Total Annihilation: Kingdoms Novels & Stories

Detective Casie Blackwood thought she'd left her supernatural past behind when she joined the police force ten years ago, fleeing the shame of public mate rejection and family abandonment. Now, ritualistic murders are forcing her back into a world she desperately wanted to forget. Three human victims have been discovered with surgical precision wounds and ancient symbols carved into their palms—markings that point to forbidden blood magic from before the supernatural communities established peaceful coexistence. When Casie finds a note written in the old pack language reading "The Hunt Begins," she realizes someone is deliberately targeting humans to harvest their primal fear, threatening to expose the entire supernatural world. Partnered with Detective Rick O'Connor, who remains unaware of her true nature, Casie must navigate the investigation while concealing her enhanced senses and knowledge of the supernatural. The wounds aren't from blades—they're fang marks. The positioning isn't random—it's ritualistic. And the killer's scent carries a terror that suggests they're being hunted by something even more dangerous. Forced to break ten years of silence, Casie contacts her estranged brother Elias, learning the symbols are ancient binding marks used to channel supernatural energy across factional boundaries. The killer needs seven sacrifices total to complete a ritual that will shatter the barriers between the human and supernatural worlds. With three victims already claimed and only four days until the next lunar cycle, time is running out. As federal agents circle and media attention intensifies, Casie must choose between maintaining her carefully constructed human life and embracing the supernatural heritage she rejected. The investigation isn't just about stopping a killer—it's about preventing an all-out war that could destroy both worlds she's sworn to protect.

Jason Derrick, a 27-year old man. Cold, dreadful and callous criminal feared by others. A high- ranked individual in his confraternity. One whose identity is hidden by all except for three people. He's known as "Black Moon" because of his unique dress code featuring the black colour throughout. His heart is hardened because of the hurtful events he has encountered. He hardly gets sentimental over anything and has nothing to do with girls. A handsome billionaire. Skilled and highly qualified in the professional field. He has two lives. A deadly killer at night and a Hardworking CEO on a blissful day. The day and night have their specific duties. He lives in an isolated region, never been traced. Having lost his family in the most traumatic way and his fiancée, Rose, in the hands of a deadly nefarious man- Stone, He has not been better. However, Stone manipulates him by blackmailing him into doing his criminal activities because of a secret which is to be concealed till death, but his life encounters a change when he met a lady known as Stacy. Stacy Torres is a 24 year old lady. A workaholic, dedicated to her job. She has won many rewards for being the best in her department and company. She lives alone and the daughter of the once-successful business man, Mr Richmond Torres. Despite being very rich, she stooped low to work in a company other than hers. She's a kind soul and naive about some essential parts of life . Everything hovering around her life made her a target for Stone. Her life is in total danger as many thugs and gangs are after her. With happenings around, Jason and Stacy had to live together. Will Stacy be of help to Jason or not? Will Jason be free of Stone?

“Kiss me,” Dante said. His undertone burned with desire as much as his hooded grey eyes. “I will not.” Sophia chuckled, trailing a finger against his hard-clothed chest, biting on her lower lips and relishing in the frustration his expression held. Dante growled, staring down at her. “You little tease.”He grunted enclosing his palm around her jaw and smashing her gently against the wall. “Oh…...” Sophia gasped. Her breath hitched and her walls tingled as she stared into Dante's eyes. Gosh! He was the hottest man on earth. Deep lustful grey eyes that pleased to let him kiss her, heavy breath that showed how much he yearned for her. Her inner churned and she moved her fingertip against his cheeks, watching the rise and fall of his chest. “Kiss me.” She whispered with eyes that granted approval and soaking wet cunt, that burned with the desire to be touched by him. Dante’s cock jerked in gratification. Without further words he cupped the base of her neck, smashing his lips against hers and kissing her hungrily like she was his first taste of wine. If Sophia had the world, she would give it to Dante, but she had just her pure beautiful heart—the total opposite of the man Dante is. The ruler of the underground world, the one whose presence commanded silence, found himself wrapped in the web that her fragile little heart had created for him. He would lay the world for her, and if she desired, then the world would cease to exist. Something that started as mare lust has whirled into powerful love, breaking the resolve that Dante spent his entire existence building. She was everything he desired, only that she was the standing ovation to the victory he spent his existence working for.

