Caitlin "Cat" O'Lara didn't cross an ocean for a man. She crossed it for rain. For quiet. For the kind of green that feels older than language. Six months in Forks, Washington-long enough to work, to breathe, to decide if the life she's built can stretch farther than Belfast ever allowed. Long enough to know whether America might become more than a temporary address. She lives above a florist shop that smells like roses and damp earth. She drives a truck that's too big for her. She tucks her three-year-old daughter, Violet-pink, sparkly, unicorn-obsessed-into bed each night beneath string lights and tells herself this is only a chapter. Embry Call never planned on destiny arriving through a dating app. At twenty-eight, he's steady in ways he fought hard to become. Three years clean. A small house in La Push where he helps his mother and keeps his life simple. He's done chaos. He's done cruel love. He's done burning everything down. He isn't looking for forever. Then Cat opens the door. And something older than both of them goes quiet. He says the only thing his stunned heart can manage. "You're so Irish." What follows isn't fireworks. It isn't reckless. It's afternoons spent talking in the soft dim of her bedroom. It's Violet asking if he likes unicorns. It's rain on cedar and the slow, terrifying realization that sometimes love doesn't arrive like a storm. Sometimes it arrives like recognition. But six months has an ending. Visas expire. Contracts close. Roots have to decide where they belong. And some loves-no matter how certain-still have to choose whether they're brave enough to stay. Between two coasts, between two pasts, between what was survived and what might be built, something is being woven. And once the rain finds you, it doesn't always let you go.

Elara Magnolia Whitlock has always known she was different. Raised by the Cullen family since childhood, she's their golden girl-the sweet, stylish, slightly wild eighteen-year-old who reads Greek myths for fun, drives a vintage Mustang, and has never lost a sparring match against her father, Jasper Hale. But she's also their most closely guarded secret. The Cullens have spent her entire life protecting her, loving her, and hiding one devastating truth: Elara's mother didn't die in childbirth. Elara's mother wasn't human at all. When Alice, Jasper, and Elara rush to Volterra to save Edward, everything shatters. In the throne room of the Volturi, Elara meets Demetri-their lethal, impossibly handsome tracker-and the world tilts. A bond she doesn't understand slams into place, ancient and overwhelming. Demetri looks at her with reverence she's never seen before... and the kings notice instantly. They know exactly what she is. Exactly what she was born for. And they want her on their side. Elara escapes Volterra, but Demetri can track the essence of any mind on Earth-its tenor-and hers is the most beautiful he's ever heard. He follows her, protects her, falls for her in a way that terrifies them both. But when Bella becomes pregnant, the truth can't stay buried. Desperate to save her friend and terrified of history repeating itself, Elara demands answers. Demetri breaks first, revealing the secret that destroys everything: "Your mother is not dead." Now Elara must face the truth: she is the last daughter of Athena, born of a goddess and a general, a spark of divinity hidden in a mortal world. War is in her blood. Destiny is waking. And the bond she shares with Demetri might be the key to saving everyone she loves-or the thing that destroys them all. She was raised in sweetness. But she was born for war. #1- BellaSwan 1/4/26 #1- NewMoon 1/6/26 #1- DemetriVolturi 1/15/26 #1- EsmeCullen 1/15/26

Sunday Louise Kincaid never belonged at Hogwarts. Not really. The only daughter of a Kentucky folk-witch and an American soldier stationed in England, Sunday grew up with holler charms, Bible hymns turned to spells, and the drawl of mountain songs in her bones. When her letter arrived on her eleventh birthday, she stepped into a castle of stone and shadows that was never built for a girl like her-an Appalachian witch with dirt under her fingernails and coal in her pocket. For six years she kept her head down. A Hufflepuff with sharp eyes and sharper instincts, Sunday avoided trouble, avoided gossip, avoided Draco Malfoy most of all. Not because she hated him-no, that would have been easy-but because she had always seen something behind his polished sneer. Something dangerous. Something broken. Something she wasn't supposed to touch. Now it's their seventh year. Voldemort has risen. The Carrows rule the school. The halls echo with screams and silence. And Sunday can't avoid Draco Malfoy anymore. He's not the boy she remembers. He's thinner. Paler. His silver eyes hollow, his hands shaking as if carrying a weight too heavy for seventeen. He's marked now-Death Eater-and everyone knows which side he stands on. But when Sunday looks at him, really looks, she sees the truth: he's unraveling. What begins as stolen glances in the library grows into whispered words in the dark. What begins as silence grows into something that feels like salvation. But salvation is dangerous. Forbidden. Impossible. As war bleeds into the walls of Hogwarts, the two of them are pulled into a secret tether of desperation and want. Every step closer is a risk. Every kiss is betrayal. When the final battle comes, Sunday will stand and fight. And Draco will face the question that has haunted him all year: When the smoke clears, will he walk back to the parents who beckon him- or toward the girl who taught him there's more than ashes waiting at the end of the world?

