His Dangerous Love On Ice
"Let's play a game."
"What game?"
"One that involves you not screaming."
★★★★★
I'd been the perfect girlfriend to my star hockey player for two years.
Stood in the rain at his practices. Drove hours just to watch him warm benches. Wore his jersey like it meant something.
And he repaid me by fucking his way through half of Chicago-including the sister of the one man he's been obsessed with for years.
Zane Mercer.
The NHL's most dangerous player. My stepfather's worst enemy. And the man who looked at me like I was something worth destroying the world for.
One impossible offer.
One desperate bet.
One night that changed everything.
Zane doesn't do fake. He doesn't do half measures.
When he tells me I'm his for two months, he means it. In every way that matters.
But Zane has secrets buried so deep they connect to my family's past in ways I never imagined. Dark secrets. Deadly ones.
What starts as a transaction turns into obsession.
What starts as revenge turns into something I can't walk away from.
And what starts as a lie might be the only truth that matters.
They say some men are too dangerous to love.
They're right.
But I was never good at following warnings.
★★★★★
This book contains explicit sexual content, dominant/possessive behavior, morally gray characters, family conflict, and themes that may be triggering. Intended for mature readers 18+.
This isn't your normal hockey romance. It's dark, raw, and unrelenting-where obsession, desire, and power collide, and nothing is off-limits.
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Chapter 7
Chapter 7: Olive's POV
I'd found a reasonable place to have coffee not long after, tucked into a corner of the hotel café, nursing lukewarm coffee and debating whether my life had always been this much of a trainwreck or if it was a recent development.
Spoiler: It was recent.
Three days in Chicago, and I'd already been mistaken for a creative director, cornered by the hottest hockey player alive, offered some mysterious deal I'd been smart enough to refuse, and spent every waking moment trying not to think about said hockey player's bare chest and wet dreams.
I was doing great.
The café was quiet-thank God-just the soft hum of espresso machines and the occasional clink of dishes. I'd needed this. Space to think. To breathe. To figure out what the hell I was doing with my life.
And then the door opened.
I looked up.
And immediately wanted to throw myself out the window.
No.
It had been two years since I'd seen Ryan Mitchell, and the universe had been kind enough to keep it that way. But apparently, my luck had officially run out.
He spotted me instantly-because of course he did-and his face split into that same obnoxious grin I remembered from college. The one that made you want to punch him and also wonder if he was actually aware of how annoying he was.
He started walking toward me.
I considered running.
But my legs didn't move. Just stayed frozen as I watched him approach, all cocky swagger and that stupid hair flick he'd never grown out of. He swiped a hand through his sandy blonde hair, blowing out fake heat from his face like he'd just run a marathon instead of crossing a café.
His teeth were too white. His smile too wide.
I almost gagged.
"Oh, come on." He stopped in front of my table, hands on his hips, looking like he'd just won the lottery. "Don't tell me who we have here. If this isn't fate, I don't know what is."
"Fuck off, Ryan." I took a sip of my coffee, not bothering to look at him. "Fate is for paranormal romance novels. And you, buddy, don't look paranormal to me."
He burst out laughing.
That was the thing about Ryan-he didn't understand insults. Not because he was slow, but because he'd somehow convinced himself that verbal abuse was flirting.
"God, I love it when you insult me." He pulled out the chair across from me without asking and sat down. "It makes me hot. Turned on, even. That's why I always came to you. Free spank bank material, you know? Easier that way."
My face folded in disgust. "You're a walking HR violation."
"And you're still gorgeous when you're pissed." He leaned back, completely unbothered. "So what's new? Break any hearts lately? Ruin any lives?"
I set my cup down, debating whether throwing hot coffee in his face would be worth the assault charge.
I'd been sitting here, spiraling about my encounter with Zane. About the possibility-the dangerous possibility-that I might actually end up in over my head with him. The kind of over my head that involved his hands, his mouth, and a very bad decision.
And now Ryan had barged in and ruined even my fantasies.
"You're a child, Ryan," I said flatly. "And I'm glad I gave you the best three months of your freshman year. Now fuck off."
