Bright Line Eating Novels & Stories

She was born into the Mafia life but she hated it. She wanted to live a normal life where violence and blood sheds were not needed. But life other plans for her. Rosaline's life took a massive turn when her father announced that she was getting married to the King of the Russian Mafia. Things weren't roses and daisies for her. instead, they were bushes of torns. Alexei didn't even understand the reason he was having a wife but he knew he couldn't go against the wishes of his grandfather. let's see how well they would handle each other.

A fiercely independent and highly disciplined art student, known for her intense focus and guarded nature, is meticulously planning her final thesis exhibition – a project she sees as her only path to healing from a past betrayal that left her emotionally scarred. Her carefully constructed world is upended when a plumbing disaster in the dorms forces her into a temporary, shared apartment with the university's star rugby captain. He's a charismatic, powerful 'golden retriever' type, known for his easy charm and protective instincts, but also carries the weight of his own family's expectations. Initially, she views him as a loud, distracting presence, leading to clashes over shared space and differing lifestyles. However, the rugby captain is 'immediately obsessed' with her quiet intensity and the raw emotion in her art. He actively seeks to understand her, offering unwavering support and protection, especially when her past trauma threatens to derail her artistic process.

Gregory Stevens, a newly arrived student at Blackwood International College, mysteriously disappears from the elite private school. Erik Wilson must track him down without anyone knowing that they are hackers. With every clue that Erik discovers the lines become more and more blurred surrounding Gregory, and who he truly might be. The first clue he finds is a half-burned cryptic note that reads "Ric$40" written on top of Gregory's uniform in his dorm room. That same clue appears on Gregory's smartwatch as well. The realm of hacking knows his name and invites him to join in, and play.

On the night of her eighteenth birthday, June’s world doesn’t just shatter, it awakens. She thought she was an ordinary girl on the brink of graduation, adopted and unremarkable, carrying only unanswered questions about her past. But when the moon rises, so does the truth: she is a werewolf, heir to a bloodline steeped in ancient magic and bound by destiny. Thrust into a hidden world where power is currency and secrets are lethal, June finds an unlikely ally in Killian, a formidable wolf whose loyalty is as fierce as his strength. Their search for answers leads them from shadowed forests to the sands of Egypt, where a mystic oracle guards prophecies older than empires—and where June’s lineage is whispered as both salvation and doom. Along the way, they cross paths with a vampire tailor whose enchanted needles stitch more than fabric, weaving protection, deception, and fate itself. But even his magic cannot shield June from the greatest revelation awaiting her: a queen returned from the dead, risen to reclaim a throne drenched in blood and moonlight… and tied irrevocably to June’s own heritage. As the Council of Twelve tightens its iron claws around her, June must unravel the truth of her origins before it consumes her. Every step draws her deeper into a destiny she never asked for but can no longer escape. Her lineage is her power… or her execution.

Crossing Lines is a dark, seductive romance where power, obsession, and secrets blur the line between love and control. Lana Reyes, a driven NYU law student with a desperate need to stay afloat, takes a job at Vortex, Manhattan’s most exclusive underground club. She never expects to catch the eye of Nathan Cross—ruthless billionaire, Vortex’s elusive owner, and a man who doesn’t do second encounters. But when their worlds collide, the pull is magnetic. What begins as a dangerous game of dominance and desire spirals into something neither of them can control. As Lana falls deeper into Nathan’s world of power, secrets, and seduction, she must decide how far she's willing to go—and what lines she's willing to cross—to survive it. In a world where love is a weapon and trust is a risk, Crossing Lines is a provocative ride that will leave you breathless and begging for more.

In the strict halls of Briarcliff School for boys, 18-year old Hosea finds himself drawn to his charismatic Gym teacher, Ms. Simeon. As their connection deepens, Hosea realizes he’s developed feelings for his teacher that go beyond admiration. But their love is forbidden, and the consequences of discovery could be devastating. Will Hosea and Simeon find a way to be together, or will the weight of tradition and dogma tear them apart?

