What Is American Hollow By Iver B. Neumann About?

Monsters were hunted. Slaughtered. Erased. Nyxara survived by becoming no one. No power. No past. No truth.Until Rowan Varkas finds her. The last alpha doesn’t trust easily—but he knows she’s lying. He can feel it in the way her heart stutters. In the way her scent calls to something ancient inside him. He watches her. Tests her. Keeps her close.Because whatever she’s hiding… belongs to him now. But Nyxara’s secret isn’t just dangerous.It’s forbidden. Powerful. Fatal.And when Rowan finally uncovers the truth about what she is—He won’t have to choose between claiming her…or killing her.He’ll have to decide whether she’s worth destroying the world for.

After Varethkaal is sealed, Clara and Ashani uncover evidence that WildWood was only one node in a network of ancient, sleeping powers. The roots of these dark entities—known to the Yanuwah as the Deep Ones—spread beneath ley lines and forgotten places. Now, something has begun to stir in the northwest, near a coastal town where strange weather, disappearances, and madness are creeping inland. Emily’s spirit lingers, tethered to the new node… and a child, born near the ruins, may carry a seed of the old darkness.

Samantha Hale thought she had it all — a perfect marriage, a thriving career as a software engineer, and the kind of life that looked flawless from the outside. Until she discovers her husband is cheating on her… with her sister. And that her sister is pregnant. Betrayed. Homeless. Broke. One night, Samantha enters a radio contest on a whim — and wins an old Victorian mansion in a forgotten countryside town called Willow Creek. It’s supposed to be her new beginning. But the house has a secret buried deep beneath its foundations. When she unlocks the door to the basement, Samantha finds two stone coffins — and accidentally awakens Lucien Varyn, the long-lost King of Vampires, and his enigmatic right hand, Sebastian. Lucien is dark, magnetic, and far too dangerous. Sebastian is cold, calculating, and hiding something behind his icy loyalty. Both are bound to her by an ancient prophecy neither of them expected to come true. As strange events unfold and old powers stir, Samantha must decide who to trust — and who to love — before the house claims her soul… Because in Willow Creek, under the glow of the Blood Moon, the past isn’t dead. It’s just waiting to be awakened.

When Ivy moves to a small town for a fresh start, she meets her neighbor, Rafe, who quickly becomes her friend. Little does Ivy know, Rafe is a werewolf, and as Ivy gets to know him and his family, she finds herself falling in love with him. Unfortunately, Ivy begins to realize that their relationship may be doomed because of their different backgrounds and secret werewolf heritage. Can Ivy and Rafe overcome their differences and find a way to make their relationship work?

The carousel malfunctioned unexpectedly. My daughter was pulled into the machinery and died on the spot. I survived by sheer luck, but my groin was crushed beyond repair. My wife, Jody Parker, tore apart the entire amusement park. After refusing any settlement, she dragged dozens of staff members who had mishandled the equipment to court. She even dug our daughter's grave with her bare hands and nearly cried herself blind from grief. To help me recover from both emotional and physical trauma, she spent a fortune hiring a well-educated male nurse to care for me. Six months later, I was discharged early, hoping to move on from the past—only to accidentally find her and the male nurse naked together on a swing. "Jody, you crushed your husband's manhood and forsook your daughter's life. Am I really that important to you?" "Of course. Only with her dead and Sam crippled will he love our child without limits. Once our baby is born, Sam can take care of it. He's so gentle and attentive—he'll raise our little one to be perfectly well-behaved." My mind went blank. My blood ran cold. My daughter's death. The nightmares that tormented me every night. All of it had been orchestrated by Jody. Since she hated my existence so much, I would make sure she never saw me again.

By the fifth year of my marriage to Noah Lester, everyone insisted that I, Emma Newman, was his eternal muse. But I knew the truth. Behind my back, Noah cycled through a parade of fresh-faced, eager lovers. He even flaunted them at social gatherings, swapping one for another with shameless ease. When friends teased him—"Didn’t you swear Emma was the love of your life? Why the revolving door of mistresses?"—he’d just laugh, arms slung around his latest conquests. "Once you’ve caught your muse the glow fades. Give me someone new and tender any day—at least they keep things exciting." So I began plotting my escape. What Noah never realized was that I had grown tired of him, too. Tired of this life, of these performances. I was done.