Tone Vs Mood Novels & Stories

In the fifth year of my marriage with Luca Salvatore, his older brother, Kendall Salvatore, suddenly passes away. As such, Luca becomes the new Don due to the circumstances. But the Salvatore family has one condition for Luca—he has to sire an heir with Kendall's widow, Cindy Newton, in order to maintain the marriage alliance between both families. I refuse to accept that condition. Luca turns it down firmly as well. He even takes my hand and makes a vow right in front of me. "Xandra, I will never yield to my family. You're the only woman fit to become the Donna of the Salvatore family. Our child can be the only one who inherits my position as the Don in the future." But gradually, he has been staying up late due to family affairs more and more often. There's also unfamiliar perfume clinging to his clothes. But today is the day when my suspicions are finally proven to be true thanks to a video sent by an unknown number. In the video, Luca can be seen accompanying Cindy to a prenatal check-up. As he caresses her baby bump, he says in a tender tone, "You must have suffered a lot, Cindy. Thank you for siring the heir of the Salvatore family." At that moment, I finally realize that Luca has already broken the vow he has made to me. Hence, I burn down our home and leave without hesitation. After all, my dad—the Don of the Caprese family—is already urging me to go home and take over the family as the new Donna.

I agreed to transfer out of Central Wolf Academy with Lucien because he said he was being bullied. Eighteen years old and still unawakened, in an academy obsessed with bloodline purity and dominance, he stood out in all the wrong ways. So he begged me to leave with him—to move to a less demanding school, where lineage mattered less. The day before we were supposed to finalize everything, I went to find him. Outside the door.That was when I heard it. One of his Beta companions drawled, amused. “I’ll give you that, Lucien. Pretending you were being hunted just to get her to leave Central Academy for you.” Another voice hesitated. “You two grew up together. You’re really letting her go like that?” Lucien answered without pause, his tone relaxed, faintly amused. “It’s not even overseas. She’ll be fine.” Then, colder. “She’s clung to me since we were kids. I was getting tired of it. This is… efficient.” I didn’t confront him.I turned and walked away. Back in my room, I reopened the transfer application. I crossed out the name of the ordinary werewolf academy he claimed he needed—and wrote in the one my parents had insisted on years ago. Everyone had forgotten something. I am the sole heir of the Bloodmoon Pack. And Lucien—an illegitimate son tolerated by the Silvercrest Alpha—would never touch the Alpha throne without a formal bond to me. One day, he would realize that what he discarded was not just my devotion.

"I'm sorry, but this flight is overbooked. We're going to compensate you twenty dollars. Please deplane immediately." The head flight attendant had my suitcase in a death grip. Her tone wasn't a request—it was an order. I gave her a cold look, then turned my gaze to the man beside us, who had just been escorted onto the plane, draped in designer labels. "Why does he get to board after showing up late, while I—who paid full price—am being forced off?" She let out a mocking laugh and lowered her voice to taunt me. "Because he's the son of a top-tier medical conglomerate in Scallow City. He's rushing there to beg an elusive miracle doctor—the famous Phantom Surgeon—to save his life. "No matter how urgent your business is, can it really compare to a human life? If you delay Mr. Stafford, ten lives couldn't pay for it. Now get off." Several security guards dragged me off the plane by force as I watched the cabin doors close. I laughed in sheer disbelief. The "Mr. Stafford" she was talking about was William Stafford, and he was terminally ill. What she didn't know was that I was the very "Phantom Surgeon" his entire family had been on their knees begging for three months—pleading with me to fly to Scallow City and perform his surgery today. Since they threw me off the plane, I won't be doing that operation. As for William, he can go ahead and wait for death.

