Showing results by author "Gwendoline Rose" in All Categories

Some people believe in soulmates. I believe in expansion packs. I had four. Perfect men who fit into my life like they were always meant to be there. Noah’s sweetness. Orion’s rawr. Elliot’s control. Callum’s chaos. But perfection isn’t static. It evolves. 💘 Vitaly appeared like he’s been baked from my dreams. Soft hands, a voice that made my thighs press together at a family picnic, bruises that aren’t his to wear, and a woman circling him like she has rights. She doesn’t. He does. And he’s mine. 💘 Reid watched from the shadows. A detective with a badge he doesn’t...

When the world ends, survival isn’t enough. Not when the monsters outside aren’t half as dangerous as the men inside. I thought I was just taking another job. Then Ironclad Island swallowed me whole. A prison full of violent men, a world crawling with the dead, and one brutal survivor who refused to let me go. Dax was only the beginning. Because in this broken world, love doesn’t come wrapped in white picket fences and happily-ever-afters. It comes in fire and blood. In men who shouldn’t want me, but can’t stop. In trust that has to be earned, over and over again. Every safe place...

Hi. I’m Delilah P. Darling. You know that moment when you wake up in the drunk tank with glitter in your bra, a questionable tattoo, and a court-appointed therapist? Yeah. Same. I’m not unstable. I’m just deeply, court-mandatedly committed to personal growth. After an unfortunate glitter incident, I’m sentenced to six weeks of mandatory self-reflection with a professional. Enter Dr. Rhys Hartwell: tall, broody, emotionally unavailable and exactly the kind of man I should not be picturing bending me over a mahogany desk while lecturing me about healthy boundaries. I swear I’m ...

Some people believe in soulmates. I believe in research. Love at first sight? It’s real. I should know. It’s happened to me four times now. But men like mine, perfect men, don’t just fall into your lap. You have to study them. Observe their habits. Run their records. Make sure they chew with their mouths closed and don’t have secret families in Ohio. A little light stalking never hurt anyone. 💘 Noah was my first. My sweet, romantic musician. He needed the slow burn. The soft touches. I took the most notes on him. Two notebooks full as he likes to brag. 💘 Orion came next. A ...

If my daddy taught me anything, it’s this: you don’t wait for the world to fall apart—you prep like hell before it does. And let me tell you… it’s falling apart faster than anyone thought. People are sick. The government’s cracking. Civilization? On its last gasps. But me? I’m ready. I’ve got land. Water. Power. Livestock. Enough canned goods to feed a small, horny army. And now? I’m just collecting the men. Five of them. Handpicked. Vetted. All their preferred supplies acquired. I don’t want random strays in my bunker. I want assets. Useful, competent, resilient men who...

“It’s like Eat, Pray, Love—but with group sponge baths and better orgasms.” —A woman who left her husband for a man she met during Rage Yoga™ “Hot, hilarious, and suspiciously accurate about men and emotions. I highlighted every filthily sacred line. My Kindle is pregnant.” —@SmudgedandSatisfied on BookTok A spiritually chaotic, accidentally sexy Reverse Harem romantic comedy with rituals, robes, and more emotional healing than I legally intended. Hi. I’m Bliss. Yes, that’s my real name. No, I don’t want to talk about it. Here’s what you need to know: I inherited a...

Survival was never enough. Not when the monsters outside aren’t half as dangerous as the scars we carry inside. I thought I knew what it meant to fight. Then the world ended. The dead are evolving. The living won’t stop coming for us. But there’s a line we draw, teeth bared and backs pressed together. Eighteen souls: killers, guards, and broken things with nothing left to lose except each other. We carved out something that almost feels like home. A haven built from stubborn hope and the kind of loyalty you bleed for. In this torn-up world, love isn’t soft. It’s a collection of ...

We swore our love in blood. Then they left me behind. I was just a little girl having tea parties in the woods when I met my four fated mates—wild, reckless boys who made me theirs with a vow and a cut of a blade. Then they realized who I was. Too late. The daughter of the evil Fae queen. They had two choices: keep me and fight a war they couldn’t win or erase my memories, rip themselves out of my heart, and leave me human side. Cowards. I don’t know a damn thing thanks to those idiots, but guess what? The past never stays buried, and now Fae is calling me home. And my mother? ...