Before horoscopes were entertainment, they were survival. What the Weave Named Us is a southern-gothic reimagining of the zodiac-an older, darker system of meaning rooted in folklore, old gods, and the quiet intelligence of fate itself. In this world, the stars don't predict your future. They remember why you were born. This project is built from the mythology of the Weave, the same unseen force that runs through my Twilight fanfictions-a listening, responsive power that binds souls, shapes callings, and tightens its threads when the world begins to fracture. Here, that mythology steps fully into the light. The Weave is not a god, but it is older than gods. It listens. It tightens and loosens its threads in response to a breaking world, naming people not by personality traits, but by purpose. Builder. Healer. Storm. Wolf. Seer. This is the real zodiac-the one whispered about in kitchens heavy with grief, felt in the bones of children who arrive carrying fire or sight or restlessness, and passed down in fragments where the land still remembers. Each chapter will reveal one of the Twelve Names of the Weave: what it means, what it demands, and what it costs to carry it. These are not signs meant to comfort you. They are names meant to recognize you. You were never meant to fit a horoscope. You were meant to answer a calling. And once the Weave names you-it does not take it back.

They say the red clay roads of Willow Creek turn sinners into saints and saints into something far more dangerous. Jasper Hale takes a new name-Levi Whitlock-and flees south with a Bible he doesn't deserve to hold. He wants redemption. He wants quiet. He wants to forget the blood on his hands and the family he abandoned. But the gods of these hills have other plans. Because Willow Bend has a girl of its own. Mary-Katherine Shepherd. Deacon's daughter. Oldest of five. The angel everyone expects to stay soft and small and good. But Jasper can feel the truth trembling beneath her ribs-fire disguised as gentleness, hunger she's been taught to hide, a secret life the town would never believe. The moment he meets her, something ancient sparks under his skin. Something he thought he'd buried with the name Jasper Hale. Something that feels a lot like fate. In a church built on dust and expectations, under the gaze of old gods who never stopped meddling, a war-worn preacher and a girl with clipped wings find themselves drawn together again and again. Neither of them should want this. Neither of them can stop. Some destinies scorch. Some burn. And some-on the red clay roads of Willow Bend-turn saints into sinners and sinners into something holy. NEW MOON --- BREAKING DAWN

Summer Whitaker is the kind of girl who leaves chalk suns on the sidewalks and photographs raindrops like they're miracles. After her mother's sudden death, she's forced to abandon her Vermont woods for the wet shadow of Forks, Washington-armed with nothing but her camera, her stubborn hope, and her bright, breakable heart. Emmett Cullen has spent nearly a century laughing too loud, lifting too much, and pretending eternity feels like anything other than loneliness. That changes the moment Summer sits beside him in biology with paint on her jeans and sunlight in her smile. He's not supposed to want her. He's not supposed to need her. He's not supposed to feel the pull of something ancient and terrifying. But Summer doesn't know she's his mate. She doesn't know she's the first thing he's ever wanted badly enough to break rules for. And she certainly doesn't know how close he is to asking her to prom when she shrugs and says: "We should just go as friends." What follows is a collision-of grief and immortality, starlight and constellations, laughter and unspoken truths. And somewhere between a dance floor and a midnight after-party argument that turns into something else entirely, Emmett realizes that loving a girl like Summer is its own impossible science. I only write happy endings.

