Willow Winters – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Willow Winters – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com Fri, 03 Apr 2026 23:15:46 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.wownovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Willow Winters – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com 32 32 Hexes and Hearts Read Online W. Winters, Willow Winters http://www.wownovels.com/hexes-and-hearts-read-online-w-winters-willow-winters Fri, 03 Apr 2026 23:15:46 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/hexes-and-hearts-read-online-w-winters-willow-winters Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Myth/Mythology, Paranormal Authors: W. Winters, Willow Winters Advertisement

Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)

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What’s better than a spicy fantasy romance?

How about three featuring a recluse witch in the woods discovering her fated mate, a twist on Hansel and Gretel, and the mysterious librarian welcoming a ghostly encounter to heat up the night.

All three have a pinch of cozy but a heaping amount of steam!

Fall in love with the fantasy again and again in this collection of witchy romances.
Titles included
The Witch’s Fate
Never Have I Ever
Haunted Desires

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Idalis

Some say it’s dreadful, but I love my life.

My days in the meadow usually take on a similar shape. In the summertime, I rise early in the morning because the land rises early. The song of the birds is my wake-up call. That’s the best time of day to tend my garden beds. Weeding in the heat of the afternoon is asking to become ill from too much sun, even if you do have magic. The morning sun is much better.

When I’m finished, I might walk to the small pond at the edge of the forest closest to my house and bathe. Then I have a bite to eat and bake bread, and finish any work left from the day before. With a flick of my hand the pages turn, and I read a bit in the warmth of the sun. Though I’ve already read my small collection of books many times over, a new book every so often comes my way and I enjoy the studies as much as the adventures. New spells come to me, and I refine them as much as I can before I write them down for anyone else to see. My grimoire is full of scribbles, but the papers I submit are proper and complete. Although I substitute some concoctions so no one may reverse the much-needed remedies.

My magic is powerful and yet, so often, I feel at peace in the quiet and lonesome. I look forward to long days of a gentle breeze and a divine sunset.

It’s not quite summer yet, but it has been a warm spring, and I look forward to what is coming…no matter how unfortunate others claim my life to be. They know not of what a sanctuary it has become, they know only of why the powerful witch lives by herself and why no others join me.

There is almost no chill in the wind anymore as I go about my late spring routine, yearning for more warmth and the life it brings. Soon it will be high summer, with the crickets singing in the grasses of the field and late sunsets and those early, early mornings.

In the wintertime, I go to see if I’ve received any letters when the suns are highest. I don’t care for the cold much but thankfully the winter is the shortest of seasons where I reside. Now, in the spring, I wait until the warmest part of the day is fading into late afternoon before I cross the field to the box where letters manifest themselves. A courier from the closest village leaves mail for me in a faraway land. A spell I cast years ago allows the letters to find themselves here. They call me a recluse, but I consider myself careful. After what happened, I take no risks, and my life is all I’ve ever wanted…mostly.

The ground beneath my feet is warm as I cross the field barefoot. The tall grass tickles my ankles and my thin linen dress drags behind me. Surely it will be dirty at its hem from the travels, but I love the way it feels, the way the wind blows back the sheer material. It reminds me of other times when I danced with my sisters under the full moon. Sisters who are no more.

When I’m tending to the gardens, I wear a straw hat to hide from the rays, but I take it off and let it swing from my fingers on my walk. A simple flick and the hat twirls beside me following the path I gave it.

The box is at the edge where the field meets the trees. A crossroads was needed, and nature provided it for me only a mile or so from my cottage. It’s near the path that leads to the clearing but not across it. My house is visible from this part of the path, but only at a distance, and if you’re not looking, you probably won’t notice. No one ventures here though. Not for years. Not since my request to Chamberlain Colson. I’m grateful it was granted, but had it not been, I would have cast a shadow and hid there.

I turn my back on that small glimpse of my home, its thatched roof, wisteria growing up the side of the chimney, and light blue shutters accenting a dark blue door, and then approach the letter box. Even from a distance, the Canterbury bells and roses are visible, and if I focus and allow the noise to quiet beside me, I can vaguely scent the florals. Sweet and light and providing a decadence most do not know they should wish for.

