Her Highness Amber Rousseaux is a princess by day, and a vampire hunter by night. She lives for her kingdom, and that means elimntaing it from the plague of vampires. But what will she do when she stumbles upon Drew Bronimir--a roguish bad-boy vampire, who claims to be her mate? Life has never been easy. But now, it was on the brink of impossible.

She lay on her bed, blood seeping through her skin, a fractured rib. She knew there would be no doctor, no way for anyone to find out. She knew she would not be saved. From the outside, Isabelle Thompson had the perfect family. A protective brother, a hard-working father and a nurturing mother. Everyone knew who they were, and everyone knew they wouldn't kill a fly. But they had a secret, and big fat juicy one too. Isabelle was always quiet. She never spoke, she always wore dark clothing, and she had no friends. It was easier that way. No one would find out, no one knew her. Until a bright sparkle of Adam Black came fluttering into her life. Always remember: 'Stay hidden, and remain unseen.' - (Trigger Warning) All rights reserved to Elyse-ri © 2017 Completed Happy reading :)

"You're atheist," I remind him. "You don't believe in god." "I believe in you," He murmurs, letting the cigarette hang from his lips. "I believe in whatever you believe." He says, letting the confession roll off his tongue as if it were that simple. As if god, the devil, heaven, hell-as if none of it really had meaning to him. "That's not how it works," I mutter as we walk down a few more alleyways-the city of Manhattan coated in a light blanket of snow. Henry Vitiello had never had anything to pray for, that is, until he met me-the only thing that had ever opened his mind up to the possibility of religion "Isn't it?" He argues, taking the cigarette by his middle and pointer finger before blowing the smoke out. "I'II dip my hands in holy water if it means I could touch you." "You'd probably burn." 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, the reaper. He's a prick. An asshole. A pretentious son of a bitch. He's not perfect. He's not even decent. But he's hers. She could be a bottle labeled poison but he was an alcoholic, and he had drunk her empty. Now he was hungover. 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, the healer. She's known to be the perfect good girl, with perfect grades and a perfect life with a perfect family. They didn't know that behind the gated doors of their billion dollar estate, she was strapped down to a chair every night and picked apart just to be put back together in time for supper. 𓆩♡𓆪 star-crossed; adjective (of a person or a plan) thwarted by bad luck. 'star-crossed lovers' and that, they were. So they fucked under those very stars that tried so desperately to break them apart. 𓆩♡𓆪 ‼️DISCLAIMER ‼️ BOOK REFERENCES TO MARA DYER, SHATTER ME, MIND FUCK, ETC ARE ALL INTENTIONAL SO DONT BE RUDE. AS FOR TRIGGER WARN