"You did die. Otherwise you would not be alive now."
Karen Rozsa "Rose" used to be normal. On Prom night a terrible car accident ends four lives closest to her. Her own life, however, just began... when she is unknowingly revived by magic. Delved into the underworld of dark creatures wasn't enough. Several years after 'surviving' the car accident, she learns that she is the heir of a long line of demon hierarchy, and there are legions set out to capture or kill her, for whatever unknown reason. Now she must choose to accept the responsibility of her Demon Heritage and save it from eternal ruin, or return to the modern non-magical world as normal Karen Rozsa, forsaking the bond and fate of a doomed clan.
Rose - Proper noun, pronoun, verb. 'A symbol of romance, ascending to a higher pitch, a flower for the dead...'
This tale is that of a particular Rose, a Princess blossoming to full fruition.
One demon princess, two demon lords. A Demon King of the Underworld and his rival, a Shape-Shifter Lord, both enticing male leaders vie for her affection.
~Asher, the King, stern, subtle, and traditionally courting Rose, trying to convince her to remain underground.
~Marcelle, the Lord, out-spoken, flamboyant, and care-free, appealing to Rose's modern, non-magical life, attempting to lure her away from the Demon hierarchy.
Both males strong and enticing. Both spinning her world, to turn her wheel of fate in one direction or the other.
Which world will she choose? And which man?
Lunas are revered. Lunas are loved. Lunas are protected.
Chosen by Alpha of the Southern River Border, Isabel is none of these.
Isabel cleans herself thoroughly, meticulously, trying to get rid of the soot that covers her soul.
Lars is a hybrid, a wolf shapeshifter with Waverider powers.
He is quite skilled with water spells, but his core freezes when he discovers that his true mate has already been claimed by another.
Lars is willing to fight for what is his to revere, love and protect.
Until the ghosts appear.
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"But I still have to do one thing today. Strip," he orders, and I stare at him in shock, watching him swiftly remove his jacket and t-shirt.
"What? No!" I cross my arms tighter on my chest, but then instantly regret my audacity. If he's anything like his predecessor, my protest will just spur him on.
"Suit yourself," he shrugs and his pants fly over the other clothes piled at his feet.
Standing tall in front of me, he speaks in the low voice that effortlessly controls the minds of his wolves: "I have no intention of touching you, Isabel. But my beast fought for his mate and he will run with her tonight. Shift."
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This story contains mature content and triggering themes. Intended only for the 18+ readers.
~130 000 words
Cover photo(s): Linda Kazares/Darius Cotoi via Unsplash.