Under The Oak Tree 42

[Except] “I’m leaving,” “Do you really think you can run away again and I’ll let you?” Kal asked towering over her, and staring down at her with a dark look on his face with fiery red eyes that held more expressions than he could express. “You’re a vampire and I’m a werewolf. In what world can we be friends,” She yelled at him, pushing lightly against him wanting to leave even faster than before only to feel him press his body even closer to hers as he held her against the tree******** Being the princess of the werewolf kingdom isn’t as easy as it seems especially when you befriend a boy who you later find out is the vampire prince and isn’t as ordinary as he pretends to be. What then do you do when the heir to the throne of the enemy’s kingdom tells you he loves you? Could this be a trap and even if it isn’t are you willing to take that chance and risk the life of all the werewolves in the kingdom of Lunera. Does love truly conquer all including decade-old wars?

Ember accepted her lot in life. On the run, she only wishes to find out the truth behind her dreams and solve the memory of her past. Keegan has only cared about protecting his pack, but when he sees the beauty dancing on stage and the flicker of flames in her eyes his body screams, Mate! Can Keegan tame the flames of Ember and together solve the mystery of her missing past? Or will they all burn together? Excerpt: “This is the reason I’m always tired,” I think to myself. Twenty-four years of coming here and still not a single clue, but every time I close my eyes, I return to this place. I know my surroundings perfectly. Oddly the place is beautiful to the eyes. The old house sat among flowers growing around all sides. The aroma of honeysuckle and jasmine fill my lungs filling me with a moment's peace. I’m sitting in my usual spot. Gripping the ropes of a swing in the front yard held by a large oak tree. Waiting I begin pushing my legs back and forth sending me in motion. I know something is about to happen. It happens every night. The house moves in front of my eyes. I see the shadows coming, but I don’t stop swinging. They are black as night but I can see smiles within the shadow grinning bright. “What is this place!” I cry, fed up with this nightly repetition, but no sound emerges. A noise can be heard from the back of the house. One of the shadows turns toward it. I jump down to follow only to have the other shadow hold me back. “Don’t go. Not yet. Listen to me!”

I grasped in horror as l saw my hands turning into claws. Alot of hair also forming on every part of my body. I touched myself to feel that l nolonger have two legs but four. My hands had also formed into legs. Panick invaded me.l don't want to become anything else. I regretted not taking my mum's advice of not coming near the woods. May be if l had stayed home obediently this wouldn't have happened. I felt my new body move on its own until l reached at the river. The water sat there silently and in there l saw what l have become.A beast.l saw a lone tear coming from my glowing eyes. I got away from the river sat down the tree nearby. My body returned ito its human form. I cried and screamed loudly; No am not a beast. Am human: Am not a beast. This isn't me! I screamed. It's you Daciana. It's what you really are. A voice came from from behind the tree.

La Demeure des Saphirs Froids ​Clara Belym, 42 ans, touche le fond. ​Entre un divorce amer, la perte de son travail et le deuil récent de son père, elle tente de s'échapper de sa vie passée en fuyant Bordeaux vers Toulouse. Mais son voyage s'arrête brutalement sur une route de campagne isolée : panne sèche. Pas de réseau. ​Le salut arrive sous la forme d'une villa somptueuse et secrète, Le Miroir de la Nuit. Rejetée par un personnel hostile, Clara est sauvée in extremis par le propriétaire des lieux : Lucien de Laroche. ​Dès l'instant où leurs mains se touchent, l'attirance est immédiate, violente, un coup de foudre qui balaye le désespoir de Clara. Lucien est sombre, fascinant, et ses yeux d'un bleu glacial — des saphirs froids — cachent une autorité et une soif que Clara ne comprend pas. ​Intelligente et brisée, Clara sent que quelque chose ne tourne pas rond dans cette demeure d'opulence. Mais comment se méfier de l'homme qui semble capable de réparer son cœur ? ​Ce qu'elle ignore : Lucien porte une identité cachée et un secret millénaire. Il est l'une des créatures les plus redoutées. ​Dans cette romance noire obsédante, le danger devient désir. Clara est humaine. Lucien est un vampire. Leur amour interdit pourrait bien lui coûter plus que sa nouvelle vie.

The chimes of the Full Moon Festival echoed through the night air. I fought down the nervous flutter in my chest and shot a text to Beta Lucas. "When are we telling the pack, Beta Lucas? When do we finally mark each other?" "I was still holding my breath when my brother, Alpha Ryan, suddenly raised his hand." He pointed at the Sacred Oak in the middle of the plaza, his voice laced with surprise. "Hey, Elena. Isn't that Lucas?" "He's holding a girl's hand. Looks like the pack's in for a celebration." I followed Ryan's gaze on instinct. In that split second, my wolf went completely cold. Lucas was kissing the girl in his arms, deep and passionate. I recognized her right away. It was Sarah, the rogue wolf Lucas had brought back from the forest border the week before. Word was she'd saved Lucas's life. I must've been staring too hard, because Lucas suddenly looked up and locked eyes with us. His pupils shrank the second he saw me. A few seconds later, he slowly let go of the girl in his arms. "Ryan, Elena. Let me formally introduce you two." "This is Sarah, my chosen mate." When he got to me, Lucas's eyes darted away. He glanced quickly at my pale face, then turned to the Sarah beside him. "This is Elena, Alpha Ryan's sister. She's like a little sister to me, too." We'd shared a bed countless nights. And all I got in the end was the label of sister. Fine, then. If your little sister marries another Alpha, you'll surely bless me, won't you?

