Silence Vow Novels & Stories

“Are you sure about this, Kabir?” Ayaan asked. “Yes.” “Dad won’t be happy if he gets a hint of what you are doing,” he said again. “He won’t be happy with me anyway,” Kabir said, taking a long drag of his cigarette before crushing it under his shoes. His emerald orbs were burning with a rage that could destroy the world. “And it was supposed to be him instead of me doing what was correct,” he said, looking out of the window. “What if you are wrong?” Ayaan asked. The moment Kabir turned around and looked directly into him, Ayaan straightened his back and said, “Her details are there in the file.” “What about other arrangements?” Kabir asked while glancing at the file. “Ready.” “Good,” Kabir said, opening the file and looking at a girl’s picture, “we will meet soon, Ziniya."

Born to meet. Fated to love. "Listen to the silence. And you shall find the answer to your heart." When Clover Hon sensed somebody turning on the black van she was hiding beside, she immediately slid in sneakily without giving it much a thought. The only thing she knew was that she gotta escape. She was never going to continue being a sex slave. Never! But whose van was it? Did she really escape from trouble?

She caught her fiancé in bed with her sister, on their wedding day. In a bold act of revenge, she stepped into the arms of his younger uncle and instantly became his “mistress.” But this wasn’t just a marriage of spite, it was a partnership between two cunning minds. She was a quick-witted little fox, and, the uncle, was a seasoned old fox. Together, they were unstoppable… and anyone who dared to play games with them was bound to lose.

In the tenth year of my diagnosis with selective mutism, my mother decided it was time to bring home a little brother for me from an orphanage. Her eyes immediately landed on a boy in the back row, but the head of the orphanage opposed without hesitation. "Ms. Lane, this kid has been nothing but trouble since he was small. Just two days ago, he made an old man on crutches play goalie. If you take him home, your life will never be peaceful!" I looked on without the slightest interest. My mother, however, was exhilarated. Pointing at the boy, she declared excitedly, "Then, he's exactly the one I want!" And suddenly, lines of bullet comments scrolled before me. 'The mom cracks me up. Her eyes practically sparkled like spotlights.' 'Our brooding female lead grew up friendless. Her mom's been worrying about that for years. Now she's found this rascal, there's no way she's letting go.' 'Honestly, fate is wild. The mom instantly picks her future son-in-law. In their past lives, the female lead died trying to save him. Now that they've both been reborn, maybe they'll finally get a second chance together.'

Ava St. James has walked down the aisle four times—and buried every “forever” along the way. At seventy, she’s traded vows for vintage champagne and decided love looks best from a distance. Then along comes Marcus du Prée—handsome, grounded, and far too young to be interested. A gardener, he says. Except the roses he tends belong to his estate, and the dirt under his nails hides a fortune he’d rather forget. When Ava’s flamboyant New Orleans clan crashes into Marcus’s refined Pasadena world, sparks fly, secrets bloom, and one improbable romance dares to take root. For the Fifth Vow is a sparkling romantic comedy about late love, Southern pride, and the kind of courage it takes to say “I do” when everyone else says you shouldn’t. Witty, wise, and full of heart, it reminds us that some vows aren’t meant to end—they’re just waiting for the right season to begin.

In a world slowly being erased, the quiet is the killer. Ethan Ashworth’s life ended the day the Silence touched him, leaving a smooth, numb patch on his skin and a ghost where his memories used to be. He is one of the Marked—doomed to be hollowed out, unless the hunters of Die Jägerfind him first. His only hope is the Library, a secret sanctuary for those the Silence hasn’t yet consumed. There, he meets Lorenzo Cavalli, a former soldier marked not by emptiness, but by a rage that refuses to be silenced. Their connection is immediate, volatile, and unwanted—a psychic bond forged in shared terror that screams against the quiet. It’s also the one thing the all-consuming Silence cannot stomach. Their bond isn't just a link; it’s a weapon. A wrong note in a world demanding perfect silence. On the run from relentless hunters and a creeping nothingness that eats sound, memory, and soul, Ethan and Lorenzo discover a terrible truth: the Silence isn't random. It's a hunger. And it’s gathering, preparing to swallow the world whole. Their only chance is to turn their unwanted connection into a blade, and walk into the heart of the consuming quiet. To kill a god of silence, you don’t fight with a shout. You fight with a scream that is also a love song.

My sister was autistic. The doctors called it "severe sensory overload." The rule was simple: No sudden noises. Ever. So my whole life was set to mute. I never wore heels. I never raised my voice. I wasn't even allowed to laugh. It was all to keep her from having a meltdown. My father, Victor, the Don of the Castellano family, would grip my shoulder. His face was a mask of apology. "Sera, you're my good girl. Protecting your sister is our duty. You're healthy and strong. You can sacrifice a little for her, can't you?" That day, I was on the second-floor terrace and accidentally knocked over a pot of white roses. The sound of it shattering sent my sister, who was sunbathing in the garden below, into a meltdown. For the first time, Victor glared at me like I was the enemy. He roared, "Can't you just be quiet? Do you want to drive her insane?" My sister backed away in terror, right into a glass table, and let out a piercing scream. Victor charged past me, a blur of rage and panic. He slammed into me on the stairs as I was running down to help. I lost my footing and crashed chest-first into the sharp corner of a wrought-iron banister post. Pain exploded in my chest. I opened my mouth to scream, but only silence came out. My family swarmed around my shrieking sister. No one even glanced at me. My lungs filled with blood. I was drowning on the floor. They all thought my sister, the one with autism, needed the family's comfort. They thought I just took a fall. That I could wait. They were wrong.

Lucy lives with a killer. Kidnapped and to be wed to a mafia assassin, Lucy's hopes for a free and pure love were crushed. All she wanted was to be loved and be able to love whomever she wanted. Freely and without demands. Sounds simple enough, right? Not to Dante Romano. Brutal and commanding, he will awaken a darkness in her that she never knew existed. Will she succumb or will she be betrayed? Especially when Lucy wasn't the first choice to begin with. Lucy can't walk away now. Not when Dante not only holds the key to her heart but also to her soul.

When we were eight, Kaelen burned down an entire pack territory just to save me. He swore an oath before the Moon Goddess to be with me forever, to never leave my side. Not even his own father could keep us apart. Then, a pregnant human girl reeking of his scent strutted into my office, a smug smirk on her face. "He says you're old and boring," she gloated. "That your scars turn his stomach." He seems to forget that he's the reason I have every last one of them. And I am not some weak woman he can just humiliate.

I was severely allergic to shrimp. Even touching the broth could make it hard for me to breathe. They used to treat me like a fragile little princess no one could touch. So there was never seafood at home, and even relatives were reminded before each family gathering. Then my little sister was born, and everything changed. Shrimp became her favorite food. She kept asking Mom to make it for her. That was the first time Mom snapped at me. "Can't you just stay away from it? Do you really have to make your sister unhappy?" Dad only shut the kitchen door and handed me a mask. But on the day of Dad's promotion dinner, I accidentally ate shrimp hidden inside a puff pastry. My throat tightened. I clutched my neck and ran to Mom for help, my face turning purple. But Mom flung my hand away, her voice cold as ice. "Today is an important day for your father. What stunt are you trying to pull now? "Do you think everyone has to revolve around you? Go back to your room!" She shoved me into my bedroom, slammed the door, and locked it. I did not even have the strength to call for help. All I could hear was the sound of people outside clinking glasses and offering congratulations, while my fingernails scraped bloody marks into the door.