Running from hell isnʼt easy. Especially when someoneʼs dragging you back down into it. Belligerent, brash and always in shades of black, Freya is hardly a lady. Hidden away by her father, sheʼs lived a normal life despite being born into the dark waters of New Yorkʼs underworld. Heʼs cold, cruel and calculating, with a proclivity for destruction. Feared by even Made Men, Torren is the boss of the stateʼs most leachorous crime syndicate. Freya hates his crudity and possessiveness, but she canʼt deny the way her breath hitches at his rough touch, the deep timbre of his voice, and his dark, heated gaze. Torren hates her disobedience, her recklessness, and her chaos. To him, sheʼs only something to be tamed. And after he slips a ring on her hand, snatching away her future, she makes only one vow---to become his biggest torment.

When Mira finds an apartment priced too good to be real, she convinces herself it's luck and not a warning but the moment she steps inside, the silence feels wrong. Heavy like the walls are listening. The landlord is friendly in that unsettling, too practiced way. The neighbors never show their faces and at the end of the hallway sits a door everyone pretends doesn't exist. There's only one rule: 𝘿𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙊𝙥𝙚𝙣 𝙄𝙩. But we all know those rules don't survive 𝘾𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙮.

In a world where emotion is power, the Academy of Velanor guard and educate what remains of the shattered Cores: 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐫. 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞. 𝐑𝐚𝐠𝐞. 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟. 𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐞. Each bound to a human life. When Serra's Core ignites without warning, she is thrust into the unknown world and rules of Velanor, a place, she soon realizes, that feels both like a cage and sanctuary, compared to the dying world she came from. Serra meets Aren. A Corebearer marked by a forbidden past. His magic is unstable. His temper, 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦. And when their powers collide, the old myth stirs again. The same myth that once broke the world. NEW CHAPTERS ARE POSTED 1-2 TIMES A WEEK!

She was forged in steel and crowned in blood. Dahlia Ravanyr, monarch of shadows, built her empire on silence and the bones of betrayal. Her reign is defined by a single, sacred law: Never kneel. But a lifetime of ruthless control is shattered the night she encounters Vael Mouren. He is a mortal man. Undefined. Detached. He knows nothing of her immortal world, yet his eyes hold the primal, cold arrogance of a true predator. He doesn't fear her ancient power; he only demands her surrender. Their union is a scar on the heart of their kingdoms. She is the Vampire Queen of endless night; he is the man who tastes like ripe strawberries and commands her submission. As the political landscape fractures-threatened by ancient enemies and the volatile Bottomless Darkness Vael harbors-Dahlia must choose. Will his terrifying, buried power save her crumbling throne, or will his absolute possession be the weapon that finally brings her to magnificent ruin? He touched what no blade could reach-her hunger, her silence, her ruin. (A Dark Romantasy exploring themes of power exchange, dominance, and the magnificent, fatal cost of love.)

Sabrina Reed is Nathan Alden's wife, but not by his choice... EXCERPT****** "I found her like this, sir," the guard announced. Sabrina stirred at the voice, blinking groggily and rubbing her eyes to chase away the blur clouding her vision. A towering figure stepped into focus. "What are you doing out here, Sabrina?" Nathan's voice was sharp, cutting through the fog of sleep. His jaw was tight, words pressed between clenched teeth. She blinked again, brushing hair from her face as she sat up. "What are you doing out here?" he repeated-louder this time, more demanding. He stood before her in a jet-black suit and white button-up shirt, sleeves rolled just enough to expose forearms clenched across his chest. His eyebrows were drawn tight, his eyes narrowed. "I came back late last night and... the guard was gone, so... I just fell asleep," she said softly, eyes lowering under the weight of his glare. He dismissed the guard with a silent nod, then stepped closer. "Where were you last night?" he asked, voice taut with suspicion. She yawned, trying to blink herself fully awake. "I've been volunteering at the animal shelter." "Get up," he ordered, tone clipped and harsh. "You expect me to believe that? Don't animal shelters close at a decent time?" She remained seated, her legs too stiff to move. "Yes, but-" "Get up!" he barked.

Now a digital pilot for SYFY The Society knows when we're going to die. They imprint it on our arms at birth. I was supposed to die yesterday. I'm the girl who's Expired. Winner of the 2020 Readers Choice Awards Cover by @Forcade