He is without a pack, He is without a mate, And he is without a wolf, He is the sanctuary of brutality, a slaughter that waits for its turn. He is Killian, the beast built with strength, power, and chaos that yearns for a reign, not of an Alpha, but of a King meant to rule a bigger land. He is not a werewolf, but he is more. Mystery lies beneath his skin as the entirety of him becomes the root of all havoc, a weapon of war that is greater than the Moon can ever accomplish and beyond what she can create. But beneath the power he harbors, lay a weakness that he can never oppose, Valerie. {TW: Violence, Death, Sex} Completed: October 5, 2020 (UNEDITED)

Imagine the second you're born, a consultant removes you from your mother's grasp and runs a battery of genetic and physiological tests on you. Thirty minutes later they give you a score out of one hundred which denotes your level of perfection. If your score is above eighty and you work hard to maintain that score you will have a charmed life; well fed, well-rewarded, spoiled. But fall below eighty and you're labelled Flawed, and life will not be so kind. Hannah is adopted by a Flawed family when her birth parents choose their social standing over their daughter and endures a life of struggle, hunger and service. One day Hannah is escorted to the regional government office and told that the Consultant who delivered her, who labelled her Flawed got it wrong! Now, she is being relocated back to her birth parents, to live as one of the Ninety-Five- all medically and legally judged as perfect. Entering this new life Hannah has an impossible decision to make which puts not only hers, but the lives of everyone she cares about at great risk. "The Numbered- where no one wants to be number one". Authors notes: -This is a first draft of my story and will be edited soon. -2013 Began writing Flawed -2015 Watty Winner/ Named changed to The Numbered -2016 Completed The Numbered -2019 Optioned by eOne for development into a TV show.

A jolt. A small hitch in the rhythmic beating of my heart. Dèjà vu didn't even begin to describe it. ... My heart stopped, my breath jostled forward, shock rippling through my system. It happened again. For a few precious seconds my mind froze up and, together with my body, went into a complete lockdown. It was the same each time I saw him.

In a world where females are forced to be subservient and docile, seen only as objects, one female is on the run for her life. Daylin Farringhow is the famed 'feral' and said to be nothing more than a savage beast. While this fact serves to deter most males from ever choosing her as a consort, it proves to excite others at the prospect of taming her and bringing her to heel. Daylin is faced with the challenge of breaking free from her chains and escaping her cage, but risks losing herself and truly turning into the feral animal she is said to be. Will she manage to escape whole and unscathed, or will she become feral in order to gain her freedom?

The world is split in two by a fence separating the upper Class and the lower Lawless societies. Class are raised to hate Lawless, believing them to be dangerous and uncivilised, with the exception of Dove Amor. It's one thing when she begins to question the morals of Class and another when Sage Creed appears in her bedroom one night, holding a knife to her neck when he gets caught on the wrong side of the fence. *mature & language warning*

There are some absolute truths I believe in. You have to have principles, if you want to survive in this world. You need something to hold on to; to survive the bumps in the road life throws in your way. Call it what you want, but it's like there's a set of laws of physics my very own world operates on. I know who I am. My name is Anna Johnson. I am an elemental witch and my element is air. From the diary of Anna Johnson

They are born in the darkness, and they own it like no one else. Anna Johnson stays clear of vampires. She knows what they are capable of. As a witch of the air she is working for the Circle as a researcher, closing her eyes to that which lies in her past. Until one phone call changes everything.

Colors danced behind my eyes, until the world fell into a haze of dark mist. Black fissures of power within arm's reach. Mine. Magic slammed into me, endless and vast like a tidal wave coming in and crushing over my head. I took it, absorbed it, glutted myself on it because it felt good. No consequences. No pain.

Well, you could stare at a white wall until you were blue in the face, it would never be more than a white wall. The same was true for the master vampire. A vampire was a vampire was a vampire. Period. (Anna Johnson)

... for a moment I thought that everything was back to normal, that I was okay. But then it came crashing down on me. Blood was valuable. Blood was life. The loss of blood had a price. A high one.