Three men. One bone saw. Zero regrets. Romance is messy. That’s why I line the trunk. Some girls bake cookies to cope with trauma. I bury men in my garden. Not all men, obviously. Just the ones who call me “curvy” like it’s charity work, ghost after sex, or think gaslighting counts as foreplay. I give them four dates. That’s generous, considering how many end up under the begonias. Lately, I’ve been doing a lot more digging than dating. The garden’s full, my shovel’s tired, and the ghosts of shitty men are haunting my heirloom tomatoes. Then Blake shows up, all golden ...

I’m Opal Mae Gibson. I’m not looking for love. I’m looking for a personality that might finally be lovable. According to my mother, that means joining book clubs, scaling indoor cliffs, and performing emotional burlesque in improv class while dressed like a cardigan-wrapped existential crisis. It started with a library card. Then came Luca Moretti. Quiet, devastating, reference-desk Adonis with hands that know how to handle rare manuscripts and mental breakdowns. Then Bryce Strickland showed up. Wrecking ball in a racing suit. Smells like vengeance and kisses like it’s his last lap....

"One maiden endures the maze. The monster lifts the haze." It is said that only a maiden pure of body, heart, and soul can solve the maze beyond the goblin ring, freeing the village of its curse. Against the wishes of her mother, and much to the displeasure of the lecherous village men, who would delight in aiding in the removal of her purity, Lola runs with her virtue intact into the mist to free the village and explore the darkness of the goblin king’s maze.

I’m overstimmed and undercaffeinated, wrapped in a scarf that doubles as a coping mechanism. One desperate wish over a pumpkin spice latte brands my cup with a sigil and summons four supernatural suitors, each a different flavor of sin. Cinnamon: heat and bite, all bossy smirks and golden burn. Nutmeg: soft incubus, curved horns and “good boy” energy. Clove: glitter-covered trickster with a googly eye hoard and mischief to spare. Ginger: fallen angel, praise kink incarnate, wings like sanctuary. They’re not here to drag me to hell. They want to worship me into it. Between infernal ...

She crashed into Oz. Now she’s got glitter in unmentionable places and a tail wrapped around her thigh. I was just a girl from Kansas with a Civic full of snacks and a dog with anxiety. Then the tornado hit. Now I’ve got a cursed pair of boots I can’t return, a corset we won’t talk about, a parasol that flies, (I’m not mentioning the wand) and three ridiculously hot men who claim we’re soulbound. There’s Patch, the scarecrow with no filter and too many sharp ideas. Steel, the emotionally frozen Tin Man who might actually be made of regret. And Kade, the cursed lion-shifter who...

One girl. Four demons. Happy endings guaranteed. Silent nights absolutely not. All I wanted was a quiet holiday in the snow. What I got was four magical men and one hell of a Christmas wish come true. It started with a cocoa recipe. A strange book. And a blizzard named Carol. Now I’m sharing my grandmother’s haunted house with four beings who claim to be the Princes of Winter. They’re hot. They’re uniquely equipped. They’re very committed to making my holidays… memorable. There’s Crème, who is all praise and wicked promises. Chocolate, who growls more than he speaks. ...

I didn’t run to the carnival for freedom. I ran because I had nowhere else left to go. Daniel made sure I remembered what I was—fragile, broken, easy to hurt. But he never expected the carnies to look back. To see me. To protect me. Now I’m hiding in a traveling wonderland of magic and monsters, tucked into the shadows of three extraordinary men: A vampire with time in his hands and fury in his blood. A tiger shifter who growls like sin and guards like a sentinel. And a mind-bending demon who holds me together with silk and whispered promises. I’m not like the women who twirl ...

Quand ce mystérieux écrivain emménage à quelques pas de chez elle, l'occasion est trop belle : elle se met en tête de lui faire aimer Noël. Comment ? En mettant en pratique tout ce qu'elle a appris lors de ses lectures assidues de comédies romantiques ! Mais Lucas préfère que ses histoires finissent mal. Et si la tempétueuse Violette ne veut pas connaître un destin funeste, elle ferait mieux de se tenir à distance, car il ne compte pas se laisser emporter par son optimisme...