"Perhaps Heaven cast you down because it knew I would spend eternity looking upward for you." "No, Lestat. Perhaps I fell because somewhere below, you were waiting." Once, upon a mountain drowned beneath winter, something fell from Heaven. The snow remembered violet light. The wolves remembered blood. And a mortal boy, already too hungry for life to belong peacefully to it, remembered the face of a woman he could never afterward persuade himself had been an accident. Some loves begin with a glance. Some with a kiss. And some seem to have existed long before the lovers themselves, wandering unseen through creation until, on one bitter winter night, eternity finally places them in each other's path. He was earth reaching defiantly toward Heaven. She was Heaven learning how beautiful the earth could be. Between them would come centuries, blood, music, poetry, sin, divinity, death, and all the terrible questions for which neither angels nor monsters possess answers. But perhaps love was never meant to answer them. Perhaps it was only meant to make eternity worth surviving. For once upon a snowy mountain, beneath a sky that had just lost an angel, Lestat de Lioncourt looked into a stranger's eyes... and felt, for the first time, as though something in the universe had looked back.

Amidst the winter snows of Denmark, where silence seems to swallow even time itself, Lestat de Lioncourt wanders like the ghost of his former self. Having lost Louis, the Wolf-Killer is no longer the vampire who could defy the world with an arrogant smile; he is a weary soul, consumed by guilt and a longing to end his existence. Every dawn becomes a temptation; every night, an echo of shattered love and guilt that continues to bleed. It is in the light of one of those dawns-a dawn meant to claim his life-that he first meets Rebecca, and in her gentle smile, he glimpses the hope of happiness once more. Yet, in the darkness of the Danish nights, a new coven of vampires covets a different destiny for the Prince. Can a final act of love keep Rebecca and Lestat together when even the shadows conspire against them? ENGLISH VERSION OF MY STORY. graphics made by me

ʙᴏʀɴ ᴏꜰ ꜰɪʀᴇ, ʀᴀɪꜱᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴅ; ᴀ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ ʙᴇɴᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴀ ꜰᴀʟᴄᴏɴ'ꜱ ᴡɪɴɢꜱ. ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴᴄɪᴇɴᴛ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ʜᴇɪʀᴇꜱꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ᴄʀᴏᴡɴ ᴏꜰ ᴍɪꜱᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀꜱʜᴇꜱ; ʀᴜʟᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴀ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇᴅ ꜰᴀᴛᴇ. ᴀᴇʟʏꜱ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴡɪɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰʟᴀᴍᴇꜱ. ʜᴇʀ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀᴍʙɪᴛɪᴏɴ, ʙʟᴏᴏᴅꜱʜᴇᴅ, ᴀɴᴅ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇꜱ. ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴꜱ ᴅᴀɴᴄᴇᴅ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɴᴏᴡ. ✴︎ 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚

𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 They called Saelyra Targaryen a miracle before they learned miracles could bite. Born beneath green fire, twin to Rhaenyra, she was named queen by a goddess before she could speak. But Saelyra remembers being Lavanya: abandoned by her father, hunted by an empire, and betrayed by promises of love. She did not return to Westeros to save House Targaryen. She returned to rule. She will protect the dragons, break the lords, and turn devotion into obedience. Because Targaryens love like fire consumes. And when every heart begins burning for her, the realm will learn: its queen was always the villain.

ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ ᴄʜʀᴏɴɪᴄʟᴇꜱ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴠᴀʀɪᴏᴜꜱ [Erotica with story] Two husbands. One runaway wife. No dignity left. Daniel Molloy expected a vampire interview. He did not expect Lestat de Lioncourt and Louis de Pointe du Lac sitting in a ruined penthouse, crying into microphones and begging their runaway wife to come home. Her real name is Shivani. To Lestat, she was Liliana, the woman chained beside him in Magnus' tower, his first love, first wife, and first obsession. To Louis, she was his maker, his salvation, and the woman he chose damnation for. They were her husbands. Not each other's lovers. Never that. Now Shivani has left them, taken Claudia, blocked every number, burned every letter, and disappeared from their lives. So naturally, the two most dramatic vampires alive decide to win her back through a public interview. But Lestat and Louis are not the only monsters who want her. Gabrielle watches her. Marius admires her. Armand worships her. And Shivani? Shivani just wanted peace. Too bad every beautiful immortal man she meets mistakes her for religion.

"There is not a single thought in her head, Harry." "Good,More room for me." Harry said. "that makes it worse." THE GIRL WHO WASN'T DOING THAT ON PURPOSE Inaya Smith has three problems. One, she is very sweet. Two, she has absolutely no idea what is happening. Three, the entire wizarding world has mistaken this for genius. Raised next door to Harry Potter, Inaya grows up as the soft-hearted girl who shares biscuits through hedges, asks worrying questions at the worst possible times, and somehow survives everything that should have killed her. To Muggles, she is Inaya Smith. To wizards, she is Inaya Chauhan. The lost daughter of two murdered Indian Aurors. The child Voldemort failed to erase. The girl whose parents poured their dying magic, protection, and luck into her body before the Dark Lord could take her too. Now Hogwarts has decided she is a Ravenclaw. Hermione thinks she is a hidden mastermind. Ron thinks she is a genius beyond mortal understanding. Draco thinks she is his dream girl wrapped in dangerous mystery. Harry thinks she is his future wife because she promised when they were six and, unfortunately, he has the emotional flexibility of a locked cupboard. Inaya, meanwhile, is trying to find breakfast. She does not want to save the day. She does not want to become a legend. She does not want people whispering "Chauhan" like she is supposed to know what that means. But luck is a violent thing. And Inaya's luck has teeth. So when danger comes for Harry Potter, it trips. When Voldemort makes a plan, she ruins it by accident. When someone asks her how she knew the answer, she says the wall looked helpful. Nobody believes her. They call it humility. They call it brilliance. They call it strategy. Inaya calls it deeply unfair.

✰ at last... the truth, the real, the important part of the story-my story, will be told. and do remember, no matter what she says-everything I did, I did for her. For him, for us. I don't regret a single act. Sincerely yours-The Vampire Lestat ✰ © 𝐉𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄 | 2026

𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 They called her a blessing before they called her a curse. They called her divine before they called her dangerous. By the time the realm called her queen, it was already too late. History remembers Aelyra Targaryen as the first Queen of Westeros, the woman in whose name the Dance of the Dragons began. The woman men bled for, dragons screamed for, and kingdoms burned for. But Aelyra was never meant to exist. She was not born to this world. She came from another life, carrying another name, another grief, and a love so ruinous it followed her even into death. To save the one soul left to her, she gave up her own to the ancient Dragon God of Old Valyria, and in return he made her his chosen child. His voice. His miracle. His mistake. He sent her into House Targaryen to stop the war that would destroy them. To love them enough, heal them enough, bind them tightly enough that the future itself might break around her. But the gods, like men, are often cruel in the things they ask of women. Because Aelyra did save them. Just not in the way anyone intended. She made them softer. She made them kinder. She made them love. And then she made them want. Not the throne. Not power. Her. And Targaryens have never been taught how to love without hunger. So what happens when the girl sent to prevent a war becomes the heart of it? What happens when devotion curdles into obsession, and every dragon in the sky begins to circle the same flame? What happens when the savior of a dynasty becomes the ruin of it? The maesters never wrote that story. This one begins in fire.