I am about to book a room at a hotel owned by Luca Conti, a consigliere under my command, when a sharp voice suddenly cuts in from behind me. "Aspetta. That's not your price." I turn around. A woman wearing a manager's badge stands there with her arms crossed, scrutinizing me as if I am an unsightly stain she can't wait to wipe away. "We don't allow prostitution here," she says coolly. "If you're receiving clients, there will be a fine." As she speaks, she hands me a penalty notice. The charges are clearly listed on the paper. "Illegal guest reception fee: 350 thousand dollars. "Special soundproofing fee: 150 thousand dollars. "Special cleaning fee: 100 thousand dollars. "Total fee: 600 thousand dollars." Receiving clients? I have simply come straight from a Mafia cocktail party without changing clothes—that's all. What exactly does she take me for?" I lift my gaze and answer evenly, "You're mistaken. I am not that kind of person. You can contact the hotel owner, Luca Conti, and ask him who I am." A sneer flickers through Sofia Rossi's eyes. She spits to the side, full of contempt. "Still claiming you are not a puttana? Women like you come here every week. Every single one of them swears she knows him. "Our boss is the consigliere to the Russo family, the most powerful Mafia family in Seneriffe. Do you really think he needs someone cheap like you? "I suggest you pay up now, subito, before your client loses patience and drags you into the street and rapes you." I do not waste another word on her. I take out my phone and send a message directly to my secretary, Marco Bianchi. "Notify Luca. Either this manager, Sofia Rossi, disappears from this city, or he does."

“You know what you have to do,” Blake said, his eyes bearing hatred into Cassandra, “You don’t like me.” “No,” Cassandra answered, she had been rehearsing how to sound nice while she rejected his proposal but it was impossible. “What?” He asked surprised “I said no, I am sorry, I can’t do that.” She muttered. “You don’t have any idea what you are signing up for, do you?” He asked, both his hands balled into fists on the table, while she watched him silently. “How much did my grandfather pay you?” He asked again and then she looked away from his magnetic gaze, feeling embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I told Mr. McKnight that I would marry you. I don’t think anything would change my mind.” She feigned confidence, holding onto her own hands to stop them from trembling. “We can just try to get along.” “Get along? What was I expecting from a gold-digger?” he asked with deep seething frustration. “You all are the same.” I wanted to ask what he meant by that but I couldn’t. “This wouldn’t be easy I assure you, princess, there would be a price to pay, a fucking expensive one.” He gets up and puts on his cap. “See you later, dear wife.” Unable to say a word she watched him storm away, her heart hammering painfully at his threat. Cassandra’s life took a total turn when her uncle forced her to get married to his partner’s grandson. Even though she was reluctant at first but then she didn’t have a choice but to agree, if there was a way she could escape her cousin, Lance. She would gladly marry even the devil because what has she got to lose?

I check on family businesses in the countryside with my girlfriend, Mildred McClure, in tow. At noon, we stop by my uncle, Barron Cortez's, place for a simple lunch. Just as we are getting ready to leave, his new wife, whom he married just six months ago, Hilda Ross, rushes out and demands that we settle the bill. "Elden, you two just had the Supreme Farmhouse Set Meal, which is 1,888.80 dollars, and your girlfriend picked three organic, pesticide-free tomatoes in the garden. That's 199.80 dollars. "With an 80% service charge, your total comes to 3,800 dollars." Mildred is stunned. "Elden, do we have to pay to eat at your uncle's place?" I start to feel embarrassed, and my expression darkens as I look at Hilda, my supposed aunt, who's barely any older than me. "I've grown up eating at my uncle's place and never paid a single penny. Besides, your prices are downright outrageous!" Hilda calmly whips out a price menu and righteously declares, "That's all ancient history. Now, we're running a farmhouse business where all prices are clearly marked, so everyone pays the same rate. "Barron said you're some big boss in the city. Surely you're not going to stiff us over a little bill, are you?" She steps in front of the gate to block the exit with her body and shoots me a contemptuous look. "Even family settles their accounts. If you don't pay up today, don't even dream about stepping through this door!" While Mildred panics, I laugh in disbelief before taking out my phone and dialing Barron's number. "Uncle Barron, Hilda wants to settle accounts between family, so don't you think it's time we settled our accounts too?"

One night, my family sat together watching the New Year’s Eve Live on television. My little sister, Stella Larson, said she had to pee and hurried to the washroom. Half an hour later, she still had not returned. When I went to check on her, the washroom was empty. “When did Stella leave the washroom?” I asked my parents. Both of them were stunned for a moment before feeling my forehead and saying, “What are you talking about? You’re an only child. Who is Stella?” They forcibly pulled me back to my seat. My mind went blank. Did the three of them just pull a prank on me? After finishing his drink, my father clutched his stomach and rushed into the washroom. I stared fixedly at the washroom door. A long time passed, but no one came out. My father had vanished, too. My hand trembled as I pointed at the bathroom. My mother stepped forward to go in. “Don’t go in! Dad and Luna disappeared in there!” My mother looked grief-stricken as she said, “Sweetie, it’s been just the two of us for the past twenty-plus years, remember?” Her words hit me hard. I was in total disbelief. I explained myself frantically, but the more I spoke, the more confused my mother became. She finally shook me off and said, “Why are you doing this to me? I’ve raised you your whole life! Why do you have to ruin New Year’s Eve?” She walked straight into the washroom, and the house soon fell into a dead silence. Terrified, I called my best friend, Kathy Scott, who lived nearby. I rambled incoherently as I begged her for help. But her words utterly crushed me. “What family members? You’re an orphan.” I hung up the phone, rushed out, and pounded frantically on the neighbors’ door.

