Under Your Scars: A Dark Romance Novel Reviews 소설 & 이야기

His eyes aren't just darker, they're brighter and his aura is even more dangerous, but I arch my back and let out an even louder moan, feeling this heat running through my veins like hot oil. His hands went under my shirt and pulled it off, throwing it on the floor and I closed my eyes, aware for the first time of my body, there were many scars, no matter how much the healing potion had closed the cuts, the scars are still there and they spread almost all over my body.

She hadn't even considered the possibility that the rest of his kind might not take nicely to him marrying a witch , they hated them so much . "Where are we going?" Scar finally asked once they'd been traveling for some time. The cart shook constantly on the path, and it was giving her a headache. "To the Underland," Damon answered curtly. "We're almost to the tunnels." His tone was clipped and impersonal, making Scar withdraw back into her seat, unwilling to press him for more information. He was back to his cold, impassive self, nothing like the man who had saved her skin from death . Nothing like the man who'd made her sleep on a bed . Nothing like the man who made her feel so safe .

I drank up her body, not able to look away from her jutting collar bones, her smooth neck or her perfect boobs… It was then that I swallowed hard, realising what she was showing me. It wasn't her sexy, dainty body with her gorgeous breasts, it was beyond that. Her skin, from her waist to the band of her jeans, was a canvas of scars, runes and what looked like small burn marks. My chest tightened painfully as she turned to show me her back. My wolf's anger and pain mixed with my own, I stepped back. It was worse than the front. The number of gashes was alarming. Some hadn’t even healed properly, leaving them puffy and raised. Her warm ivory skin was littered with scars of different colours, s

Your encouragement gave me strength, motivation, and purpose. Scarred Under Moonlight became more than just a novel. It became a shared experience, one built on emotion, connection, and trust. Together, we explored love, loss, resilience, and healing. Together, we watched as characters grew, stumbled, rose, and finally found peace. That shared experience is something I will always treasure.

" - suzangill ... Wear your battle scars, not as a flaw but an ornament. And see them shine even brighter than gold and diamonds. Mold your weaknesses into your strength, To become the best version of the scarred beauty of yourself. .... The End .... Thank you so much for being with me on this beautiful journey. Your love, comments and votes on this book have meant the world to me. I wish you all nothing but happiness and success in life. Take care! Love you all. Your dear author, Suzan❤️

Amara stared back, trying to project a semblance of stillness, refusing to betray the sheer terror gripping her. ​Emiliano stared at her for a long, silent moment, his expression unreadable. He seemed to be assessing her, her fear, her presence in his bed. He slowly walked around the bed, stopping on his side. ​He reached up, pulling his undershirt over his head in one fluid motion, tossing it onto a nearby chair. Amara couldn't breathe. Her gaze involuntarily dropped, taking in the powerful breadth of his chest, the taut lines of his abdomen, and the faint, intricate scars—silent trophies of a violent life—that crisscrossed his left shoulder.

The warmth of her skin seeped through my fingertips, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. Her breathing shifted, a soft murmur escaping her lips, but she didn't wake. I leaned in closer, my nose brushing against the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent the sweet, musky scent of her fragrance, mixed with a hint of the arousal she had been so eager to show me earlier. It made my head spin.

DAMIEN As I waited for Scarlett to come, a strong mix of anticipation and arousal coursed through my veins, igniting every nerve ending in my body. With my mask securely in place, shielding my identity, I stood poised in the dimly lit room, my senses on high alert for the sound of her steps approaching. When she finally showed up, the sight of her, completely naked beneath the large trench coat she wore, sent a surge of desire coursing through my veins. Her boldness, her utter disregard for the consequences, was intoxicating, it drove me nuts.

She slightly moaned as he bit her skin Jaxon was done with what he was intending to do as he attached her seatbelt and flashed a victorious smile. Rosalina realized as she jumped and looked at the window glass turning her head. She saw a big reddish-purple scar and her eyes widened. Jaxon was already driving with a satisfied smirk. She started hitting him. "What the fuck did you do!?!" She spat "Ow! Do you want me to crash the car or something? I didn't know you love me this much that you are willing to die together." He said teasingly

I am as exciting and predictable as a loaf of sliced white bread. Anyway, back to my story. The traffic started moving, and off he went, leaving behind the lingering scent of tobacco. At work, I had trouble concentrating, and spent most of the day creating racy vignettes in my head with us as the feature characters. Let's be honest; I have a very vivid imagination. The closest I've been to a hot steamy encounter is courtesy of the pages of my endless supply of paperback romance novels. I'm not the kind of girl that attracts hot, sexy men. In fact, I've been called an ice queen by more than one guy. But when I'm in the middle of one of my books, I am sensual, daring, sarcastically humorous, a