Bella Moondragon

Prince Rafe leans over me, holding himself up on one elbow as he gazes at my face. I feel his eyes wandering over every surface from my brow to my eyes, down my nose, to my lips and chin, and then returning to hold my gaze for a second. The small smile at the corner of his mouth makes me think he likes what he sees.
His hand is cool when it brushes a loose curl from my cheek, but I don’t jerk away from him. I have no idea what’s going on. I don’t understand why I’m here. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow. It seems like a lot of powerful people want me—dead or alive. And yet, all I can think about right now is how badly I want this vampire’s hands on my body.
***
I live in a desolate village on the edge of the Vampire King’s lands. This used to be wolf shifter territory, but now, we are just trying to survive.
When I mess up and find myself in a culling, I know I’m dead. No wolf shifters ever survive these events.
And after the stunt I pulled in the middle of the village, Prince Rafe probably wants me dead.
Is it a good thing or a bad thing when a vampire looks at you like you’re a snack?
Something tells me, once I reach the castle, I’ll be missing my miserable existence in the village.
But then—it turns out I have no freaking idea who I even am, and when the royals start referring to me as Princess Ainslee, I realize my life is about to take a turn—for better or worse.

The Luna's Vampire Prince

Window, bathroom, armoire, bed. Window, bathroom, armoire, bed. Window, bathroom, armoire, bed. 


“Princess, you’re going to wear a hole in the carpet,” Zoey says, watching me pace. 


I growl deep in my throat. “I can’t believe this! How did Kris get his claws into the guard and the nobles and everyone so quickly?!” 


“I would guess he’s been working at it a long time, my lady,” Zoey replies. 


“Of course, he has. That bastard!” I shout, kicking a dresser. It shudders ominously. 


“Princess, are you all right? Did you hurt yourself?” Zoey asks, alarmed. 


I grimace and rub my toes. “A little,” I admit. 


“There really is no use in you kicking the furniture and breaking your toes. The prince wouldn’t like it,” Zoey admonishes me. 


My Future Wife