Snowflake Reader Account Novels & Stories

Gabrielle ran from her wedding to Jared… and woke up wearing Damon’s ring. He’s cold, wealthy, and dangerously irresistible — a man who swore he couldn’t feel anything. Until her. She’s the runaway bride he turned into his wife. Now she’s trapped in his penthouse wearing his shirt, his ring… and maybe, just maybe, teaching him how to feel again. ⚠️ CONTENT WARNING This story is intended strictly for adult audiences aged 18 and above. The book explores passion, desire, power, and emotional conflict, delving into the complexities of love, lust, and control. It features dark romance elements, including manipulation, obsession, dominance, moral ambiguity, toxic dynamics, and unhealthy relationships portrayed solely for plot purposes. These themes are not meant to be romanticized, endorsed, or implemented in real life. Readers should expect graphic sexual descriptions, BDSM, explicit language, and mature emotional themes, as well as elements of dark humor, identity crisis, childhood trauma, and emotional numbness. Due to the intensity of these topics, reader discretion is strongly advised. This story is written for entertainment and storytelling purposes only. The author does not endorse or glorify harmful behavior. Copyright © 2025 by Siemuri Daniella. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to real persons or events is purely coincidental. BOOK 1 of the Veins Of Darkness Series — interconnected standalone dark romance novels. BOOK 1 – Accidentally Married to the Billionaire Single Dad BOOK 2 – Forced Marriage to My Mafia Ex-Boyfriend BOOK 3 – Coming Soon BOOK 4 – Coming Soon

After I graduated, I kept hitting walls while job hunting, but my boyfriend landed a position at a big company with ease. My boyfriend of two years voluntarily gave me his salary to comfort me. When I finally found a job, he worried about my long commute and bought me a car. All my friends envied me for having such a thoughtful boyfriend. In order to buy our first house, I secretly transferred my own salary into his account as well. A year later, we decided to get married. He held my hand and said excitedly, “I know you don’t have much saved. I don’t want a single cent from you. All I want is your whole heart.” I was deeply moved by how considerate he was. However, on the day of our engagement, he pulled out photos of me with more than 40 different men and accused me of cheating. I stared at them. I had never even seen these people before. Then, he showed me his card’s transaction history, filled with charges from a place called Sunshine Club. “I trusted you with my card, and you used my money to fool around! I’m not marrying you. Give me back my car and the 800,000 dollars you’ve burned through.” I calmly took out the card he had given me before and sneered, “Sure. Let’s settle the accounts properly.” The moment my attorney revealed the true financial statements, he was completely stunned.

After getting tormented by electrical shocks for five years, I've contracted severe brain atrophy. Once the psychiatric hospital kicks me out, I rely on the posts that are recorded in my old Facebook account in order to survive. Rosalie Vaughn, my childhood friend and former girlfriend who has sworn to torture me till I die, takes her rich fiance, Sebastian Crowe, back to the old, rundown complex. The moment she sees me curling up on the moldy couch while clutching my phone tightly, she lets out a scoff. "Oh? Now that you've escaped from the hospital, are you still waiting for some rich woman's text? Weren't you very quick and decisive when you stole my life-saving money back then? Why are you still pretending to be some devoted man?" As soon as Rosalie's voice falls, she snatches my phone from my hands. After keying in the wrong password three times in a row, she chooses to recover my password. The moment she sees the security question, her mocking expression freezes momentarily. The question shows, "Who's the only one I've loved in this life?" I blink hazily, my eyes cloudy and dull. Then, I tug at Rosalie's sleeve. "Miss, do you know who she is? I remember I used to love someone with all my heart, but I think she locked me up in a psychiatric hospital." After that, I turn around and try to scavenge the trash can for a piece of expired bread just so I can offer it to the "nice lady".