He laughed harder. "Oh, come on. That was four years ago. I graduated last year, pulled my life together, and here I am. Living the dream."
I grunted, already exhausted. "Good for you. Door's that way."
"Still got those daddy issues, huh?" He tilted his head, studying me like I was a science project. "That tone sounds exactly like the one you used to give when your dad-"
"Shut the fuck up."
I slammed my cup down hard enough that coffee sloshed over the rim.
Ryan blinked, startled for half a second before his grin returned.
That was Ryan's specialty-pushing until you snapped, then acting like your reaction was the punchline. He didn't care how much he hurt you as long as he got under your skin. It was his life's work.
And I'd been stupid enough to sleep with him in college.
"Okay, okay." He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Touchy subject. Got it. So is it daddy issues or new boyfriend issues? Because that look on your face screams 'man trouble.'"
I pressed my fingers to my temples. "Why are you here, Ryan?"
"Funny you should ask." He leaned forward, elbows on the table, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. "I got myself a hobby. Joined the NHL."
I stared at him.
Blinked.
Stared some more.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"NHL, baby." He tapped the table twice. "Chicago Wolves. Just got called up."
My brain tried to process this information and failed spectacularly.
"They're just picking up random scumbags off the street now?" I asked slowly. "Or did DADDY pull some strings for his little boy?"
Ryan's jaw tightened. "Always going for the throat, huh?"
"You make it so easy."
"I worked hard for this, Olive." His voice dropped, and for a second-just a second-he almost sounded serious. "Really fucking hard. You think I'd end up useless? And leave my dad out of this. I've got stronger connections through my mom's side."
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so Mommy helped you out."
He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "You're impossible."
"And you're still talking."
"My uncle," he said through gritted teeth, "Gary Mercer. Senior VP of NHL operations. He helped me pull the strings. And now I'm here, playing on the same team as my favorite cousin."
My stomach dropped.
"Cousin?"
Ryan's grin returned, sharper now. "Zane Mercer. You might've heard of him. Best player in the league. Total god on the ice. Ring any bells?"
I couldn't breathe.
Zane Mercer was Ryan's cousin?
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8.5
In a world grown dry with doubt and division, three weary souls set out on a journey that will awaken a miracle.
When Daniel, a humble preacher marked by loss, follows a whisper of faith into the desolate lands, he is joined by Isabella - steadfast, luminous, and unafraid to believe when all seems barren - and Elise, a seeker torn between light and shadow. Together, they carry the covenant of a living river - one that flows not only through the earth, but through the human heart.
From the rebirth of Willow Creek to the awakening of forgotten cities, The Everflow traces a breathtaking pilgrimage of renewal and redemption. But as the river spreads, so too does resistance - from powers that fear the tide of grace and the breaking of old chains. Through storms and silence, fire and flow, Daniel and his companions learn that the greatest battle is not against the desert without, but the drought within.
Told in luminous prose and steeped in spiritual symbolism, The Everflow is a sweeping saga of faith, unity, and the unyielding strength of divine love. It is a story for every heart that has ever felt dry - and for every soul still longing to remember that the river never truly stopped flowing.
When faith becomes a current, hope a journey, and love the water that carries us home - the Everflow begins.
9.2
My world shattered twice. First, the ocean claimed my son. Then, the mountain road took another, a direct sacrifice to the man I loved and the woman he chose. In the hospital, beeps marked the emptiness where my second son used to be, echoing the first loss, both involving Holden and Giana.
During the car crash, I was pinned, bleeding, and trapped. Holden, my partner, looked me in the eyes, then chose to save Giana, abandoning me and our unborn child.
Soon, I overheard Holden praising Giana for turning our tragedy into a PR win. His hollow apologies and focus on Giana’s "miracle work" reignited the brutal memory of her push and his past denials.
A decade of sacrificing my life and two children for a man who saw me as a liability left a bitter taste. His choice was clear; only profound abandonment remained.
But this time, I was choosing me. From my profound loss, a dangerous spark ignited: I would not just survive; I would find freedom and make him pay.
