White Rose In Hunger Games Novels & Stories

White Lake High School, a supernatural institution with supposedly mundane students yet to manifest their supernatural potential. One of them being me, Kelly Isabella McHale, hated by all but only hate one. The infamous, Instagram sensation 'Dimples'. Why do I hate him, you ask? Well, my first response will be the fact that ever since he came into existence, bad things have been happening to me, like barred from a good college bad. But the real reason begins with my initiation into the supernatural world through the death of Henry. 'Looks at the sky' The full moon draws near...or should I saw the blue moon. 'Eyes glow....'

Condemned as a witch. Thrown into a bloodsport. Hunted by beasts who want to claim, break, or kill her. Branwen Mosswood spent her life serving pints and saving every copper to escape the Walled City's cruelty. She dreamed of a quiet cottage. Freedom. Peace. Instead, she stabbed a nobleman who got too handsy... and was sentenced to the Wilder Games, a brutal forest arena where thirty "criminals" are forced to survive thirty days while being hunted by five savage shifter Warlords: 🦁 Hadrian Ironpaw - the prideful Lion King 🐺 Fenrick Bloodhowl - the feral Wolf beast 🐻 Torren Brokenbone - the berserker Bear 🐆 Zarrk Shadowprowl - the stalking Panther 🐅 Nythor Frostbite - the northern White Tiger prince If they catch her, they can claim her, body, blood, and soul. Branwen has no intention of becoming anyone's prey. She'll fight. She'll bleed. She'll unleash every forbidden spell in her bones. Because she won't just survive the Games... She'll bend the beasts to their knees Tap in! Updates multiple times weekly! This is the first in a series!

Aksha never imagined that her life is full of mystery. When her eyes turned gold, that's when she realized that she is not an ordinary human being. It was terrifying to know that for her, she's a monster, than living alone in the street as an orphan.

"Suck it, little one... suck harder." Princess Snow White—the most exquisite beauty of the Kingdom of Napoli. Her legendary charm has kings and princes from every corner of the world yearning to claim her lush, pristine body. The lucky man was supposed to be Prince Philip, heir to the vast wealth and power of the Venetian Empire. But destiny had a darker, more carnal plan. The innocent maiden finds herself trapped in the clutches of the Titans—the giant race of Ashmir, known throughout the lands for their insatiable lust and boundless virility. She didn't encounter just one... but must now endure and serve the carnal desires of seven towering giants!

The first story in Two Goddesses tells the life of one of the two goddesses who is adopted as the owner of the universe's most powerful book, The Origin. Besieged by tragedy since birth, the "fake" Princess Mavellin fights for her own harsh life to regain freedom and exact revenge on those who have caused her pain. She realized, as she swam alone in the vortex, that all of her pain stemmed from an event that shook the Holy Mountain Velsi on the day she was born... "The mind is as strong as steel, but the heart is constantly on fire."

Rozelyn found out she is a vampire when she turned eighteen. To make matters worse, her stepmom is secretly a vampire as well and Cyrill, her stepmom's adoptive son, is a werewolf behind the shadows. As she live the life of being a vampire, several people had come for her—including the infamous Blood Mistress, a witch who hunts vampires and werewolves. Rozelyn become more fascinated with the vampire life, especially when she found out that sex plays a huge role in a vampire's everyday living and it acts like blood: once they tasted it, they will crave for it even more. Will Rozelyn be able to voice out her secret love to Cyrill without risking the familial relationship they have built for years? Or will she watch her loved ones perish due to her identity as the most powerful vampire to ever live? Amidst all these, only one thing is certain: Blood is thicker than water—either literally or figuratively.