In order to take care of my wife, Mildred Dale, who kept going into lunatic episodes thanks to the side effects of a car crash, I spent all of my assets and ten years of my life taking care of her. Whenever Mildred went into an episode, she'd hurl everything she could get her hands on at me. At the same time, she'd scratch every inch of my body with her nails. But when she sobered up, she'd hug me while wailing at the top of her lungs. All of my friends advised me to file for a divorce, yet I'd always remember the fact that Mildred had pushed me from the incoming car and hit her head, resulting in her current condition. But everything changed when Mildred beat me up to the point that I sustained grievous injuries. Heck, my soul was already floating near the ceiling at that time. That was when I saw Mildred arranging her childhood friend Hank Weaver's collar carefully. "Why are you crying? He's already dead. Shouldn't we celebrate this occasion instead? "But my heart breaks for you, Mildred. You've pretended to be a lunatic for ten whole years just to swindle every cent out of his account!" Mildred kissed Hank on the lips. Then, she uttered icily, "I've been enduring that cowardly fool for ten long years. Now, I no longer have to be with him." It turns out that Mildred and Hank had painstakingly staged the car accident just so they could put on such a perfect act. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Mildred is diagnosed with mental health issues.

It was only on our first wedding anniversary that I realized the rubbers I bought before our wedding had long expired. No one would believe that my mafia husband, Andre Garcia, and I had never consummated our marriage. That night, I gathered my courage and bought a suggestive nightgown. After downing three glasses of whisky, I hugged Andre tightly and whispered in his ear, "Darling, let's do it today. I want you..." However, Andre shook my hand off indifferently as if he were handling a gun. "Danielle Lawson, do you have no shame? You've done such shameless things time and time again. If you're really that lonely, I'll order you some toys so you can play with them to your heart's content." My face turned deathly pale as I stood there, stunned. I could not understand why a wife begging for her husband's affection was considered 'shameless' behavior. I curled up on the couch, unable to help but ask on social media. Danielle: [My husband has no dysfunction. Why won't he touch me after marriage?] Someone replied: [Perhaps your husband has someone else.] Like a dagger, that comment pierced me awake. I suddenly realized—maybe the problem was not that I was unattractive but rather that he was never mine. The moment I deleted my account, I also made the decision to leave. Who could have imagined that Andre, who would usually not even glance at me, would frantically search for me after I disappeared? "Danielle, I can't get a hard-on after you left!"

After getting married, I followed my wife to the desert to help build up a remote research base. After months of severe drought, I applied for 17 ounces of water just to wash my hair. But as station chief, June Sheffield rejected me without hesitation. "The water supply has to go toward cultivating the samples first. You need to learn how to tough it out." Then the next moment, I came across a new post the intern had uploaded on social media. 'Wanted to try an outdoor bath, and Ms. Sheffield approved a whole ton of water without even blinking! She even set up the bath tent herself. I'm so happy.' Furious, I went straight to confront June Sheffield. Usually cold and distant, she softened her tone for once. "Conditions here are harsh. If Morgan can't handle it and decides to leave, the base will end up even more short-staffed. You're one of the core staff members. Once the project pays out, your share alone will be at least four million. An intern like him doesn't get that kind of treatment." In the end, I swallowed my anger. That was, until the first-quarter project wrapped up. When there was still no movement in my account, I nervously contacted headquarters. The moment I gave my identity, the person on the other end sounded stunned. "You're just an intern. What project bonus are you talking about? And the head of the research department has always been Morgan Wilder." I stared at June's signature on the personnel registration list and suddenly understood everything. Without another word, I packed my bags and booked a flight home. Life in the desert was bitterly cold and unforgiving. This time, I was not staying.

I had been married to Derek for six years, and we had a three-year-old son. He was poor, earning only $2,000 a month, but I had no complaints; I took care of everything at home for him. After getting dinner on the table for the whole family, I finally had a minute to check my phone. A video popped up on my feed: a twenty-two-year-old girl from a rural area whose hands, roughened by years of hard labor, looked like they belonged to a sixty-two-year-old woman. I looked down at my own hands, just as worn and scarred, and stared at them blankly before tapping into the comments. I expected people to feel bad for her. However, to my surprise, the comments section was flooded with a single sentiment: "Why would anyone marry a penniless loser?" One of the top-liked comments came from a couple; in their photo, they were pictured holding hands—fingers tightly intertwined—with the girl sporting a massive diamond ring. The accompanying caption read: "A man who truly loves you would never bear to let you suffer." I felt a pang of envy. Given the choice, who wouldn't want a glamorous life? As I was about to close the app, I accidentally tapped on the couple's photo, enlarging it. In the background, previously too blurry to make out, was a face I recognized. It looked exactly like my husband, Derek Sterling. I froze, and almost against my will, I tapped into the account's profile. Post after post of lavish photos of them together flooded my screen. And then I saw him clearly. The scar above his brow, the one he got when a shelf fell on him while protecting me, was still plainly visible. It was my husband. It was Derek.