8.4
Kenzie, the former leader of the Aegis Alliance, opened her eyes to find herself reincarnated as a freezing, abandoned infant in a wet cardboard box.
She was rescued from the rain by Devin Ayers, a ruthless billionaire, and rushed to a private hospital, but a deadly threat was already waiting for her.
The ER doctor, Desiree Dillon, approached her with a syringe. Through a sudden burst of telepathy, Kenzie read the doctor's dark thoughts. Desiree wasn't trying to cure her fever. She deliberately ignored the safe dosage, drawing a lethal amount of Diazepam to permanently silence the crying baby and disguise it as sudden infant death.
"This will make it all go away," Desiree smiled gently, the needle glinting as it moved inches from Kenzie's arm.
Trapped in a weak, paralyzed three-month-old body, Kenzie couldn't run, fight, or even speak. She could only watch the poison inch closer.
How could she survive death only to be assassinated in a hospital bed by a corrupt doctor? She used to command armies. The sheer injustice and terror of dying completely helpless in this tiny body ignited a blinding rage inside her.
Refusing to be a victim again, Kenzie pushed her newborn brain to its absolute limit and unleashed a desperate telepathic scream directly into the billionaire's mind.
"Poison! She's trying to kill me!"
Devin, who had been looking away, suddenly froze, his icy gray eyes locking onto the doctor's wrist.
8.1
Red Moon
8.1
Blood Moon – Story Description
Blood Moon is a dark, thrilling tale of forbidden attraction, supernatural rivalry, and the fine line between predator and prey. Set in the seemingly ordinary Silver Hollow College, the story unfolds in a world where vampires and werewolves secretly coexist alongside humans, each hiding their true powers while battling their own instincts, rival clans, and the pressures of legacy. In this shadowed world, every glance can hide a threat, every conversation can carry hidden meaning, and every full moon can unleash the beast within.
At the heart of the story are Catrine Nella, a powerful young vampire, and Edwardo Zee, a disciplined yet conflicted werewolf. Catrine is sharp, cunning, and deadly, raised under the constant pressure of her ambitious step-sister who insists she feed on human blood to grow stronger. Catrine's natural talents in both magic and combat make her a force to be reckoned with, yet she struggles with morality, identity, and her own desire for control. Edwardo, on the other hand, is torn between his instincts as a wolf and the manipulations of his ruthless step-brother, who demands that he become a killer to claim alpha status. Edwardo wants to be a true alpha, not through bloodshed, but by protecting others and leading with honor-an ambition that sets him apart from his family and makes him both a target and a misfit among his kind.
The story begins with a violent, electrifying encounter between Catrine and Edwardo in the forest during the full moon. Both are drawn by their own impulses-Catrine performing a vampire ritual, Edwardo struggling to control the wolf within-and the resulting clash is fierce, brutal, and unforgettable. This first meeting ignites a dangerous rivalry, with each recognizing the other's extraordinary abilities while also sensing something forbidden and magnetic between them. Though enemies by instinct and heritage, the connection they forge amidst conflict sets the stage for a tension-filled enemies-to-lovers narrative that drives the series forward.
As the story unfolds, Silver Hollow College becomes a battlefield not just of physical strength but of intellect, cunning, and emotional power. Catrine and Edwardo test one another constantly-through subtle glances in class, tense encounters in crowded hallways, and increasingly dangerous confrontations in the forest. Each battle pushes them further, revealing vulnerabilities and strengths, and slowly transforms their relationship from animosity into fascination, grudging respect, and eventually, desire. Amidst this, both characters are confronted with the pressures of their families. Catrine's step-sister threatens her with weakness if she does not feed on human blood, while Edwardo's step-brother pressures him toward ruthless dominance, creating a constant tension that challenges their morality and tests the limits of their powers.
