Brianna grew up among the socialites and the Occult of New Orleans. When her adoptive father dies when she is only 10 she discovers just how sinister her mother can be. Now 21 she is in a race against time to get out before the Vipers find out exactly what they are losing. So that one day she can return and seek the retribution owed for the death of her father and to keep his coven's legacy from falling into darkness. Following her fathers divine word as a seer she takes to the Bayou to discover "The Beast that is her heart," What she finds is a whole lot of testosterone and a struggling family trying to keep a foothold as their pack dies out. They too have a vendetta of their own, for an old wound that Brianna's presence dredges up in their hearts. Can Brianna avenge herself and her father? Can they each protect their hearts? Because there's more than one beast in the swamp that she is falling for. Will she choose wisely or will she even choose at all? Being tangled in a web of friendships, family and broken souls, will they find their way together? or will the Vipers devour her soul?
Bri
My fingers brushed the smooth stone of the mausoleum. The tips traced the words of the machine-hewn inscription.
Sabastian Piere La' Blanc,
Dutiful Husband,
Leader, and Humanitarian.
The symbol of the coven etched beneath it. A coven raised within New Orleans meshing the world of cajun hereditary witches with the deep roots of voodoo practitioners. My fingers traced the dates from his birth to the day life ended in 1994, ten achingly long years ago. He deserved to have a craftsman etching his stone crypt, not some effortless, heartless machine, chiseling out empty words void of empathy. The pads of my fingers caressed each chip in the stone,I felt he deserved. There was nothing in the inscription, to note the little girl he left behind after his death. The only soul who still visited his grave every weekend, placing flowers in the vases at the door. The only one who still mourned his insurmountable loss. There is nothing here besides the lilies I attentively place and the tears that have been shed into the soil, washed away by rain and hurricanes alike. He had been everything to the little girl he saved out of the trash in the ninth ward. A tiny infant whose power and magic he said called him to stride through the filth of New Orleans' poorest district, following his divine gift through the drab streets and alleys in his tailored suit. Collecting the wailing child, he brought the innocent babe home to his barren wife to raise as their own.
The once vivid memories faded. Afternoons singing Cajun French ballads as we picnicked, on crab boil in the sticky heat of the Louisiana summer sun. Wandering the lush garden district while he gave me history lessons on the occult and non-occult happenings of our culture-rich home's past. Sitting with him in his study as he toiled away at his old tomes, looking for new ways to combine the strengths of multiple types of magic as I did my homework, or him helping me meditate to control the myriad of gifts developing in my young mind. I wondered what he would make of my many new, yet untested developments. I sighed before I spoke to him,
"Papa, there.will be a point where I will have to stop coming for a while. I can't stay to live out the Viper's will." That's what he called her as I sat by his bedside mopping the sweat from his brow. Her possession of him was now broken, yet another gris-gris, a foul curse, to steal his life now replaced it.
"Brianna," he said, his breath faltering, "Beware the Vipère (Viper) you are caught in her nest, this is my fault ma petite (my little one)." I had tried to hush him to save his strength but he wasn't having it. "Bide your time enfant de mon coeur (child of my heart), you must endure for a time before you flee. But when the time comes, fuis n'attends pas (flee don't wait), ma fille tu seras notre revanche (my daughter you will be our revenge). trouves la bête qu'est ton coeur (find the beast who is your heart)." Soon the jumbled English and French of his old-school Arcadian upbringing in Cajun country became intelligible, I only made out the French word for safe and bayou as he mumbled about beasts in the swamp, protect my Bri, but there was nothing I could make sense of. His eyes shut before he passed and I wept clinging to his hand. It had probably been hours before she found me there. A 10-year-old girl clutching the cold hand of the only person to ever show her true kindness. She grabbed me by the hair, dragged me out into the hall, and slammed the door shut. I could hear her screaming and cursing my father's corpse, blaming me for ruining everything. I tried to get into the door but I had little fight left after hours of tears. I heard smashing and destruction as, in a tantrum, she laid waste to the room. She would strike down anything in her way.
The mother who never wanted me. A woman jealous of a child's love, a mistress to darkness, who I once let hurt me with her words and actions. No more. I had been rebelling for a long time in tiny measures Lorraine or her minions couldn't hold against me. How would it look if they pulled me from school? Or forced me to quit a job where everyone in the coven and neighboring ones, humans and witches alike, had come to know me. My loophole was their images and I teetered dangerously on that ledge. I had a whole other life outside of their house of grotesque expectations. I pushed the envelope with what I wore and what I chose to study, and I slipped past their wide arching network of cameras or tracking devices to plot and plan my way out of this mess. Once I was out, I had a short window once I was 21 to accept my inheritance. It was something my mother didn't even know about. Something my father told me about when he had started to notice my mother's lashing out becoming more venomous, brash, and unhidden. It had been one thing for her to not want to rear me, a completely different one to outright punish my existence.
Once, he had walked around the corner and caught her slapping me so hard across the face my nose bled. I hadn't done anything, my mere existence goaded her, spurring her rage. She had attacked me over the tan shoes that I had paired with a yellow dress, called the combination a tasteless abomination, and whined about how I was trying to ruin her image at her party later that evening. I had thought she would be pleased I had worn the horror of yellow tulle she had picked out but it seemed I would never be good enough for her. I had once so desperately wanted her to love me, that beautiful woman with perfect blond hair, the lean length of her, the grace with which she moved. She was smart and calculating. I later realized the brightness in her blue eyes I had once seen as restrained warmth, was a cold kind of cunning ready to snatch your soul, your essence, your magic, and hand it over to the highest bidders of power. After seeing how I was treated behind his back, her hold on him began to dwindle. They fought and with his love for me he held on for a few months before his health declined, some putrid magic of hers no doubt. A gris-gris of sorts I would never understand, at least not without the right teacher.