At my engagement dinner with Greg Willis, the Rossi mafia family’s underboss, his assistant, Sydney Carlson, casually tossed a half-eaten cookie on his plate in front of everyone. Greg didn’t react. In full view of the guests, he calmly picked it up and ate it. That night, after we returned, I told him I wanted to call off the engagement. He rubbed his brow with his fingertips, his voice steady in that familiar, composed way of his, yet there was distance beneath it. “All this,” he said, “over a cookie?” “She already took a bite,” I corrected him. He fell silent for a moment before replying in a low voice, “Zoe, you’ve always been sensible. Why get hung up on something so small?” “I’m not hung up,” I said evenly. “I just don’t want to settle.” When he saw that I wouldn’t back down, something complicated flickered in his eyes. Then, his tone hardened, almost like a warning. “Think it through carefully. Don’t you regret it.” He was certain I couldn’t leave him. After all, he was a mafia underboss. There were countless people eager to take the position of Mrs. Willis, and I was nothing more than a minor employee at his company. What he didn’t know was that I had never coveted the title of his wife. All I ever had for him was love. But now, that love was gone, and once I turned away, I would never look back again.

On my wedding day, I got into a car accident and lost the baby I was carrying. My fiancé, Rowan, vanished without a word. All he left behind was a marriage certificate posted in the family group chat, showing that he had married my father’s illegitimate daughter. When I confronted him, he looked completely indifferent. “Tara is sick. She needs your placenta as medicine. I’ll marry you once she’s better.” Everyone thought I would react like I always did. I would be hurt at first before becoming numb and eventually just accepting it. After all, I loved Rowan that much. However, the very night the wedding was called off, I agreed to the marriage my uncle had arranged and left the country. I married my ex-boyfriend’s uncle. Five years later, my husband accompanied me back home to visit my mother’s grave. Something suddenly came up for him, so he asked his useless nephew to host a welcome banquet for me instead. At the entrance of the estate, Rowan stood there holding a sign that read: [Welcome home, Aunt!] The moment he saw me, his gaze burned, but his tone was cold. “So, have you finally come to your senses after all that drama? I’ll give you another chance. Come back to me. Tara doesn’t want to have children. You can do IVF for her.”

George Sunther doesn't show up on the day we're supposed to get engaged. His family is nowhere to be seen either. Mom's and Dad's faces become increasingly darker as our relatives whisper disapprovingly. I'm about to contact George when I see a social media update from Winona Sunther, the Sunther family's adopted daughter. "From today onward, we're siblings and also spouses." A photo of her and George decked out in wedding attire while holding each other close is attached. Later, I find George, and he says guiltily, "Winnie is pregnant out of wedlock, and her boyfriend has made a run for it. I have to marry her first so that her reputation remains untainted. It's all so she can have the baby without any hitches." I'm stunned. The invitations for our wedding have already been sent out! George wraps an arm around my waist, his tone as gentle as always. "I'll marry you once the baby is born, okay? You're the only woman I'll call my wife, Mary. You have to trust me." I look into his eyes, which I had once loved with all my heart. My heart twists painfully. He's always like this. He always tells me I have to be more tolerant and magnanimous when it comes to Winona because she's his sister. I watch as he leaves in a hurry after answering a call from Winona. Then, I stop hesitating and call my parents. "Mom, is the Zowski family still up for a wedding?"

“Reject me!” She begs. “Reject me now!” His eyes are on the pitiful girl who is on her knees, begging for rejection. Her desperate tone makes his heart ache. He will do anything for this woman. Kiss her, love her and kill anyone for her. But reject? “You are stuck with me, my dear,” his silky voice resonates in her ears. His handsome face leans close, his scarlet eyes locked into hers. "You are mine, Roseanne and I will burn down this world if you go away…” In the kingdom of Ezealyra where supernatural creatures rule over the humans, 18 year old Roseanne Vadimovna is a witch and a slave owned by the Lycan Royal Family. Ruled by the ruthless Lycans, Roseanne is forced to do their bidding until one day she was sold off to an auction for lecherous werewolves. And her world turns upside down when he comes to her life. Dmitri Daskov, the Lycan Duke of Sloria. Her master. Her mate. Elusive, sly and manipulative, Dmitri harbors a dangerous obsession for vengeance against his enemies. When his eyes set on Roseanne, he becomes her new master with a purpose in his mind. Scared by her new circumstances, Roseanne finds herself in a new land with no hope of the future. Yet, she finds herself drawn to the dangerous darkness lurking within Dmitri, a darkness which is about to plunge her into the depths of hell. What will happen when she finds out his true intentions? Can she redeem him? Or will she also drown in his darkness? ... Part 2: The Hated Mate (Lycan and his lover 2) is out now!

