Winter Novels & Stories

Please check out MR KING. Do not fret, COLD has not been neglected. It is drawing closer to the end, that's all I'm willing to say right now;). Happy reading! Stay safe xx

In this life, it is said that there are only two choices: to use or to be used, to save or to be saved. Regardless, there was one thing I had to do - survive! “Don’t fool me! I know your schemes and what you are playing behind my back!” Rage boiled in his veins. “You may have my surname, but you’re still nothing, Scarlette Scott. Don’t forget that.” How could someone display such blatant disrespect and arrogance? Ha! This man believed he could brand anyone with his pride! But not me! Not me, Storm Scoville! I will make sure your arrogant behavior is humbled and put in its rightful place!

Lila Montgomery has loved the cold Adrian Hale since they were children, but her feelings remained a silent secret. When his world crumbles after his lover walks out, Lila seizes her chance to heal his heart. Proposing a marriage of convenience, she makes him a promise: she’ll do whatever it takes to win his love. Surprisingly, Adrian agrees, and for a fleeting moment, Lila believes her dream is within reach. As he begins to show glimpses of care and affection, her hope blossoms. But just as she starts to imagine a future together, Adrian’s ex-lover returns, reigniting old flames. And with that, he asks for a divorce. Heartbroken but determined to protect her dignity, Lila agre

A crescent moon nestled in faintly clouded glass, with three tiny snowflake crystals dangling from the edge like frozen stars. She reached out, fingers hovering just above it, heart tightening. WinterMoon. Her home. Or… the home she left behind. The sound of the crowd softened behind her. The music faded. That charm—that moment—was WinterMoon. The night skies. The quiet hush of snowfall on the hills. The scent of pine and frost and something wild. It was the silence of the woods and the hum of belonging. Her throat tightened. The warmth she’d felt only moments ago didn’t vanish—but it dimmed. The edges of it curled in on themsel

His beard was trimmed, his hair was slicked back, and although he was utilizing a silver-topped cane, he looked ten years younger than the man I’d seen last night. “Minus, good morning. You okay? You’ve got a goofy look on your face.” “To be honest, I expected you to be wearing a Santa suit, face down in a puddle of whatever the fuck I saw in that punchbowl,” I said, motioning toward the kitchen. “Jägenogg. It’s one of Warthog’s holiday traditions.” “It smells like a fucking chemical weapon,” I said. “No wonder you have cancer.” Cutter laughed. “I don’t drink that shit! You think I’m crazy?”