Katherine 'Kit' Prescott has never known a life outside the looming shadow of Ashwood Hall. Born the only daughter of the Prescott Timber dynasty, her days are lined with expectations: perfect posture, perfect grades, a perfect future. But in the quiet corners of her childhood, she found something the Hall could never offer her-friendship. Seth Clearwater was the caretaker's son. He spent summers hauling wood, painting fences, and trailing behind his father, Harry, as he kept Ashwood Hall running. Where her parents saw "help," Kit saw her best friend-the boy who made her laugh until her stomach hurt, who slipped her cookies in the kitchen and called her Kit when everyone else called her Katherine. They grew up together, inseparable despite the unspoken rule: Seth could be her friend, but never more. Everything shattered the spring Harry Clearwater died. Grief-stricken and furious, Seth turned his anger on the Prescotts, convinced the long hours and endless work at Ashwood Hall had helped wear his father down. At the funeral, he couldn't even look at Kit. Later, a single bitter text ended everything. Two years passed. Two years of silence, of Kit living in her parents' world of prep schools and polished futures, and Seth living in the dark aftermath of his father's death-his grief compounded by the secret that changed his life: the wolf inside him. When fate finally forces them into the same place again, the universe makes its choice. Seth imprints. Now Kit and Seth are pulled back into each other's orbit, bound by something far older and deeper than family rules or class divides. But love that was once forbidden has become inevitable-and in the world of wolves, destiny is as dangerous as it is inescapable. At Ashwood Hall, nothing will ever be the same. #1- SethClearwater 1/2/26 #1- SueClearwater 1/2/26 #1- BradyFuller 1/2/26 #1- CollinLittlesea 1/2/26 #3- EmbryCall 1/3/26

Madeline "Murphy" Swan is back in Forks for one last wild summer before senior year of college-and she's not planning to spend it quietly. She's always been the loud one, the mess-maker, the party girl with paint on her jeans and trouble in her smile. But the boy she can't stop thinking about isn't just anyone: it's Sam Uley, La Push's golden boy, the one she's been trading late-night texts and secrets with since winter. This was supposed to be simple-one hot summer, no strings. Until Sam shows up on her doorstep, and something electric snaps the air between them. Now Sam is acting different, impossibly protective, and Murphy's not sure what's more dangerous: the way his eyes find her in a crowd, or the secrets he's hiding about the world they grew up in. With her twenty-first birthday on the horizon and the clock ticking down to August, Murphy's torn between the life she's built in Seattle and the wildfire thing sparking to life every time Sam looks at her. Add in a bickering little sister, a small town that never forgets, and a world where monsters and legends might be real, and Murphy's in over her head. This isn't Bella's story. Murphy's not waiting to be chosen-she's running straight at the storm, dragging Sam with her. And if fate wants a fight, she's not backing down.

Calla Jo Tucker was not made to be anyone's girl. She's a Southern witch with honey on her tongue and a curse stitched into her spine. After her mama's death at the hands of a vampire, she and her sharp-eyed Aunt Mavis run from the old magic, heading west to the only place left with protection strong enough to hold-La Push, Washington. Her aunt says it's safe. Calla doesn't believe in safe. Not when there's a boy with wildfire eyes watching her like she's already his. Paul Lahote has a temper, a reputation, and a smile that's gotten more girls in trouble than he can count. But when he sees Calla? Fate doesn't just pull. It snaps. She's his imprint. His match. His undoing. Too bad she can't stand him. They fight like wildfire and gasoline-snapping, biting, slinging insults with molasses in their voices and heat under their skin. He calls her lily. She calls him names that make grown men flinch. And every time they're near each other, something burns. But Paul's never begged before. Calla's never wanted anything more. And the line between hate and want? It's already gone to ash. He swore he'd never fall. She swore she'd never burn. Turns out, they were both liars.

In La Push, the forest remembers everything. Lark Liora Seabrook was raised knowing the old rules-the ones written in cedar smoke and saltwater, the ones the ancestors still watch from the dark. As the tribe's apprentice healer, she knows how to bless new wolves, how to steady shaking hands, how to listen when the land speaks back. She did not know she would be claimed. On the night Jacob Black shifts for the first time, fate reaches for her-and gets it wrong. The imprint binds him to her... but his heart belongs to someone else. What should have been a sacred joining becomes a quiet wound, one the whole pack pretends not to see. While Jacob chases a ghost named Bella Swan, Lark is left standing in the rain-marked, unwanted, still expected to endure. Enter Paul Lahote: volatile, dangerous, devastatingly beautiful. A wolf with too much anger, a reputation for wreckage, and no belief in forever. He was never meant to be gentle. Never meant to stay. And yet. What grows between Paul and Lark is not sanctioned. Not safe. Not foretold. It is heat and tenderness and choice-the kind of love that dares the old gods to answer back. As the pack turns uneasy and ancient laws begin to creak, Lark must decide what she believes in more: destiny, or devotion. Because loving Paul means risking everything-especially the fear that fate might steal him away the moment she finally feels whole. But the ancestors are watching. And they remember when love is brave. Some bonds are given. Others are earned. Publish date 12/28/25 #1-PaulLahote 12/30/25 #1- BellaBashing 12/30/25 #1- SamUley 12/31/25