He caressed my hair gently, his fingertips touching large chunks of silky strands, ❝I wanted to give you a chance to win and escape me. I couldn't wait anymore. I need you now.❞ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Los Angeles; known as the City of Angels. It is a city of opportunity where the stars illuminate, a city close to breathtakingly beautiful beaches and where swaying palm trees decorate the modern city. However, beneath it's façade, lays the city of the wild and corrupt. The City of Angels is a misnomer because its citizens' souls are all conquered under the prince of the Nether Realm; Daemon. All except for one. Celeste is a 17 year old girl hoping to ease her parents' financial burdens. She is the beacon of light and purity that draws Daemon to her. He reveled in her innocence because he would have another soul meant for heaven damned in his realm. Daemon proposes a deadly game to attain her soul with freedom to live as the prize. The rules of the game are now set and the players have been decided. However, as the game continues, a deadly love triangle occurs, and a potential war between heaven and hell looms. The game maker and his players might not be able to leave this game unscarred. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* #49 in Paranormal on 12/20/16 Copyright © 2015. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

"Light up my darkness," he murmured against her bare flesh. His fingers trailed up her arm, leaving a blazing fire beneath them. His lips pressed softly against her shoulder and her eyes fluttered closed, accepting his touch. "Let go and I'll take away all of the pain." She desperately wanted to free herself from the torture of the heat, of the shift, of the sadness, but she pushed his firm chest away from her. She yearned to finally fulfill her place among the divine. She desired to guide and protect the species. She wished to eliminate the Challengers. The longer she endured the pain, the more power she would attain to help her fulfill her responsibilities. To the men who watched her ascend, it looked as if she was interacting with thin air, but she knew he was there with her. She smiled softly at him, caressing his cheek. "My Darkness, let the pain fester within me. I crave it." * The Betrayal is a part of The Marking Trilogy and cannot be read as a stand-alone book. The Marking must be read first.* Cover by @Finding_Bria

NOW PUBLISHED ON AMAZON: SAMPLE AVAILABLE When you wake up with no memories whatsoever in a place you've never heard of with people you've never met - what do you do? Freak out? Try and retrace your steps? Pretend nothing's wrong? In the case of Charmeine, it was having a one-to-one with the Anti-Christ. You know, as one does. story one { ᵖᵃʳᵃⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ ᵐᵉᵉᵗˢ ʳᵒᵐᵃⁿᶜᵉ } ©@ᵏᵏᵉʸʷʳⁱᵗᵉˢ ᴬˡˡ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳˢ, ⁱⁿᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗˢ, ᵒʳᵍᵃⁿⁱˢᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠⁱᶜᵗⁱᵗⁱᵒᵘˢ. ᴺᵒ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ᵐᵃʸ ᵇᵉ ʳᵉᵖʳᵒᵈᵘᶜᵉᵈ ᵒʳ ᵗʳᵃⁿˢᵐⁱᵗᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵃⁿʸ ᶠᵒʳᵐ.

Official Trailer: https://youtu.be/H3VQ9T8SkXY https://twitter.com/SicilianMafiosa _______________✏ Whispers in New York is Book Two of the series. You must read Book One - Silence in New York to understand the story as it is a direct continuation. _______________✏ "Let's get this straight," the officer took a deep breath trying with every fibre in his body to contain his excitement. This wasn't the first time, no. This had happened many times and once push came to shove, he found most people were all talk. Especially women. They were always all talk. He glanced back behind him, the FBI agent casually leaning against the wall under the camera with one leg bent, his shoe placed flush against the wall with both hands in his pocket. Waiting. Patiently waiting for the officer to get down to business. "You're willing to testify to these accounts?" She licked her coral painted lips nervously. For a brief moment she thought of Salvatore and everything he had done for her. All the things he had promised her. All the moments they shared together. her eyes travelling from the officer, to the FBI agent and then to up to the camera. "Yes. I'll do whatever you need me to do." _______________✏

*Book one in the Hell's Company series* Lucifer was the brightest angel in Heaven, But in service of God, he was condemned to darkness. After thousands of years, the darkness took root inside him. ~ Ammi is a flame no one can extinguish Forged from God's holy fire to combat his darkness. A gift made for Lucifer. ~ He clucked his tongue disparagingly, shaking his head, "Tell me your full name." I groaned, running a hand down my face. "Fine. But I'm not explaining it to you." His face told me that I would if he wanted me to, but I soldiered on. "My full first name is Amirykal. Happy?" I muttered. His reaction took me completely by surprise. He blinked slowly at first, processing, then his face split into a wide grin and he threw back his head and laughed uproariously. I was hit with a wave of arousal at the sound of it-it was rumbling and husky, heating me up at the core. "What's so funny?" I grumbled, sure he was laughing at my expense. He looked down, that gorgeous grin still on his chiseled face, showcasing his lovely white teeth. "Oh, Kitten. Your name, Amirykal, do you know its meaning?" He asked, his voice sensual and erotic as he spoke my name. "No-I was found with that name." I answered struggling to keep my voice even as he slowly approached, like a predator would his prey. "Well, Love, I'll tell you. Amirykal means 'gift', or, more exactly, 'a gift from God'." He purred as he got closer and closer, so there was barely a foot between us. "And why is that funny?" I had a very hard time focusing on the conversation at hand with him at this proximity, using that lovely tone. "Because, Amirykal, I am Lucifer. And God made you to be mine." *HIGHEST RANKS*: #1 in Paranormal #2 in Supernatural #7 in Werewolf* *Takes many liberties on Biblical stories and has graphic violence and adult content. Please do not read if such things offend you.*

poetry by a person that's afraid of people. 12/23/15- #1 in poetry

Highest ranking: #6 in Poetry on February 17th 2018. Winner of EYHO Poetry Contest. Official poetry Instagram account: @trisha.poetry "Every soul has suffered one way or another. It's just a matter of how badly bruised yours is compared to others." Sometimes our voices won't be heard so all we have left is a pen to carve the masterpiece from the depth of our mind. A collection of original short poems and quotes from the thoughts that are buried deep within my mind. My voiceless thoughts. Poems with love, sadness, sufferings and heartbreaks.

Coleção de poesias sobre (des)amores, (des)venturas e sabores que desaguam em rios sem cores.

La desdicha de lo inesperado aguarda siempre, el consentimiento de lo nuevo tarda en volver. El desespero cobra la gota de lo inalcanzable y las emociones no reviven sin ella. ¿Por qué de la inseguridad nació el desborde de la paz?, después de todo, la monotonía siempre quedara y mi alma la abrazara.