The adopted younger sister claimed to be suffering from depression. To make her feel better, my parents hung me on the cliff, as if I were a kite. Servant reminded my parents that the little tree to which I was hung was fragile, leaving me in danger. My mom, Luna of the pack, replied scoffingly: "She makes Laurel sleep panic. She deserves to be treated like this. If she dies, it's her fate." My older brother, Zayn, joked by her side, saying: "It's a good chance to record how long werewolves live when they do not conduct feeding activities. We can contribute a lot to the Werewolf Council with this precious data." Even my mate, Greyson, showed an attitude of stoniness, uttering: "She is a vicious she-wolf. If she were not educated well enough before her transformation ritual, she would cause greater trouble to others." They left me alone on the cliff after saying these words. Three days later, it finally crossed their minds that I was still hanging. When they finally arrived at the cliff, they found nothing but emptiness—because I had already died long before. And when they realized the truth, they howled in agony, begging for me to come back to life. But I was long gone.

Dean Romero is not your average Tiger Shifter. He is the king or the Neta of the Island Stripe Pride, operating out of Manhattan. Wanting to avoid the hustle and bustle of the holiday season, this Neta elects to spend Christmas at his newly built cabin in a remote section of the Pine Barrens just outside of Maccon City, New Jersey. A town notorious among supernaturals for its Shifter ties. Violet Martinez is a nail technician stuck working on the holidays. Asked to make a house call she has no choice but to drive to an important client’s house on Christmas Eve. She’d much rather be at home curled up with her favorite mug full of steaming spiked hot chocolate and a marathon of old black and white movies to keep her company. Resigned to her fate, she heads out in the wintry weather which has made the drive nearly impossible. Halfway there, Violet’s car spins out on a lonely stretch of road and she slams into a tree, hitting her head on the dashboard. Passing out in the cold with a head injury was not on Violet’s Christmas list, but good thing there’s a Tiger king who just happens to be out for a run nearby. When Dean gets a whiff of Violet’s sugar cookie scent all bets are off. This Neta wants her for his own, but will the dark-haired beauty accept him and agree to be his bride this Christmas?

After my rebirth, I avoided my family and my boyfriend like the plague. When they tried to throw me a birthday party, I faked an urgent business trip to dodge it. When my parents pleaded with me to move back, I secretly bought my own house that very night. When my boyfriend popped the question, I spun on my heel and married someone else. In my previous life, my sister and I were swept away in a raging flood. By sheer luck, a jagged tree branch snagged my clothes, saving me from the depths, but my sister drowned in the merciless current. My parents, consumed by grief and rage, gripped my throat and screamed, "If it weren't for you, Andrea would still be alive!" My boyfriend acted like it was no big deal, offering half-hearted comfort before we tied the knot. But on our wedding anniversary, during a family cruise, they cornered me on the deck and shoved me overboard. "Time to taste drowning yourself!" they hissed. It turned out they had never gotten over Andrea's death. My boyfriend had never forgotten about her. When my eyes fluttered open again, I found myself back on that fateful day. This time, I vowed to live for myself, reclaiming the joy they'd stolen from me.

WARNING: Some mature content. [This book is currently under major editing] He’s holding me captive and keeping under his thumb. Should I try and escape this vampires hold on me or should I stay and suffer the consequences?

My name is Elvira Rossi, daughter of Don Rossi, head of the Itavelle mafia family. Three months ago, my father was killed. Our operations were stripped bare, nothing left. The accounts were draining fast, and the family still had mouths to feed. Then a DNA report surfaced out of nowhere. According to it, I was the LaRosa family's long‑lost true heiress, missing for eighteen years. Money, at last, had found its way to me. For the sake of my people, I was willing to set aside my pride and play the part of a sheltered heiress. The car sent to escort me back to the estate broke down halfway up the mountain? I steadied it with one hand and carried it the rest of the way to the hilltop manor. The fake heiress dissolved into tears, accusing me of pushing her? I answered by striking the century-old tree in the courtyard, splitting it clean through. She went silent immediately. My fiancé sent bodyguards to "teach me self‑defense"? My two friends politely introduced them to the concept of being permanently embedded in a wall. As my so‑called "family" shook in fear, my knuckles cracked softly. After all, before inheriting the mafia, I inherited my father's favorite rule: "If violence can solve it, don't waste words."