A And D Novels & Stories

Violet's world was shattered when she emerged from prison after three long years, only to discover her husband Loenard had moved on with his life. He'd married his childhood best friend Francess, and the ultimate betrayal - they'd claimed violet's own son as their own. The pain and anger ignited a fire within violet, fueling her desire for revenge. But fate had other plans. She was kidnapped by a mysterious figure from her past, hell-bent on taking down Loenard and his family. It seems like the universe was smiling ok Violet until things began to get complicated.

Thor and I grew up together—we were the definition of childhood sweethearts. We'd promised to attend the same university, graduate, and marry right after senior year. Everyone envied us. They said we were a perfect match, destined for a lifetime together. And I believed that too. I truly thought I'd spend the rest of my life with him. Until the final semester of our senior year in high school, when a new transfer student named Lina joined our class. At first, the two barely spoke. But as they grew familiar, their bond deepened in ways I could no longer ignore. He started staying after school to tutor her, bringing her breakfast every morning. When she was upset, he'd take her for a drive along the coast. If she craved Italian steak, he'd have fresh cuts flown in. Even during her period, he'd quietly prepare everything she needed. I was furious. I confronted him, argued with him, and even threatened to break up. The first time I said it, he thought I was joking and coaxed me out of my anger. The second time, he dismissed it as another tantrum and tried different ways to please me. The third time, he broke down—standing outside my house in the pouring rain all night, half kneeling before me, begging for forgiveness. Again and again, I tried to leave, and every time, he refused to let me go. Yet with each reconciliation, something in him shifted. He started taking me for granted, assuming I would always come back. His patience wore thin. His apologies turned perfunctory. Even when he came to make peace, there was no sincerity left in his voice. So I said it for the hundredth time, and that was the last. That was the moment I finally gave up on him.

My name is Clara Kelly. I was born in Brooklyn, into an Irish-American cop’s family. My father spent his whole career walking a beat out of the 84th Precinct. My mother volunteered at the parish. I was the first girl on our block to get into Columbia Law. The year I graduated, I was volunteering at a charity gala. I picked up the wrong glass of wine and ended up dumping it down the front of a man’s Brioni suit. That man was Adrian Francesco Moretti. Fourth-generation Don of the Moretti Family of New York, and one of the five families of Cosa Nostra. He chased me for four years. I said no six times. The seventh time, he stood outside my law firm in the rain until three-fifteen in the morning. I married him. Two decades in, he’d handed me the keys to the entire Moretti Family. In our world they called me “the Irish Donna,” a woman with no Italian blood who somehow held the seat. Childless by choice, the two of us. Famously in love. Until that Wednesday afternoon, when my college roommate of twenty years, my best friend Vivian Sinclair, walked into my living room with a five-year-old boy. She said the boy was Adrian’s son. She said that five years ago, she’d taken a used condom out of the wastebasket in my upstairs master bedroom, kept it frozen for three years, and done IVF. She said she was the real mother of the Moretti heir. She was the real Donna Moretti. “Be smart. Pack your bags and walk out. You might even get to keep your life.” “You’re barren. The Moretti Family doesn’t need you.” I looked at the woman I’d called my best friend for half my adult life. I didn’t say a word. She thought she was holding the winning card. What she didn’t know was that she’d just stepped onto a board Adrian and I had been laying for twenty years. I needed exactly one sentence to shatter every piece of the Donna fantasy she’d spent five years building.

She’d escaped me once. She’d not do it again. I am the brother of the Alpha of the Asara Pack. I did everything she asked of me. She was a queen up on her throne. I was her Captain of the Guard. Her secret assassin killing anyone who'd threaten her. I had declared my intent to claim her as my mate. And she had fled. Like the coward she is. Still she went ahead and seduced me, bidding me do whatever vile thing she commanded. Now she claims to rule this kingdom. However, her people are starving and her new fiancé is to blame. But will she hear a word of it? Of course not! Well, I've found a way to make her listen. To no longer allow her to deny what she really is. To rip her from her sanctuary amongst the humans. It's high time she learn a she-wolf’s place in this realm. She needs a real king, and it won't be that sniveling lord with designs on her. It's going to be me. She’ll learn I'm no longer hers to command. She is mine.