The day of our Mating Ceremony finally arrived. As the Elder stood before the pack, his voice booming as he announced the exchange of our soul-binding rings, Julian—the man standing across from me—suddenly spoke. "Actually," he said, his voice cutting through the sacred silence. "I’ve been fucking Chloe." I froze. He didn't even blink as he watched the color drain from my face. "While you were busy trying on your ceremonial gown, we were in the dressing room right next to yours," he continued, his tone chillingly conversational. "She couldn't help but scream when she climaxed. You actually thought she was falling ill; you spent ten minutes checking on her through the door, worried sick." "Later, while she stood by your side helping you pick out jewelry, her legs were shaking so hard she could barely stand." In that instant, I felt the blood turn to ice in my veins. Stiffly, I turned my head toward the woman standing in the front row, wearing a radiant smile. Chloe. She was waving her bouquet, cheering my name at the top of her lungs. Just an hour ago, she had been brushing tears from her eyes as she straightened the train of my dress, squeezing my hands and telling me I deserved all the happiness in the world. "Even just now, while you were preparing for the ritual, she was riding me," Julian added, his voice dropping to a low, rough growl. "She got so worked up her claws shredded the skin on my back." He looked down at the silver band in his hand—the ring he had yet to slide onto my finger—with total indifference. "I’m laying it all out there, Elara," he said. "Whether you still want the title of Luna is entirely up to you."

"I thought you were my savior. I didn't know you were the one who set the fire." The day the debt collectors came for my family, I couldn’t even scream. My voice has always been a prisoner of my anxiety, leaving me defenseless in a world of wolves. Then came Ignatius. My brother’s best friend. A man with the face of a saint and the wealth of a king. He didn't just save me; he bought my world. He paid the debts, moved me into his palatial estate, and whispered that I was finally safe. For the first time, I felt the warmth of a "hero." I gave him my trust. I almost gave him my heart. But a saint doesn't keep cameras in your bedroom. The crushing realization hit harder than any blow from a collector: Ignatius didn't buy my debt—he created it. He paid the men who terrified my mother. He orchestrated the ruin of my brother. Every tear I shed was a calculated investment in my total dependence on him. He didn’t want a lover; he wanted a broken pet. Now, the "Saint" has dropped his mask. Ignatius thinks because I am mute, I am powerless. He thinks because I am fragile, I am his. He’s wrong. If Ignatius wants to play the Predator, I’ll find a bigger one. His father, Cane—the cold, ruthless patriarch of the empire—is the only man Ignatius fears. I’m moving from the guest room to the master suite. I’m going to tear this family apart from the inside out, one forbidden dinner at a time. Ignatius ruined my life to own me. Now, I’m going to make sure the debt he owes me costs him everything.

Werewolf/Human Romance, 18+ Thessara, the former great Luna of the Bloodclaw Pack, is killed by those she cared for most. But when she wakes again, it is weakly in the form of Claire, a timid human nurse, wife of a genius and a cold billionaire neurosurgeon, Dr. Kieran Hale. Stolen of all her magic and lupine powers by the moon goddess Thessara must live as Claire, between the responsibilities of a human wife, drangonwolf reborn and the abiding hunger she can no longer suppress. Kieran, a cold and merciless hunter for monsters like her kind, awakens hunger to the human body she now possesses. Trapped between two fates, Thessara must discover why the Moon Goddess sentenced her to this new life. But can she endure this passion that demands total exploration of Claire’s boisterous emotions, forbidden desires and the hunger her husband evokes. "Hmmm!" she moans, but it was more from pleasure than pain. "Oh, I might have forgotten to mention, lupine." I spank her again, just as hard. "We humans like to give our females the right incentive to obey." I give her a few sharp spanks on her upper thighs. "Just. Like. This." I can smell her arousal getting stronger again by the second. And her heartbeat faster. She clearly likes what I’m doing. "I’ll stop if you don't like it." I tease her before I smack her ass again for good measure. "Don't stop Dr Kieran… please." She says breathing hard. I rewarded her with a few strokes between the legs again. “I want to hear you beg Thessara.” I spank her again. "Please—oh please kieran—" I pushed a finger between her thighs, into her core, and stroke. "Like this?" I asked. She wriggles and pushes her hips backwards to meet my fingers. “Yes…”