Title: The Blood Moon Pact Genre: Paranormal Romance | Action | Thriller Plot Summary: When Selene Cross, an ordinary young woman, stumbles upon a secret war between ancient werewolf clans, she becomes the key to an age-old prophecy. The Blood Moon Pact, a sacred bond broken centuries ago, holds the power to restore balance between humans and werewolves-or doom them all. Pursued by a ruthless alpha, Lucian Draven, who believes she is his fated mate and the key to ultimate power, Selene is forced into hiding with Rowan Vale, the exiled alpha of a fallen pack seeking revenge against Lucian. As Selene's dormant powers awaken, she must decide: embrace her destiny as the last descendant of the Moonborn and unite the werewolf world, or risk the destruction of everyone she loves. Key Elements: A hidden war between rival werewolf clans A prophecy tied to the Blood Moon A strong-willed heroine discovering her supernatural lineage A love triangle between the ruthless alpha and the brooding outcast Dark secrets, betrayals, and shocking twists
The wind howled through the dense forest, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and pine. The moon, swollen and red, hung low in the night sky, casting an eerie glow over the treetops. Selene Cross tightened her jacket around her body as she hurried down the narrow dirt path, her breath visible in the crisp autumn air.
She wasn't supposed to be out this late. Her grandmother, a woman full of old tales and superstitions, had warned her to be home before the Blood Moon rose. But Selene had always been stubborn, dismissing the warnings as nothing more than folklore passed down through generations.
Now, she wasn't so sure.
A rustling in the underbrush made her stop in her tracks. Her pulse quickened. She turned, eyes scanning the darkness, but saw nothing beyond the shifting shadows.
"Probably just a deer," she whispered to herself, forcing a nervous chuckle.
Then, the growl came. Low, guttural, and too close.
Selene's stomach dropped. She took a cautious step back, her heart hammering in her chest. The stories her grandmother told her as a child came rushing back-tales of beasts that prowled under the Blood Moon, hunting those foolish enough to wander alone.
Another growl, this time accompanied by the unmistakable sound of heavy footfalls.
Selene ran.
Branches slapped against her arms as she sprinted down the path, her boots kicking up loose dirt. She didn't know where she was going-all she knew was that she had to get away.
A shadow moved in her peripheral vision. Too fast. Too big.
Terror clawed at her throat as she stumbled forward. The path was narrowing, the trees closing in around her. And then-
Pain.
A searing, unbearable pain ripped through her shoulder as something heavy collided with her, sending her sprawling to the ground. She barely had time to gasp before the weight pressed down on her back, pinning her to the cold earth.
Hot breath fanned against her neck, and she caught the scent of something wild-earthy, metallic, and unmistakably predatory. A snarl rumbled above her, vibrating through her bones.
Selene struggled, twisting beneath the force that held her down. Her fingers clawed at the dirt, desperate for something-anything-to use as a weapon. But before she could react, the weight lifted, and a new sound filled the night.
A vicious snarl, followed by the sharp crack of bones snapping.
Selene rolled onto her side just in time to see two massive wolves locked in battle. One was dark-furred, its eyes burning like molten gold. The other, slightly smaller but no less fierce, had silver-touched fur that gleamed under the moonlight.
They clashed with brutal force, teeth flashing, claws raking against each other's thick pelts. The air was thick with snarls, growls, and the sickening sound of flesh tearing.
Selene couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. She knew she should run, but her body refused to obey. Her vision blurred as the pain in her shoulder intensified, white-hot and unbearable. And then-
The world faded to black.
Kallie, a mute who had been ignored by her husband for five years since their wedding, also suffered the loss of her pregnancy due to her cruel mother-in-law. After the divorce, she learned that her ex-husband had quickly gotten engaged to the woman he truly loved. Holding her slightly rounded belly, she realized that he had never really cared for her. Determined, she left him behind, treating him as a stranger. Yet, after she left, he scoured the globe in search of her. When their paths crossed once more, Kallie had already found new happiness. For the first time, he pleaded humbly, "Please don't leave me..." But Kallie's response was firm and dismissive, cutting through any lingering ties. "Get lost!"