The box itself is sturdy, made of thick planks and four logs with a door in the upper half wide enough to fit the rare parcel that might come and not much else. It took me weeks to build it, the magic was particular for such a long-distance physical manifestation. Still I cast protective spells whenever I think of it.

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Collared for Christmas – Highest Bidder Read Online W. Winters, Willow Winters http://www.wownovels.com/collared-for-christmas-highest-bidder-read-online-w-winters-willow-winters Fri, 03 Apr 2026 23:15:11 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/collared-for-christmas-highest-bidder-read-online-w-winters-willow-winters Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic, Novella Authors: W. Winters, Willow Winters Advertisement

Total pages in book: 11
Estimated words: 10240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 51(@200wpm)___ 41(@250wpm)___ 34(@300wpm)

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From Wall Street Journal & USA TODAY Bestselling Author Willow Winters comes a Highest Bidder Holiday Short

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

JOSHUA

Isigh heavily at my desk knowing I shouldn’t be doing this. But I fucking want to. I lean back in the leather chair, staring across the room with the tips of my fingers tapping on the Mahogany desk.

It’s been years since I’ve seen her and now that I’ve had a glimpse of my sweet cherry, I can’t get her out of my head.

What’s worse is she didn’t even see me. Or maybe it’s better that way. I’m not sure.

It was her voice that made me turn. The soft cadence that spilled from those beautiful lips. Had I never heard her, I wouldn’t have seen her. It’s incredible how sometimes fate gives you just enough of a glimpse to change everything.

I close my eyes remembering the sweet sound of her voice. She ordered a salted caramel coffee and a blueberry muffin to go. I huff a small laugh at the memory. She always had a sweet tooth. Her pale pink, A-line dress flowed below her hips as she moved across the glass display case, smiling sweetly as the young man handed her the muffin.

She nibbled on the muffin as she waited for her coffee. Those plump lips parting ever so slightly as she pushed a stray crumb into her mouth and sucked gently on her finger. She’ll never know just how tempting and sexy she is without even trying. The sight made my dick twitch. I remember how she wrapped those lips around my cock and owned me as she sucked me off. I groan in my chair trying to push the past out of my mind.

I was stuck there, in my seat at the far corner of the coffee shop, frozen in time, watching her as though I weren’t really there. The paper in my lap and an espresso on the small, white table in front of me, I stared at her with desire.

I couldn’t believe she was there right in front of me. As if the time hadn’t passed and we hadn’t parted all those years ago. I sat there in awe until she accepted her coffee with a smile, taking a sip as she strode to the front, shifting the purse on her shoulder as she pushed the door open and left, blending into the hustle and bustle of the city.

I smile at the memory, back when we were together, she never drank coffee. It doesn’t surprise me that she ordered it flavored and added so much damn sugar to it.

I had no idea she’d moved to the city. I had no clue she was anywhere near me. My Cherry.

I’m ashamed to remember how I followed her to her office building. The winter air blowing in my face and the Christmas carolers already out in the morning on the corners of the busy streets. I walked into the sleek skyrise with shiny steel and tall glass windows. I’ve driven past this building a thousand times. I remember thinking there’s no way she’s been this close to me all this time.

I walked in behind her and watched as she walked through the marble floored lobby of Parker-Moore and confidently strode towards the elevator. I walked to the fountain in the center of the lobby and watched as she took small bites of what was left of the muffin, waiting for the elevator to ding and take her away from me.

I look back to the screen on my computer. All of her information is there. Alena Morgan. She’s a chief advisor for a prominent sales company now. After years of schooling and a prestigious internship. Now she’s back. Back in my life with her dreams accomplished.

And according to her background check, her name is the only one on the lease.

Which means she’s single. As far as I can tell she is.

I fucking hope she is. I want her now even more than I wanted her then. I knew I’d hold her back, I knew she needed more from life than what I had to offer back then. Fuck, we were only just experiencing life and I wanted to keep her all to myself. I felt selfish and like an asshole for making her feel like she needed to run. And when she walked away, I let her go without fighting.

The day she left me tore a hole in my heart, filled only by my work. I worked in private security with a good friend of mine, Isaac. Every fucking day, I was working. Trying to ignore the fact that I’d let her slip away.

