celestial gods

Originally aiming for a groundbreaking achievement, I inadvertently ended up being credited for a crime I didn't commit. Living carefree like me, Cloud Lord, how did I manage to provoke the perpetually poker-faced Lord Silu? Ghost hunting, demon slaying, battling monsters—those celestial restraints are constantly looming over my head. But why do I feel like that impassive face, which wouldn't flinch even if the sky were to collapse, always wants to flirt with me?!

BLURB:They call me the Alpha of my pack. The protector of my kind. I'm Jaydon Woods, and this is my story. Embracing the dual life the gods granted me as a Supernatural- being part human and part werewolf- I had understood the responsibilities placed upon me and the sudden urge to protect my people at all times from the malevolence that plunged the world from its natural order. It never occurred to me of how much of life I would miss in the process… until I met her. Olivia Reyes- she was a gift from the other side given to me to open my eyes. I had to know her for her presence alone changed the shape of orchestrated life. She was human, but I didn't seem to care. She was the one- the phenomenon to change the course of my destiny. Against all odds, fighting all trials and tribulations, Olivia and I defy the laws of the Supernatural to find a happy ending in a world that seemed to want to tear us apart.

I stretched lazily on the bed, much like a contented kitten, before opening my eyes. Hovering above me was a face that could have been sculpted by the gods—a handsome, well-defined face with sun-kissed golden eyes. My first groggy thought was that Cara had finally brought home a decent, well-groomed man for a change. But…. Why is he in my room? I abruptly shoved him away, ending the spell. "Get off your asshole!" With a scowl on my face, I got up quickly. “Was personal space not mentioned by Clara, huh?” I spoke in an irritated tone. “Clara?” He turned and casually picked up some papers from a nearby table, settling down with an annoying smile. “And who might that be, if I may ask?” He doesn’t even remember her? Asshole “Well, if you must know, Clara—” I started, but my words faltered as something shiny caught my eye. What is..? Then my memories began to flood back. —it’s a damn golden sofa. Shit. Brain Freeze. ~~~ Growing up as the oldest kid on a Chicago farm was no picnic for Mary Johnson. Her folks, good ol' Mr. and Mrs. Becky Johnson, were salt-of-the-earth types, who worked hard on their small farm not far from the gritty backstreets of Chicago. They taught Mary and her siblings the value of hard work, self-value. But as much as Mary loved her family, she dreamed big, but those dreams took a backseat when she needed to step up and help support her family. Then, out of the blue, fate threw her a curveball. A chance in the US came knocking, and Mary didn't hesitate. And then she crossed paths with the Blacks – New York’s high society, dripping with wealth and power, who offered her a deal she couldn’t refuse.