For as long as Emily can remember, she has wanted to overcome her shyness and explore her sexuality. Still, everything changes when she receives an invitation to visit one of the town's most prestigious BDSM clubs, DESIRE'S DEN. On the day she chose to peruse the club, she noticed three men, all dressed in suits, standing on the upper level, near the railing. Despite her limited vision, she persisted in fixating on them. Their towering statues belied the toned bodies concealed by their sharply tailored suits-or so she could tell. The hair of two of them was short and dark, and the third had light brown-possibly blond-hair that reached the shoulders. The dark, crimson background incised their figures, exuding an air of mystery and strength. They stood in stark contrast to the unfiltered, primal energy that pulsed through the club. Shocked by the desires these men aroused in her, she was disappointed to learn that they were masters seeking a slave to divide and conquer. She couldn't afford the fee, and she also realized that they were outside her league. Emily hurriedly left the club, feeling disappointed and depressed, unaware that she had also caught the group's attention. A world of wicked pleasure, three handsome men. Over the years, they have lived a life of decadence, their lavish lair serving as a stage for their most sinister desires. But despite the unending parade of willing subjects, one woman sticks out. A mysterious stranger with white porcelain skin and a killer body, a slave, a name with no address, the first lady to attract their eye and they will go to any length to obtain her no matter the consequences.
Mia's life is spiraling out of control. Abandoned by her mother, bullied mercilessly at school, and thrown into a household of four dangerously attractive stepbrothers, she's desperate to find her footing. "You look absolutely edible," Sean growled, his eyes devouring her. Mia felt a rush of heat between her thighs "Oh, you think so?" she purred, turning to face him. She reached out and traced her fingers along the ribbon that wrapped around his waist. "Well, I've been waiting for this all day. And I'm starving." Sean's smile grew into a predatory grin. "Then let us feast," he said, and in a flash, the ribbon fell away, exposing his rock-hard length. He stepped closer, and Mia felt the warmth of his breath on her face as he whispered, "You're going to take every inch of us tonight, aren't you?" With Rolex's teasing smirk and Sean's quiet, hot stares, Mia doesn't know where to turn-or who to trust. Every glance, every touch leaves her breathless, confused, and craving more than she should. Will Mia survive their games, or will she lose herself in a dangerous world of secrets, seduction, and forbidden desire? One house. Four brothers. Endless temptation.
Iris grew from an orphaned child to the adopted daughter of the Stewart family at age ten, finding warmth in her nominal uncle Vincent's kindness. Seven years later, she became his secret lover. When Vincent's engagement was announced, gossip spread about the notorious playboy CEO finally settling down. But only Iris knew the extent of his cold, two-faced nature. Iris fell for Vincent and, through tears, begged, "Marry me," only to be met with his frosty refusal. Defeated, she accepted a lawyer's proposal, sparking public excitement. Then, on her wedding day, Vincent pleaded desperately, "Don't marry him…"
Betrayed by her mate and sister on the eve of her wedding, Makenna was handed to the ruthless Lycan Princes as a lover, her indifferent father ignoring her plight. Determined to escape and seek revenge, she captured the interest of the three Lycan princes, who desired her exclusively amid many admirers. This complicated her plans, trapping her and making her a rival to the future Lycan queen. Entwined in jealousy and vindictiveness, could Makenna achieve her vengeance in the intricate dance with the three princes?
"You're a creepy bastard." His eyes smolder me and his answering grin is nothing short of beautiful. Deadly. "Yet you hunger for me. Tell me, this appetite of yours, does it always tend toward 'creepy bastards'?" **** Widower and ex-boss to the Mafia, Zefiro Della Rocca, has an unhealthy fixation on the woman nextdoor. It began as a coincidence, growing into mere curiosity, and soon, it was an itch he couldn't ignore, like a quick fix of crack for an addict. He didn't know her name, but he knew every inch of her skin, how it flushed when she climaxed, her favourite novel and that every night she contemplated suicide. He didn't want to care, despising his rapt fascination of the woman. She was in love with her abusive husband. She was married, bound by a contract to the Bratva's hitman. She was off-limits. But when Zefiro wanted something, it was with an intensity that bordered on madness. He obsessed, possessed, owned. There'd be bloodshed if he touched her, but the sight of blood always did fascinate him. * When Susanna flees from her husband, she stumbles right into the arms of her devilishly handsome neighbour with a brooding glare. He couldn't stand her, but she needed him, if she was ever going to escape her husband who now wanted her dead. Better the devil you know than the angel you don't. She should have recalled that before hopping into Zefiro's car and letting him whisk her away to Italy. Maybe then, she wouldn't have started an affair with him. He was the only man who touched her right, and the crazy man took no small pains in ensuring he would be the last.