Ice Got Novels & Stories

For three years, Emerie had been married to Allan, the son of an Alpha. Allan had always believed it was Emerie who drugged him, forcing him into the marriage. Determined to divorce her, he chose to be with her sister Jolene instead. But what he didn’t know was that Emerie was already terminally ill when she left him. When Allan finally uncovered the truth and desperately searched for her—could he still win her back?

Love was never part of Ophelia Grace’s master plan. Not after Alessandre Marcello shattered her trust and left her heart in ruins six years ago. She’s rebuilt her world since then. Now she’s flawless, powerful, and untouchable. But some ghosts don’t stay buried, especially not the kind that still haunt her dreams. Alessandre had it all: power, prestige, and the woman he never deserved. Then he lost everything—his company, his reputation, and her. Now a shadow of the man he once was, he’s convinced he deserves the emptiness he lives in. Until fate forces their paths to cross again. She's colder. He's broken. But the fire between them never died. They say cheaters never change but Alessandre is willing to burn for redemption. For forgiveness. For her. And this time, he won’t let go… even if it destroys them both.

ICE: The Alpha’s Unwanted OMEGA BOOK 3 "I told you to stay off my ice, Parker. The next time you cross the red line into my territory, I won't just break your skates. I'll break your wolf." Ethan Carter is the undisputed King of the Mysticfall winter league—a brutal, dominant Alpha who rules the arena and his pack with an iron fist. He needs a political alliance with the powerful Bennett family to secure his territory's hunting rights before the full moon freezes the valley solid. What he doesn't need is the intoxicating, infuriating presence of Collins Parker back in his den. Collins is a fierce, defiant omega from the northern hills who refuses to kneel to any captain. He thought his bond with Ethan was a sacred vow spoken to the moon. Instead, he got a one-way ticket to exile and a shattered heart when Ethan chose a blood-contract wedding with Chloe Bennett over their mate-bond. Driven away to the frozen border cabins of Skydrivee with two young pups and his pride torn to ribbons, Collins swears he is done chasing a ghost. He scrubs Ethan's scent from his furs, sharpens his steel blades, and prepares to run the winter wilderness alone. But a true Alpha’s mark can never be fully erased. "You sold your body to a rival house to save your franchise, Ethan. Don't look at my pups. Don't come near my bed. You chose your altar. Now sleep on it."

I am finally pregnant with a child after being married to Anthony Johnson, my husband, who has azoospermia, for five years. Emily Johnson, my 30-year-old unemployed sister-in-law who lives off her family, tears the ultrasound scan apart and angrily accuses me of carrying someone else's baby. She then takes out a notebook packed with detailed records of every time Anthony and I have slept together since we got married. "In the past three months, the only time you slept with Anthony was three weeks ago; other than that, he never laid a finger on you! If you're over a month pregnant, then there's no way that baby belongs to the Johnson family!" I feel incredibly angry at the thought of being eavesdropped on all this time, so I seek out Anthony and demand an explanation. He merely looks at me with a pained expression and says, "You should just produce the evidence if you're innocent, Madison—just like Emily did." I laugh out of sheer exasperation. If they want evidence, then the baby I'm carrying is the best evidence there is.

My husband—one of the top elites of Raventon Street, cold and ruthless to his core—keeps a stray orphan girl he rescued from the slums hidden in an apartment. Rowena Fletcher is clean and fragile, like a newborn creature untouched by the world. And somehow, that innocence softens something in Micah Benson—a man who's spent years clawing his way through the brutal wilderness of capital. He thinks this secret game of his goes unnoticed, but I find out anyway. At the Benson family's charity gala, I smash his favorite antique vase in front of everyone. He doesn't even flinch as he simply signals the bodyguards to clean up the mess and then hands me a divorce agreement. "Sign it, Sabrina. The penthouse in Ashbourne City is yours." I burn the divorce agreement—and that's when he finally shows his true colors. He freezes all my accounts and launches a hostile takeover of my gallery. On the night the storm hits, I get a call from the hospital. My sister, Roberta Slater, has been in a car crash—she needs emergency surgery. In the security footage, he stood there, watching coldly. "Sign the papers, or start planning a funeral." I dropped to my knees and slammed my forehead against the floor, blood trailing down my face as I begged, "Micah, please… don't…" A long, flat beep echoed from the other end of the line, slicing through the sound of rain. Then a voice on the line says, "We did everything we could." However, I have gone back in time—to the day I first found out about Rowena. This time, I no longer cry. Instead, I plan my divorce on my own terms. I call Valebrook Bank that same night and begin preparing for a quiet disappearance. But the moment I truly vanish from his world, Micah loses his mind.

During the award ceremony at our annual dinner, my boss, Hank Reid, suddenly announced an impromptu addition to the agenda. “Annual department competition! The department that ranked last has to come up and receive a little award of motivation!” The screen lit up. They scrolled through all the departments’ results. The sales department got first place, the operations department got second place, and the marketing department got third place. However, there was nothing from the administration department. That was because the administration department did not have KPIs. Hank smiled at us. “Let’s welcome our colleagues from the administration department to come up and receive their awards!” Two of my colleagues carried a whole basket of brooms onto the stage. Everyone was laughing. “You should sweep away your bad luck from last year. Let’s hope you won’t get last place again next year!” Hank personally passed the brooms to all of us. Cameras flashed as people took photos of us with their phones. The sales department was laughing the loudest. “Finally, the administration department has some recognition!”