After eight years together, I took a hit for my surgeon boyfriend. Milton Woodard vowed I could ask for anything. Everyone assumed I'd seize the chance to propose, locking him down for good. Instead, I looked him in the eye and said, "Let's break up." Then I walked away without a backward glance. Milton smirked, betting with his buddies that I'd come crawling back in under three days, calling me a desperate lapdog chasing his attention. He was dead wrong because I'd been reborn. In my last life, I proposed to him and won. Overwhelmed by the news, his first love threw herself off a rooftop and killed herself. Milton unleashed his grief-fueled rage on me. On our wedding night, he slashed my face and locked me in a dank, claustrophobic basement. When I got pregnant, he force-fed me supplements until the baby grew too big for me to deliver. I hemorrhaged, torn apart, and died in agony on the birthing table. Now, reborn on the day I saved his life, I was done playing his fool.

Leon Santoro's ex-wife and their daughter pushed me down the stairs. I lost the baby. Leon came to see me in the hospital. He sat beside the bed, his expression as composed as always, and said, "She's a child. She didn't know what she was doing. I'm sorry you had to go through this. I apologize for Rosalie." "That's it?" I asked. "Just an apology?" He turned to look at me. "What else do you want? Money? Stock?" "I can't exactly make Rosalie pay with her life for what happened to your child." Your child. Not our child. So he truly never cared about the baby I was carrying. He'd made a promise to his ex-wife Giselle: Rosalie would be his only child. When I told him I was pregnant, he'd barely reacted. Just a shrug and a flat "I know," like I'd told him the weather. Thinking about it now, I looked at him and asked quietly, "You're relieved, aren't you? Now that the baby's gone."

I was a famed assassin. She knew my name. Everyone did. Feral. Death's very own hound. But she was the one that'd left our hut in the dead of night. And I wasn't one to forget something like that. I'd gone looking for her when she left things the way she did. She was nowhere to be found then. Yet here she is now. Standing in my tavern. With her cloak in a pile around her ankles and offering me her body in plain view of every rogue in here. Bold move. But she was nothing if not that. She thought I'd give in and said yes to this venture to rescue someone she loved because of some misplaced honor. Not in the least! I said yes because I intend to wreak vengeance on her, for what she did to me. Every chance I get, I'm going to make her miserable. And I'm going to take great pleasure in doing so. Welcome to my world Warrioress. Where the price of vengeance comes much higher than a bit o' coin.

At his Alpha succession ceremony, Damien seated his childhood sweetheart in the Luna's chair, then dropped a mate bond severance agreement in front of me. “Once the bond's dissolved, I'll give you money. Enough to live comfortably for the rest of your life. One condition: stay away from Serena.” I signed without hesitation but I didn't take a cent. “Don't worry. I'll disappear from your lives for good.” That night I went home, took out the silver knife I'd already prepared, and dragged it across my wrist. Twenty-five years ago I'd crossed into this world of werewolves. For twenty-five years I'd worked to win over three protagonists, and every last attempt had failed. The Moon Goddess had told me: once this body died, I could go home, back to my parents. I lay on the cold floor and waited for the end. As my mind went hazy, I felt no fear, only a strange, giddy relief. And right as I was slipping away, I thought I heard someone screaming my name.

In my last life, the System let my parents swap my SAT scores with my twin's. I was always top of my class—until I magically bombed with a 640. Amelia Everton? Scored a perfect 1520, like she'd earned it. The internet went nuts. Everyone called me a fraud. My parents played innocent on TV, said I'd been cheating for years. Every college ghosted me. Then they kicked me out. I froze to death alone. Not this time. I'm taking it all back—every last thing they stole.

Jessica Harper has t⁠he lif⁠e most women dream of—a loving husband, Co​nrad, and a spirited six-y‍e⁠ar-old s‍o‍n. Her da⁠ys‍ are filled with s‌tability, comfort, and‌ t‍he quiet satisfaction⁠ of a⁠ life well-lived. But the pas​t ha​s a way o‍f re​sur‌facing. W​hen Stefan—the man who once ignited her wild⁠est desires—suddenly reappears, old memori​es an​d forbidde⁠n c‍ravings thr‌eat⁠en t‍o⁠ unravel the life Jess​ica ha​s built. As she navigates l⁠ing‌erin‌g passion, marital loyal⁠ty, and the c‌ompl‌exities of desire, ev⁠ery choic⁠e becomes⁠ a d⁠a​ngerous balancing act. Conr‍a​d senses the⁠ s​t‌orm⁠ brewing, and when s‍ecrets, o⁠bsessions, and u‌nexpected e‍nco‌unters c‍ollide, Jessic‍a must confront the‌ truths she’s buri‌ed and‍ decide what sh⁠e‍ truly wants. Can love surv⁠ive temp​ta​tion, or will the past destroy everything?