The day the Thorne family announced our engagement, the New York underworld let out a collective sigh of relief. Because I was set to marry Daemon, the most straitlaced Don in the city, which meant I could no longer be the wild rose who tore up the racetrack. But I resisted with every fiber of my being, finding creative ways to test his limits. During his ten-million-dollar card game with a rival family's Capo, my hand "slipped" and sent a bottle of 1945 Romanee-Conti spilling across the ancient map that outlined their territories, sabotaging the entire negotiation. Daemon, however, just slowly and deliberately wiped the wine from the back of his hand. He didn't even frown as he cleaned up my mess. Then I "accidentally" let my spirited Arabian stallion loose in his immaculately manicured courtyard. The beast went wild, trampling his prize-winning rose garden into mud. But he arrived with his private doctor in tow, crouching before me as his long fingers gently traced the scratch on my arm. "Did the beast hurt you?" Just that one question, and my heart melted completely. "Daemon, I can marry you. But before that, has there ever been another woman who owned your heart?" "I don't share my man. Not in any way." He pointed to his heart, his gaze unwavering as he met my eyes. "Before you, this was empty." After we married, the word on the street in New York's circles of power was this: If you angered Don Thorne, his Donna might plead your case. But if you angered the Donna, you were on your own. Even I began to believe that Daemon, that mountain of ice, would eventually melt for me. Until the day I went to find him, clutching a positive pregnancy test, bursting with joy. Only to hear the family's Consigliere ask him, from the top-floor study, what the best lie he'd ever told was. Daemon chuckled and said casually, "She asked me if anyone had my heart before her." "I told her no."

“Dance.” He commands and Abigail's eyebrows knit in confusion. “I want you to dance. Show me all that you’ve got, naked." Blake Knight. Billionaire. Womanizer. Dangerous. He takes what he wants. Love? Never in his plans, not even in his arranged marriage. His only real obsession is LUST--the elite club where the most beautiful strippers compete for his attention. Then there is Abigail, hired to lure him, to trap him, to infiltrate the Knight family. But seducing Blake is only the beginning. His wife, Ursula, isn't about to let another woman take what is hers. And in a world where power is everything, obstacles aren't just removed... They're eliminated! But Blake isn't as easy to control as they thought. He might be a billionaire, a man ruled by pleasure but he's also a predator in his own right. And when the game turns deadly, Abigail will learn that falling for the Mafia King comes at a price. Get ready for a dark, thrilling, and suspenseful Mafia romance.

"I'll make you fall for me," Alexander whispered, his breath hot against Isabella's ear. "By the time our contract ends, you won't want to let go." Isabella's life was already complicated enough - a struggling hotel worker by day, anonymous artist by night, all while caring for her sick sister. The last thing she needed was to get tangled up with the notorious playboy heir to a luxury resort empire. But when Alexander offers her a deal she can't refuse - a contract marriage to secure his inheritance - Isabella reluctantly agrees. It's just business, after all. As they navigate the world of five-star hotels and high society, unexpected sparks fly. But Alexander's ambitious half-brother Nathan is determined to claim both the company and Isabella for himself. Caught between two powerful men and buried secrets from her past, Isabella must choose: The devil she knows? The tempting stranger? Or the freedom she craves? In this world of wealth and betrayal, love might be the most dangerous game of all. Will her heart survive the game of love and power? Will Isabella follow her head, her heart, or her art?

I was born with a strange condition. I couldn't recognize faces and could only identify people by their clothes. Vincent Lancaster, my boyfriend, never minded. He said it didn't change the way he loved me. That was, until our wedding day. He answered a phone call. His childhood friend, Grace Langley, was in labor, life hanging by a thread, and she demanded he come immediately. My voice shook with despair. "Vincent! If you drive away now, we'll never be husband and wife!" But he left anyway, not looking back. Grace had always loved seeing him in white, so he threw aside the black suit I had sewn for him with my own hands and changed into white. A year later, Vincent returned. By then, my belly was swollen with life, and I was holding onto another man while hosting a baby shower. And the man wore the black suit Vincent had thrown away. Vincent went mad, claiming he was my husband, but no one believed him.