She was mine. Had I told her no, she wasn’t leaving, I think she would have rebelled, but I could have disciplined her and she would have fucking loved it. She would have seen how good it felt. How much she wanted it as much as I did. We could have made it work. But back then, I wasn’t the man I am now and I sure as fuck wasn’t the Dom I am now.

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His in The Fire (Hades & Persephone Duology #2) Read Online W. Winters, Willow Winters http://www.wownovels.com/his-in-the-fire-hades-persephone-duology-2-read-online-w-winters-willow-winters Thu, 26 Feb 2026 08:21:29 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/his-in-the-fire-hades-persephone-duology-2-read-online-w-winters-willow-winters Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Dark, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Myth/Mythology, Paranormal Authors: W. Winters, Willow Winters Series: Hades & Persephone Duology Series by W. Winters
Series: Willow Winters
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Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)

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From USA Today Bestselling Author Willow Winters comes the second part in the sizzling Hades & Persephone Duet.

Ripped away from Olympus to the Underworld was a hell of its own making, but so is returning.
Leaving behind Hades and my rightful place as Queen of the Underworld caused an agony I’ve never known before.
What’s worse is that the war has not come to an end and my place in Olympus is questioned by all because of Hades’ demands. My mother will stop at nothing to have me safe with her and neither will Hades.

I’m left torn between life, Olympus, my mother and the throne I was always meant to have beside my lover, the King of the Dead.
I miss him dearly, I crave his touch and I need the love I felt so strongly in his presence.
What brings me the most fear though, is my own thoughts and my own power. The threat of losing what I had is enough to make me question my sanity. My mother would starve the world for me, Hades would burn it. But myself… What I’m willing to do as the suffering intensifies is blasphemy and terrifies me to my core.
There’s no going back and in this place I must find peace and balance before it’s too late.

I know one thing for certain: after dark, there will always be light. If that wasn’t true, the dark would not have a name…
And I crave both.

Please note: His in the Dark must be read first

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Playlist

Little Girl Gone - Chinchilla

Lily - Alan Walker, K-391

Light Em’ Up - Fall Out Boy

Bones - Imagine Dragons

Take me to church - Hozier

You Give Love A Bad Name - Bon Jovi

Sweet Dreams - Eurythmics

Persephone

Olympus is blinding.

The shoes click on the white marble floor with every step I take, and I can barely breathe. Hecate’s hand protectively around my arm holds me close, and I…I can’t see. It is the brightest light I have ever encountered. One moment, I was in the Underworld and the next, the mother of crossroads and keeper of the keys has taken me home.

I cover my eyes with a stifled gasp as my legs find grounding. Hecate’s grip tightens, but only so much that I may rely on her for support. She’s strong. I’ve always known such things, but now I can feel her power in her touch.

She pauses as my body stiffens and I heave in a breath, my head light.

Her eyes are vacant as I look up to her and yet they hold so many memories.

“Are you well?” Hecate whispers. Her voice echoes as if I’ve heard it three times. The mother, the maiden, the crone. All of her is concerned.

“Yes,” I answer in a hushed tone. I am not well though. My heart screams the truth. My soul is torn and where I belong is unknown to me. Fate has meant to torture me.

Her eyes flash as if she knows. As if she can hear every thought that races through me.

Unable to meet her gaze, my eyes adjust to my surroundings. Olympus.

Everything has changed during my time in the Underworld. I found myself there, my power and my strength. I learned to live without the fear of what was to come, and now I have been ripped away. Or rather I ripped myself away.

The words Hades and Hecate spoke ring in my ears. The words she said to me:

No magic will save you now. You must come back to the world that is now forever changed.

We have both changed, I answered, and now I know it is true. The girl I was before I went to the Underworld would never have found the light of Olympus to be so harsh.

And what Hades said to Hecate…

Do not leave her side. Do not betray me.

His own words were a betrayal to me, though. I’d fallen for him, truly and deeply. And yet he spoke in front of me as though there were conversations I may not partake in. Could he have made a deal with Hecate about me? Did they have some understanding before Hecate appeared in the Underworld?

You have betrayed me. That was what Hecate replied. I am no fool. There were conversations Hades participated in that I was not privy to. It all happened too fast. I was kept in the dark, and resentment bleeds in slowly with that knowledge.

