Yam Cookie

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?

Two different worlds, two separate lives are fused together in this surreal tale of the supernatural. A world unknown to her and a world he runs from. An unending war between their worlds leads them down the same path with their destinies aligned. What will happen when the fate of their worlds hang in the balance and they have to make a choice? *** She had no idea how long she had been sleeping for but she woke up to the sound of someone sniffing. She was drowsy so she paid not much attention to it but then it continued, then she heard the voice again, “Lavender, you use lavender for your hair. How have I never sniffed your hair before?", the sniffing continued. The sound reverberated through the caves, whilst she felt the vibrations on his chest where she lay, but she did not need that to know whose voice it belonged to. It was deep but not hoarse, somehow it was powerful and soothing at the same time, it was the voice of a god, one that had spoken to her all of these months, one she had replayed over again in her head till it was ingrained in her memory. “Dragomir…”, she whispered in a teary voice, she proceeded to stand up but he held on to a part of her hair and was sniffing it. When he noticed her staring at him, he stopped and stared back at her as if she had just caught him trying to steal from the cookie jar. “Was that creepy?”, he asked.

*** Please note that this book is based on characters from my completed novel, Sinfully Yours, exclusively available on GoodNovel. However, you do not need to have read it to read this book.*** I have hated the Morettis ever since I was old enough to understand how the cookie crumbles. They are the sole reason why my life turned out this way. Alone. Unloved. Abused. Broken. Now I'm out to ruin their lives like they have mine. I've researched them for years, and now I'm finally getting my shot. There is one problem, though. The Moretti triplets are more than what I bargained for. My plan was to reel them in one by one, seduce them if I had to, and then destroy them. I wanted to take away everything they've worked for, strip them bare, and leave them to the vultures. Their parents destroyed mine, so I wanted to destroy their precious offspring, let them taste even just a tidbit of the disappointment I have experienced since I was born. When I weasel myself into their lives, I didn't expect them to be so enigmatic and electrifying. They take up all the air when they are in the vicinity, and I am choking, struggling to remember what my goal is. Will I be successful in my quest for vengeance? Or will I crumble under their hazel eyes and give up the one thing I had that is mine? My soul.

Wendy Lloyd's first love, Hudson Clark, treats me like a walking blood bank. Because of that, I end up dying in the rented apartment Wendy has given to me out of contemptuous pity. Today is the third day of my death. My six-year-old son, Terry Heath, finally realizes that something is wrong with me. When he accidentally cuts his finger from playing with his toys, I don't coax him at all. When he tears open a pack of cookies and feeds one to me, I don't stop him at all. When he lies in my arms and grips me by the hem of my shirt while calling out to me softly, I don't respond to him at all. Feeling rather uneasy, Terry finds my phone and calls Wendy. "Mommy, why is Daddy still asleep?" Wendy responds by sending a photo of her and Hudson enjoying a holiday feast together. She then says coldly, "He's just asleep, not dead. Today is Christmas Eve, so I'm very busy right now. "Tell that arrogant father of yours that he's only free to visit me whenever he's ready to acknowledge his mistakes." After that, the call ends. Terry is left feeling stunned for a long time. Finally, he digs out the last cookie from the trash can and snaps it in half. Then, he feeds it to me again. "Daddy, let's eat."