Mostrando resultados por autor "C.M. Stunich" en Todas las categorías

These forgotten witches aren't too wicked to fall for. A coven of shadows with a curse on my heart and my house. They bake f*cked-up cupcakes in my kitchen and unalive influencers in my front yard. These men make zombies out of their own relatives, and a panting mess out of their own wife. The Witchwoods are a violent stain on the world. Eradicating that blight is worth the dirty, rotten things we do. With a second coven's sacrifice, we can close the gate. Locking the Hag Wytch in her supernatural prison has to be easier with more witches.

I accidentally married three witch stalkers. They've escaped perpetual hell, courtesy of yours truly. They've also gone viral with their annoying thirst trap asses in leather. #theWitchwoodBoys Fine. The power of magic is worth the price.

Whoa, there. Stop right now. You don’t want to listen to this. Trust me. You really don’t want to listen to this. So back away slowly, hands up, and I won’t have to kill you. They might, though. They might be willing to warm my bed, but I wouldn’t say I trusted them. Just a bunch of psychos, really. My three f--kboys, my three psychos.

I'm the princess to a dirty throne of motorcycles and madness, daughter of the president of the Death by Daybreak Motorcycle Club. My father's four closest officers—men dressed in blood and death and sin—they're my honor guard, cloaked in leather vests and tattoos. Only, there's nothing honorable about them at all. They're all wrong for me. Every motorcycle club has its old ladies. These guys...they share one. They share me .

I did not intentionally get my butt stuck to a frozen toilet seat. I did not mean to spray my favorite singer in the face with pepper spray. Promise: I'm just a fangirl, not a stalker. Pop-rock band, Inked Pages, has just rescued this failed bookshop owner from a desolate rest stop. These four spicy rockstars plan to drop me off at home and skedaddle to their ultra-viral holiday concert. But the blizzard is a Christmas miracle in disguise.

Um. Um. Um. Are you reading this? If you are, I need your help. I was at a party; I was running; I fell. And get this - this is the part you'll never believe - I fell down a rabbit hole. Like Alice in those old books. Except in those books, there wasn't blood everywhere. In those books, the characters weren't all male, attractive, and interested in me.

I fell through the Looking-Glass; I got back home. But get this: I didn't come alone. Oh, and it doesn't feel like home anymore. Unlike Alice in the original story, this is not my Wonderland.

They tricked me into a dark and unholy union. Three bastards in witch hats, leather pants, and iron masks. These supernatural stalkers have claimed me for their coven. They won't go away. These assholes will. not. leave. All because I fell for an urban legend: touch the Witch's Tree on a moonless night and discover magic. Wholesome magic like: kinky rituals, blood sacrifice, and jizz potions. Oh, and a forest god who eats people—while they're still alive and screaming. Send help, and I'll send cupcakes.

There’s one mistake you don’t make at Prescott High, not unless you want me to ruin you. Do not touch my beautifully broken Havoc Boys. Harbin, Fadler, Channing-Blackbird, Montauk, and Park. Death stalks the halls of Prescott High. Once upon a time, my best friend betrayed me. For over a year, I let that two-faced bitch go. But not anymore. This time, she’s stirred up the devil in me.

I’m the queen to a dirty throne of men and mania, a dissenter who's supposed to be a quiet accomplice to the Death by Daybreak Motorcycle Club. The four wicked men I’ve summoned are like the Horsemen of the Apocalypse—albeit dressed in leather and riding chrome stallions—and I’m the last judgement, bringing the end of the world as the club knows it. Only, it’s with my own hands bathed in blood and betrayal.

There’s one girl you don’t mess with at Prescott High, not unless you want them to come for you. Those dirty, rotten Havoc Boys might be a gang to everyone else, but they’re family to me. My f--kbuddy. My first love. My husband. My challenger. My confidante. There’s trouble brewing in the halls of our high school, and it’s spilling into the streets.

Finding out you’re the daughter of a millionaire true crime novelist isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. When I was two, I was kidnapped. Kidnapped by a loving family, sure, but still kidnapped. Now, my biological mom wants me to live with her on the opposite side of the country. Her…and my new stepdad and his jerk of a son: Parrish.

Hi, I'm Eve Wakefield, twenty-five years old, professional caterer, recently abducted by aliens alongside my best friend. I'm also completely and utterly screwed. Lost on a jungle planet. Rooming in a downed spaceship with a dragon dude. Being hunted by a moth man with demon eyes and vampire teeth. Begging for help from a tentacle-tailed fox man who also happens to be… a space cowboy?

Ash Kelly. Who knew I’d be dating a dead boy? He might be wearing someone else’s skin, but it’ll always be Ash for me. Ash, the obsessive one, the one with the most to lose, the one I can’t trust. My biggest secret. Kellin Bohnes is always there for me, but he keeps a bulldozer-turned-tank in his warehouse. He has eyes everywhere, but mostly he has eyes for me. Also, he brought me a severed head as a present. His love for me is escalating.

My name is Arizona Smoke, and I’m the fated soul mate to six elemental dragons. Or, at least I thought I was. We even got married - big white dress, custom suits for my beaus, crazy mother-in-law - but now there’s this girl who claims that she is their rightful soul mate. At first, I hated the hunky assholes who’d dropped into my life unannounced, flipped my world upside down, and dragged me into supernatural society kicking and screaming. But now? I’m starting to fall for them, all six of them.

I’m the salvation for the dirty throne of the city’s underworld, the only person who can secure a future for the Death by Daybreak Motorcycle Club. There are few people in this world whom I can trust—a mafia brat, a soon-to-be nun, and four lascivious demons—but that’ll have to be enough, or we’ll all burn together in glorious flame. Only, there’s no telling what my father will do now that he knows the truth.

Dearest Listener…. My story is cancelled. Sharing my words thus far has only put us both in danger. It’s better to just call the whole thing off, before somebody gets hurt. Or maybe, just maybe, you are the one who keeps spilling my secrets. That it? You sold me out? I knew it; I knew I couldn’t trust you.

Break the new girl. That should be easy, right? Trash like her doesn’t belong at Burberry Prep. No, Marnye Reed is going down, and we plan to make a spectacle out of it. Let’s see who can make her fall in love first. Bet’s on. Any takers? Take on the filthy rich boys. They’re the idols of the school, veritable gods on earth. Old money. New money. A rising star. These guys are nothing like the ones at my old school. I might come from nothing, but I’m determined to be someone, and I won’t let them get in my way.

Psst, I know a secret. The same secret that the Student Council—the super-rich, super handsome elite of Adamson All-Boys Academy—knows, too. Jenica Woodruff, the only girl to ever attend the academy before I showed up, didn't commit suicide: she was murdered. Now, someone is after me, too, but no matter where I go, the killer follows. My new high school isn't safe, and turns out, neither is my old one.

Hello again, I'm Eve Wakefield, and I refuse to accept that I'm in love with an intergalactic moth prince. No. I don't care how handsome he is, I don't want to marry him. I don't care if his parents have a sentient spaceship capable of eating entire planets. Love is earned, not swindled by pheromones. I'm now trapped on a ship with an adorable cyborg bodyguard, a golden toilet, and relationship issues. There's the prince I'm supposed to marry, the forest beast I fell in love with, and the never-wears-clothes police officer with tentacles.