Seven years I spent with Jason Shaw, but I never got a ring. Rather, all I received was an invitation to another person's wedding. That day, as a wedding planner, I was at the rehearsal, making last-minute adjustments. Looking up, I saw the man whom I waited every day to reply to my messages, walking down the aisle, arm in arm with another bride. "Her boyfriend had something urgent come up, so I'm filling in for him," he said, standing straight, his tone light, a small smile on his lips. But his eyes couldn't hide the hurt, like a child who lost his favorite toy. As if that wasn't enough, he told me to hand over my wedding plan. He patted me on the shoulder, saying sincerely, "There's no rush for us. We've got plenty of time. I promise I'll give you an even better wedding. Just help me out this time. It's not like I'm not going to marry you." He didn't know that I had revised the wedding plan hundreds of times, even counted and recounted the bouquets seven times. To me, it wasn't mere work—it was a dream I held for five long years. I didn't argue anymore, just quietly stepped aside. Later, I lay alone in a hospital bed, listening to the rain tapping against the window from outside. I counted each drop as the hours slipped through my fingers. Perhaps those who worked so hard to create happiness for others had lost the right to their own happiness.

The day I was awarded the highest service medal, I got a call that my grandfather had died. My superiors approved emergency leave, and I rushed straight back to the family estate without stopping. The moment I reached the hillside cemetery behind the house, what I saw snapped something inside me. Our family burial ground had been completely leveled. My parents' graves had been dug open. Their urns had been turned into flower pot bases, with dark-red roses planted right on top of them. My grandfather's coffin had been split apart. His body was left exposed in the dirt, already starting to rot. And my younger brother, Jerry Horton, who was on the autism spectrum, was being ordered around like a laborer by my husband's assistant, Digby Wolfe, hauling construction materials back and forth. I lost it. I grabbed Digby and slammed him into the ground with a hard shoulder throw. "You touched my family's graves and made my brother do manual labor. Are you trying to get buried here with them?" Digby coughed up blood as he struggled to his feet, sneering at me. "This was Mr. Gray's decision. He said your family plot is in a good location, with plenty of space. It's perfect for building a golf course for the future Mrs. Gray. In Joule, Mr. Gray is the law." His tone was icy. "And who do you think you are?" I swallowed my rage and called Marshall Gray. "I hear you run Joule," I said. "Well, I'm about to change that."

His smirk deepened and he took another step toward me. “I want to fuck you.” His voice dripped lower, “As a dancer, you should be used to this by now.” I shook my head quickly, panic rising in my chest. “Yes, I do know. I mean, that’s what I’m meant for.” “Now, let’s get down to business, shall we?” He said, stepping closer. “I don’t have all night.” Before I could part my lips to answer, his hand gripped my thigh and lifted it. The fabric of my dress bunched up, exposing the fine lace of my panties. I gasped, trying to move away from him, but his other hand moved to the back of my neck, holding me in place. His mouth crashed into mine, claiming my lips with a hunger that left me breathless. Suddenly, I felt his hand slip under the elastic of my panties, his finger grazing my sensitive flesh. I whimpered into the kiss, trying to resist, but the sensation was too overwhelming. He deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring my mouth as his finger moved further, sliding inside me with ease. I moaned in protest, the sudden intrusion causing a sharp pain as he broke the kiss, smiling wickedly. “Shhh…” he murmured, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. He knelt, his hand still holding my leg up. “I’m going to need you to open those thighs for me,” he ordered, his tone dark and mocking all at once.