Content Warning: This story contains a significant amount of adult content, including sexual material, alcohol, and violence. Reader discretion is advised. Moans echoed back and forth inside one of the rooms of a five star hotel in Stockholm, Sweden. The young woman could not hold herself back from crying out as a tall, powerfully built man above her moved relentlessly, his muscular body driving into hers. Their bodies were slick with sweat, the act of two people joining fueled by raw desire. “Damn it, you’re so tight and incredible, Lexi. You always satisfy me, you always bring me perfectly to my climax,” Austin said, struggling to catch his breath after release. Alexi turned onto her side, her hand tracing every inch of Austin Stanley’s damp skin, the man who had just made love to her. “You know this is wrong, don’t you, Austin? What we have isn’t right. Why do you trap me in a labyrinth that makes me lose my way?” “If you’re lost, call only me. I’m the only one you should ever call, Alexi Mauren. Only me, Austin Stanley, can guide you. Do you understand?” Austin leaned in, capturing her thin lips. “Listen to me. As long as I’m by your side, I’ll make sure your world stays safe.” Alexi wavered. Being entangled in a forbidden relationship with someone she should never have had was something that could never truly last. What if the world discovered their illicit affair? Would it still show her kindness? Or would the world turn its back on her completely?

Maturity Warning ️ This story is a dark romance intended for mature audiences (18+). It contains explicit sexual content, predatory behavior, power imbalances, blackmail and taboo themes. Reader discretion is advised. He calls me a monster by day, but claimed me like a slut by night. I am my mother's project and world's greatest miracle. I am her husband's greatest sin. I am a hybrid created in a secret basement with the DNA of my mother and sea creatures. I was designed to be the perfect daughter for my creator who couldn't conceive. But to her husband, I was nothing but a hideous monster that threatened his marriage. Rick despises me. He calls me a lab rat and treats me with a cold cruelty that should make me hate him. Yet my heart and body still aches for him. He punished me with his presence, but behind his mask of fate lies a hunger that contradicts his insult. The tension finally snaps when the house was empty and Rick claimed me as his prey in a violent, possessive act that brands me as his private obsession. But the outside world was waking up. Dr Morgan and his hounds are coming for me, to claim me as their asset. My mother, created a replica of me to be my mate, Kael. With the intention of saving her marriage and sending me away. Now, I am caught in a deadly crossfire. Rick swore to protect me from the Dr Morgan and Kael. But as Dr Morgan's men hunted me down. Rick must make a difficult choice; hand me over to the scalpel, or become a fugitive to keep me by his side. The experiment is over. The war for the miracle had begun.

️ DISCLAIMER — EROTICA CONTENT WARNING This novel contains 60%–70% explicit sexual content, dominant/submissive dynamics, supernatural intimacy, and mature themes. Reader discretion is strongly advised. ×××××××××× Edric Vale is broke, desperate, and out of options. With eviction days away and his sister dying, he takes a job at Luna Noir, a secret underground club that pays dancers a fortune. But the moment he steps on stage, Edric realizes Luna Noir is not human and neither are the hungry eyes watching him. His dance awakens something ancient, drawing predators to him… especially Alpha Leon Blackthorn, the cold, ruthless owner of the underground club and Alpha of the Blackthorn Wolves whose wolf reacts violently the instant he sees Edric. Leon sets the rules: Edric dances only for him. No touching. No flirting. No escape. Because Edric belongs to him, whether he understands it or not. But Edric refuses to be controlled. Until rival Alpha Luka Drazan discovers Edric’s dormant power and tries to claim him for a deadly ritual. Leon saves him brutally, then forces Edric into a contract marriage to protect him... and to keep him close. Soon Edric learns the truth: his bloodline carries magic that can break curses or crown kings, and every time Leon touches him, that magic awakens: hot, wild, and dangerously seductive. When Luka uses Edric's ex to kidnaps him to steal that power, Edric finally unleashes the force inside him. He is not prey. He is destiny. Now, with an ancient threat rising and a prophecy whispering his name, Edric must choose: Run from the supernatural world… or rule beside the Alpha willing to burn it down for him. But what he knows is that his power sings every time Leon touches him.