In one day, Alana's life was changed forever when she discovered that her best friend was pregnant for her mate, the Alpha. Worse, he had accepted the unborn child whole heartedly and wants to make her Luna and claim her, giving her her rightful mate mark which he denied her. Was the moon goddess punishing me for my unknown sins or was this a chance for her to reject her Mate and find another who would worship the ground she walked on?

My father-in-law said he wanted to experience "how the young folks have fun these days," so I took him to my wife's newly opened upscale cocktail bar for a quiet drink. I’d just finished ordering him a custom cocktail when a man from a booth across the room swaggered over, glass in hand. His eyes scanned the drink menu on our table, and a condescending smirk twisted his lips. "Only ordering the cheapest well drinks?" he sneered. "Brought the old man here to enjoy the free air conditioning? Trash like you belongs in a dive bar. Who even let you in here?" Anger burned in my chest. I stood up, my jaw clenched. "We're paying customers. What's it to you?" But before I could say another word, his face darkened with pure rage. He snatched the half-finished beer bottle from our table and smashed it on my head. "My girl owns this place!" he snarled. "Even if I crack your skull open, I can afford the payout! You filthy pauper—either get on your knees and lick my shoes dry, or get the hell out of my sight. You're an eyesore." The beer dripped down my face. My hands trembled with fury as I wiped it away. Then, a cold calm settled over me. I opened my phone, switched to the camera, and went live. "Alright, everyone," I said into the screen. "You won't want to miss this. We're going live to catch my cheating wife and see the double life she's been leading."

On our anniversary, my husband, James Marshall, purchased a painting as a gift for me with my secondary credit card. When I got home, I went to my study to retrieve an urgent court document. The door was slightly ajar. Inside, I could hear the flirtatious voice of my assistant, Julie Summers, mingled with my husband’s low murmurs. “James, your wife is just a money-printing machine. What does she know about art? She could never appreciate you like I do.” James sighed. Then, in an indulgent tone, he said, “Claire is too perfect—so perfect it’s suffocating. Not like you, full of life and warmth.” Just then, my mother-in-law, Susan Marshall, called James. He put her on speakerphone. “James, you need to move faster. While Claire still trusts you, turn all her client contacts into yours. That Julie girl seems promising. She’s much easier to control than that iron-fisted career wife of yours.” I gripped the cold doorknob, listening to the pair of shameless lovers in the study and the wretched woman on the phone, and immediately drafted a divorce agreement. At the same time, I forwarded asset-protection filings for all my holdings to my legal team. “I’ll see you all in court, parasites.”

Late one night after getting off work, I was scrolling through my company group chat when a colleague shared a piece of news. The headline was horrifying. "Night-Shift Courier Murdered During Delivery, Police Suspect Robbery." I zoomed in on the crime scene photo that had been partially pixelated, and a chill ran straight down my spine. Lying in a pool of blood, the courier who had been hacked to death was unmistakably me. I had scrolled into news of my own death. Almost at the same time, my delivery app began vibrating violently. "Urgent pickup! Destination: Unit 704 Hawthorne Ridge Apartments, Building 7. Time limit: 15 minutes. Penalty for timeout: Death." As I stared at the notification that read "Pickup failed three times", the searing pain of my brutal death surged through my body. So that was it. I had already died three times. When I forced open the half-closed security door of 704 for the fourth time, a thin delivery envelope lay quietly inside. I tore it open. A photograph slipped out. It was a picture of my dismembered body. The timestamp showed tomorrow at 7:00 a.m. On the back was a single line written in fresh blood: "Next time, remember to pick it up on time." At that moment, the red indicator light on the hallway surveillance camera suddenly went dark. I looked up. From the ventilation opening in the exact same spot, a single eye was staring straight at me. The mole at the corner of that eye was identical to mine.