do along the way.

A new book dangling from her hand. Precisely what she was doing. “If you can’t escape on your terms, you’ll find a way around me and my magic? That your newest plan?” “I’m not one to play docile captive.” *** Go ahead and look. Keep busy searching. It’ll take more than a book to outmaneuver me, Little Harpie. You’re not going anywhere. “If you think somewhere in these aisles, I keep my secrets…” He inspected perfectly squared nails thoughtfully. “You’d be right…”

SKYLA My conversation with Tanya played vividly like a rolled tape in my mind, my whole body tingling with exhaustion as I tried to keep my breathing steady. The events of these past few weeks weighing heavily on my slender shoulders, as I tried to make sense of what my life had become. Hot frustrated tears spilled down my face as I stared at the gift Tanya dropped over. The cover of my book that had now become hers glared at me. The pink covers mocking me, taunting. I hurled the books across the room, hitting Ed Square on the head as he made his way in

T-T A/N: Drop a like and share this book if you love it! Thank you all~!

It’s quiet, but not dead—just the soft hum of the building breathing. I’m seated at the community table with a pile of paperbacks beside me, flipping through potential book club picks when the front door chimes. I don’t look up at first. But then I hear her voice. “Aria?” I glance up—and there she is. Tanya. Tired eyes. Ponytail frizzed from the wind. Baby slung against her chest in one of those patterned wrap carriers, all pink cheeks and sleepy fists. Her lips twitch nervously, and beside her stands Sloane, arms folded, expression unreadable.

“There are blankets downstairs. And extra pillows. So you can make yourself comfortable.” “I will. And I plan to borrow a book or two from your interesting collection.” His eyes are on the bookshelf in my room, which is full of romance novels. “T.L. Smith seems to be one of your favorite authors.” “She is. Her books are dark, sexy, and a little fucked-up. Kind of like you,” I tease, lazily rolling over in his arms. “I am so fucking glad you are mine,” he whispers, holding me tight. “I love you, Callie.”