Alias Grace Kindle

For centuries, witches have fallen victim to the cruel tradition of witch-hunting. Baila is their only hope at salvation but she destroys all chances the witches have to gain power and freedom by repeating the horrible mistake that started the witch hunt. Hunted and ashamed, Baila dives into more trouble by trespassing into werewolf territory where the ruthless lycan king reigns. When she faces him, she realises that stories of his brutality may just be stories and not the truth. Time is running out and thousands of witches are being slaughtered because of her mistake but Baila's plan to use the lycan king to save her people gets complicated when she finds herself falling. Will the lycan king catch her? If he does, all hell will break loose and every dying flame and hatred against lycans and werewolves will be kindled.

When Clara Davis accidentally switches suitcases at the airport, she expects an awkward exchange— not a gun, stacks of cash, and a stranger calling her Mrs. Vale. Lucien Vale, a cold, beautiful man with blood on his hands, insists she’s his wife—and that men are hunting her. Dragged into a world of covert missions and deadly secrets, Clara must live under an alias to survive. But the longer she stays by his side, the more she questions everything: Is Lucien her captor or her protector? Is this marriage fake—or fate? One suitcase, one lie, one love that could cost them both their lives.

A young teenage girl lost her mother in a suspicious manner, but unfortunately she loses her memory and doesn't remember a thing about her mother's death. By now she is a powerful, talented and a beautiful woman, but is still haunted by her nightmares. There is one thing about her, she never commits or when she does she keep that commitment till her death. What will happen when Ananya meets Veer in unwanted circumstances, falls in love with him and gets married to him, but Veer is a person who doesn't believe in love. Veer Raj Singh Oberoi a successful young businessman, richest man of the country who only loves two people in his life. His sister and his grandmother. For the world he is a dangerous and a ruthless business man who never loses. His is as cold as ice and scary as sea. Ananya Anahita Bajaj Oberoi, chief programmer of haynes cooperation, daughter of Anand Bajaj, a millionaire of the country. She is a strong, charming, and intelligent woman. A girl every man desires but can't have. Though she has a rough past, she is as warm as sunshine but can turn into fire if you dare to cross paths with her.

"Maybe I was destined to forever fall in love with people I couldn't have..." Grace was a soft touch, yet remained tough when the tough gets going. It was his guess that she would always forgive. She cleared her throat, gave another wink and sighed. "Laura said that's all part of moving on. But this love thing is hard to find, to forget nor keep." "True" Laurel replied. "Love is never supposed to hurt. It seems you high hopes on him". "Not really. I only hoped, but was totally wrong". "Don't you think it's for the better?" "Maybe". She said smiling. Right there, he knew he'd have to hold on to her. What do you think?

"Sign this, honey!" Grace said, rubbing her husband's head, the words clipped. She couldn't wait to run for her dear life, but first, she needed to run from him as fast as her legs would take her. It didn't matter that she was scared of the outcome, but she needed to run first, and she needed it fast. Finally, after she had gotten him to sign it, she did what she had been meaning to since forever, without looking back. A few days later, she was able to do just that, without problem because her now ex-husband had traveled out of the country, but now, it was left to her to stay hidden, if she wanted to enjoy her freedom.

On the day I rejected Isabelle Hale, Wall Street's newest golden girl, everyone thought I had lost my mind. She had everything: a Wharton degree, a national finance championship, a perfect family name, and a résumé polished enough to make doors open before she even knocked. But I knew what was hiding behind that name. Fifty years ago, her grandfather stole my grandmother's acceptance letter, her New York scholarship, and the future she had earned with her own hands. He used them to escape an Appalachian coal town with another woman, then built himself into a celebrated Ivy League professor who lectured rich students about ethics. My real grandmother, Grace Walker, was left behind in coal dust and shame. My mother grew up carrying the weight of that stolen life. They lifted me out anyway. I made it all the way to Manhattan, to a glass conference room at Northbridge Capital, where Isabelle sat across from me in a black suit tailored like victory. She thought her family name would protect her. She thought I would bow. Instead, I closed her file and said, "You didn't pass." By the next morning, they had fired me, dragged my name through the mud, and turned a press conference into my public trial. They forgot one thing. I didn't climb to the top of Wall Street to beg for a seat at their table. I came to take back every name, every chance, and every voice they stole from women like us.