It's my first day undercover at my future husband's dessert shop, and chaos walks in with fake lashes and two-inch nails. "I want an ice cream. Heated." I paused. "Just checking... You want your ice cream hot?" She gave me a look like I'd failed kindergarten. "Yes. Hot ice cream. Are you slow?" Deep breath. Zen mode. Customer-first service smile. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Ice cream has to stay frozen, or it just turns into—well... milk. If you want something warm, we have hot tea or coffee." "I'm pregnant!" she screeched. "Pregnant women crave weird things! Plus, my doctor said I can't eat anything cold! Are you trying to kill my baby and me? Is that what this is?!" People started turning their heads. Fantastic. A whole audience. I kept my voice low. "Ma'am, I can refund you." She suddenly smacked the counter, knocking the scanner sideways. Her nails shot past my face like tiny knives. "What kind of attitude is that?! A pathetic cashier talking back to me? I'll call my husband and get you fired!" Then, she leaned in like she was about to reveal a royal bloodline. "Guess what? I'm the boss's wife." I blinked. If that was true, I really needed to stop thinking about helping my boyfriend to open 3,000 franchise stores.

Bored of having nothing to do at home, I hide my identity and apply for a job as a designer at the company my son, Jonathan Grady, runs. A few months later, I'm informed that the company wants to optimize its workforce, and I'm the first to get axed. "Why?" "Because you're menopausal. You can't get pregnant." Hearing that makes me scoff. What kind of absurd reason is that? "A designer uses her brains to do her job, no? When did a womb become so important?" I point at Sasha Johnson, who'd been hired before me and was now sitting at her desk, snacking on popcorn instead of working. "Her line compositions are still a complete mess, and she spends all of her time watching TV shows in the office. But just because she's pregnant, she's not included in the company's layoffs?" Fiona Lewis, the HR manager, looks at me as though I'm an idiot. "How can an old hag like you, who still has to work, compare yourself to her? She's pregnant with the boss' baby, you know. She's the future Mrs. Grady! The money we save from having to pay your salary can go toward buying her prenatal supplements." I freeze in shock. Did my son knock up one of his employees? But he told me he didn't want to have any kids!

On our third wedding anniversary, I brought a gift to my husband’s office. Walking past the secretary's suite, I stopped dead. A king-size bed had been set up inside. A young woman in a designer dress was sprawled across it, a handheld game console in her hands, surrounded by imported snacks of every variety. "Kevin, the lunch you ordered yesterday was pre-packaged meals. Marcus and I both felt sick after eating it. Today, make sure it's from The Palace Hotel." Kevin -- my husband's personal assistant -- bowed and scraped before her, his face a mask of obsequious flattery. "Mrs. Thorne, please don't worry. Mr. Thorne made it very clear -- everything should be tailored to your preferences and the baby's. He knows you love the chef at The Palace Hotel, so he set up a standing VIP account for you. Anything you want, anytime." She was Mrs. Thorne? Then what exactly was I? My brow furrowed. I glanced down at the wedding ring I'd worn for years. The girl beamed, radiant. "For the baby's arrival, my husband is throwing a lavish yacht party. Every important person in New York is getting an invitation. I want the whole world to know that I'm the love of his life, and that our son will be blessed by the most powerful people before he's even born. The champagne and flowers must be the finest available -- no budget limit. Our child is going to have the best of everything from day one." I stared at the gentle swell of her belly and called my father. "Dad, that divorce agreement you drew up three years ago -- you can have the lawyers send it over now."

“Easy baby, let me show you how it's done.” I flipped him onto his back and settled between his thighs. His eyes widened, that pretty blush spreading down his neck as I pushed back inside him. “Ahh… go slow,” His head fell back into the pillow, his fingers clutching my chest. I rolled my hips in smooth strokes, letting him feel every inch. Calix arched his back, soft moans spilling from his lips. “You like that?” “It feels so good…” He breathed, “Slower… please,” He begged. I slowed down immediately, watching him squirm beneath me. Then his hands grabbed my waist, pulling me harder against him. “Faster,” He pleaded. “Noah, faster—” *** *** *** “I will tell your father you’re a disgusting faggot!” Caught chest-to-chest with Calix Sinclair on his bed, Noah Kensington’s fiancée threatened to ruin him… forcing Noah to chase Calix out into the pouring rain in the middle of the night. Now engaged to Ariana, Noah still can’t stay away. He sends Calix a text, demanding they meet. And what happens next is the same dangerous game all over again— heated touches, desperate kisses, and raw need. And just like before, Noah betrays him the second his fiancée appears. Calix Sinclair is the captain of Northcott University’s hockey team, but when the rink is sold and his scholarship is pulled, he is forced to make a deal with the one man he hates the most: move into Noah’s luxurious estate, become his private training partner, and belong to the Ice King for six months. But behind closed doors, their rivalry explodes into a dark, addictive obsession. Calix swears he’s straight. He swears he hates Noah Kensington. So why does he keep letting the man who destroys him come back for more?