My magic was natural and instinctive, reacting to my environment. My father had poured over books, looking for answers to my unusual abilities to no avail. He said it was old, ancient, and strong. I was unable to stretch my wings in that department with too many hungry eyes looking to cage and devour me. I had to find 'the beast that was my heart,' that was safety, whatever The Beast was. Was it something within myself or was it someone or something else, I didn't know? My father's random bouts of divinity were always vague riddles. So I would go to the bayou. snakes and alligators were less offensive than what I faced here each day.
'Tick, Tick, Tick,' my internal clock was nearing the time of my alarm, the end had come to my duration of inaction and submission to what I was subjected to. I didn't know what lay beyond my escape, that is if I made it out. 'Shut up Bri, you are making it out,' I chided myself. 'You have a job to do.' I will then return with vengeance for my father's death and for the monstrosity my 'mother' intended for me to be involved in.
"We are divorced, Adams." She sighed and wanted to walk away, but he held her. "It doesn't matter." He answered, his voice laced with determination. "I don't love you anymore." "That doesn't matter either. What matters is that I want you, and there's nothing you or anyone can do about it." ***** Alicia's life has been a series of ups and downs. She suffered abuse from her husband and his family because she couldn't give him a child. She thought she had seen it all, but not until the day she returned home only to receive the divorce papers from her husband's parents. She pleaded with them, but was met with deaf ears, and so she signed the documents and left. Little did anyone know that she was pregnant. She returned six years later with her baby girl only to find her Ex-husband craving her once more. How will she take this, and what other surprises does fate have in stock for her?
They don't know I'm a girl. They all look at me and see a boy. A prince. Their kind purchase humans like me for their lustful desires. And, when they stormed into our kingdom to buy my sister, I intervened to protect her. I made them take me too. The plan was to escape with my sister whenever we found a chance. How was I to know our prison would be the most fortified place in their kingdom? I was supposed to be on the sidelines. The one they had no real use for. The one they never meant to buy. But then, the most important person in their savage land-their ruthless beast king-took an interest in the "pretty little prince." How do we survive in this brutal kingdom, where everyone hates our kind and shows us no mercy? And how does someone, with a secret like mine, become a lust slave? . AUTHOR'S NOTE. This is a dark romance-dark, mature content. Highly rated 18+ Expect triggers, expect hardcore. If you're a seasoned reader of this genre, looking for something different, prepared to go in blindly not knowing what to expect at every turn, but eager to know more anyway, then dive in! . From the author of the international bestselling book: "The Alpha King's Hated Slave."
Corinne devoted three years of her life to her boyfriend, only for it to all go to waste. He saw her as nothing more than a country bumpkin and left her at the altar to be with his true love. After getting jilted, Corinne reclaimed her identity as the granddaughter of the town’s richest man, inherited a billion-dollar fortune, and ultimately rose to the top. But her success attracted the envy of others, and people constantly tried to bring her down. As she dealt with these troublemakers one by one, Mr. Hopkins, notorious for his ruthlessness, stood by and cheered her on. “Way to go, honey!”
To the public, she was the CEO's executive secretary. Behind closed doors, she was the wife he never officially acknowledged. Jenessa was elated when she learned that she was pregnant. But that joy was replaced with dread as her husband, Ryan, showered his affections on his first love. With a heavy heart, she chose to set him free and leave. When they met again, Ryan's attention was caught by Jenessa's protruding belly. "Whose child are you carrying?!" he demanded. But she only scoffed. "It's none of your business, my dear ex-husband!"
"Ahh!" She was in a moaning mess. She did not want to feel anything for this man. She hated him. His hands began to move all over her body. She gasped when he pulled down the back chain of her dress. The chain stopped at her lower waist, so when he zipped it off, her upper back and waist were exposed. "D-Don't touch m-ummm!" His fingers rolled around her bare back, and she pressed her head against the pillow. His touches were giving her goosebumps all over her body. With a deep angry voice, he whispered in her ear, "I am going to make you forget his touches, kisses, and everything. Every time you touch another man, you will only think of me." - - - Ava Adler was a nerdy omega. People bullied her because they thought she was ugly and unattractive. But Ava secretly loved the bad boy, Ian Dawson. He was the future Alpha of the Mystic Shadow Pack. However, he doesn't give a damn about rules and laws, as he only likes to play around with girls. Ava was unaware of Ian's arrogance until her fate intertwined with his. He neglected her and hurt her deeply. What would happen when Ava turned out to be a beautiful girl who could win over any boy, and Ian looked back and regretted his decisions? What if she had a secret identity that she had yet to discover? What if the tables turned and Ian begged her not to leave him?
After being kicked out of her home, Harlee learned she wasn't the biological daughter of her family. Rumors had it that her impoverished biological family favored sons and planned to profit from her return. Unexpectedly, her real father was a zillionaire, catapulting her into immense wealth and making her the most cherished member of the family. While they anticipated her disgrace, Harlee secretly held design patents worth billions. Celebrated for her brilliance, she was invited to mentor in a national astronomy group, drew interest from wealthy suitors, and caught the eye of a mysterious figure, ascending to legendary status.