At its core, Blood Moon is a story about choice and identity. It explores the struggle between instinct and conscience, power and restraint, hatred and attraction. It examines what it means to be strong-not just physically, but emotionally and morally-in a world where strength often comes at the cost of humanity. Through fast-paced action, supernatural intrigue, and the slow-burning, dangerous pull between Catrine and Edwardo, the story blends romance, suspense, and fantasy into a gripping narrative. It is a saga of blood and moonlight, of predators and secrets, of rivalry and passion, and of two young supernatural beings whose lives are forever intertwined by fate, desire, and the power of the Blood Moon.
7.7
Rejected by the Lycan King, Awakened as Luna
One Night. One Rejection. One Child Who Will Rewrite the Moon.
She was never meant to survive the night she spent with the Lycan King.
Drawn into the heart of Lycan territory under a fractured moon, she crossed paths with the most feared ruler of their world-a king forged in dominance, command, and ruthless control. One night of instinct and forbidden desire bound them together in a mate bond neither could deny.
By dawn, he rejected her.
Cold. Public. Absolute.
But his cruelty hid a truth he could never speak-a prophecy written in blood and moonlight, one that promised her death if he claimed her. To protect her, he severed the bond with his own hands and cast her out, knowing she would hate him... and believing hatred was safer than love.
Banished into the snow, wounded and alone, she did not beg. She did not break.
As the cold claimed her strength, a single thought anchored her will: "I must survive."
And beneath her numb fingertips, silver light flickered-unseen, unrecognized, awakening.
She survives the exile only to discover the impossible. She carries the Lycan King's child.
A child conceived under a fractured moon. A child whispered to be born not of love, but of dominance and defiance.
While the world believes her broken, her body begins to change. Her power is not claws or combat-but something far rarer. Lunar healing flows through her veins, mending bodies and binding loyalty. Empathy awakens with it, allowing her to sense emotions, calm rage, and later... bend dominance itself. In exile, she becomes a quiet force-saving lives, gathering allies, and growing into a leader no one expected.
When the Lycan King learns the truth, regret does not drive him.
Obsession does.
He does not ask for forgiveness. He demands possession-only to find the woman he discarded no longer kneels to kings. Every forced reunion becomes a war of wills, every near-touch burns with unresolved desire, and every step closer ignites the truth he has avoided: she is no longer his weakness.
She is becoming the Luna that the moon itself has chosen.
As enemies rise within the Lycan court and rival Alphas circle the child who could unmake kings, the Lycan King faces a reckoning no crown can shield him from. To claim her heart, he must surrender more than pride. He must sacrifice power. Reputation. His throne.
And she must decide whether love-once broken-can ever be earned again... or whether her destiny lies in ruling without him.
This is not a story of gentle mates or easy forgiveness.
It is a dark, obsessive romance where survival becomes strength, power awakens through pain, and love is forged through sacrifice.
She was rejected.
She survived.
And now, the moon answers only to her.
8.8
She hides behind ugly suits and fake names. He's done trusting women. When they meet in a masked sex club, neither realizes they've been fighting each other across boardroom tables for eighteen months. At Taylor Industries, she's Joy Smith-the frumpy CFO who drowns her curves in shapeless polyester and wearing a wig. At home, she's the forgotten wife of a cheating lawyer who hasn't touched her in so long she's starting to wonder if she's broken. When she finds hot pink lace panties stuffed in her couch cushions...definitely not hers, it's not heartbreak she feels. It's freedom. Grayson Taylor doesn't do relationships anymore. Not after walking in on his actress fiancée with another woman. Now he channels everything into hostile takeovers and board meetings, especially the ones where his overcautious CFO fights him on every goddamn acquisition. Joy Smith is brilliant, infuriating, and funny when he pushes all her buttons. But Honey is tired of being invisible. Tired of never having felt real pleasure. So, when her best friend gives her the details of The Velvet Room-Manhattan's most exclusive masked club-she promises herself just one night. One night to find out if her husband's right, if she really is frigid, or if she's just never been touched by the right hands. She doesn't expect the masked stranger who claims her the second she walks in. Doesn't expect the chemistry that ignites between them, the way he makes her body sing, or the orgasms that leave her shaking. Doesn't expect him to hand her an email address with one command: "Only me. No one else touches you."