Why didn’t Hades tell me? The memory of his voice sends chills through me.

Hecate is coming. There is too much death, my queen. The gods have created an imbalance.

My mind spins with these revelations. I inhale deeply. I will not allow myself to slip into feeling small. That is how I felt when I discovered I had been taken to the Underworld, and it cost me days I could have done more with. Instead, those days were filled with tears and despair.

“Are you sure?” Hecate questions. My gaze searches hers. Comfort lies beyond her concern. As if this is meant to be.

“It is…very bright,” I manage to say, my eyes stinging as they adjust. “And the Underworld…” I whisper, unable to complete the thought. It was chaos in the Underworld. Parts of Hades’s realms collapsed, crumbling as I watched. Souls poured through the sky above us, and Hades moved through the vast space so quickly I could not fathom the power it must have taken. “I cannot see. I need a moment to adjust.”

Her grip loosens only so she may hold my hand as I come to terms with all that has happened.

I crave to go back to Hades. For him to stand at my side. I need to go back to my power, to the rooms I had grown used to, and to the magic I had been working on.

My magic. My heart stutters, and the doubt I once felt returns only to fall silent to the ringing in my ears.

The marble remains steady under my feet.

I blink slowly, forcing myself to stare at the floor. Even the floor is bright with light reflecting off it. It is a strange light, though.

The room Hecate and I are standing in is spacious and cool, but it looks out on a courtyard with white smoke drifting through it. A large pot has been tipped over and cracked, its pieces lying scattered where it fell. There is more smoke wafting above the roof.

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His in the Dark (Hades & Persephone Duology #1) Read Online W. Winters, Willow Winters http://www.wownovels.com/his-in-the-dark-hades-persephone-duology-1-read-online-w-winters-willow-winters Wed, 07 Jan 2026 10:41:18 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/his-in-the-dark-hades-persephone-duology-1-read-online-w-winters-willow-winters Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Myth/Mythology, Paranormal Authors: W. Winters, Willow Winters Series: Hades & Persephone Duology Series by W. Winters
Series: Willow Winters
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Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 94417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)

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There are two things I’ve always known:
Magic is real.
The Gods have no mercy for women like me.

I was born into power although what little I have is dying. Nonetheless, I’ve been protected all my life. There are myths and tales that say one day I will come to a fork in a long, long path. Either the light will take me or the dark. I never paid any mind to the whispers and warnings…

Until he crept into my window late at night.

Cloaked in darkness, silent as death. Every inch of me felt terror and yet I also felt something else. Something I’d never known.

He tasted like sin … and I loved it.

In a single moment, my entire world went dark and I was nothing more than a captive in the Underworld.
Nothing but his and suddenly all the lore brought a chill to my bones… even if he did light a fire in the most secret depths of me.

Prepare for a dark retelling of Hades and Persephone with spells and war and a love story that would change our world forevermore

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PLAYLIST

Ashley Sienna & Ellise - Pretty In The Dark

Sam Tinnesz - Play with Fire

Neoni - Wonderland

Neoni - Darkside

Billie Eilish - you should see me in a crown

PROLOGUE

Hades

With the fire crackling and the rustling of the sheets, she turns over in my bed. There’s a sultry, sinful look in her dark eyes, filled with lust as she peers back at me. The innocence is still there as she pulls the silk threads to her chest and her pouty lips, slightly swollen from pleasuring me slip open at the sight of me towering over her.

My Persephone. My Queen.

Her chest rises and falls with heavy breaths.

“The blush in your cheeks adds to your beauty,” I murmur and kneel on the bed, intent to crawl to her, to spread her thighs and bring her to the highest of pleasures with my tongue, but she hesitates. Her doe eyes go wide. She leans back slightly, against the headboard and brings the sheets up higher.

A deep groan of discontent bellows up my chest at her actions. The voices of warning hiss at my impatience.

She will be mine in every way. Every possible essence of her will bear my mark.

Time, the warning echoes in the back of my head. In time … she will be yours.

The Fates’ foretellings ease the beast inside of me who yearns for her complete submission. Her love and acceptance and the gratitude she has yet to display. Apart from crying out my name only moments ago on this very bed.

I imagine my cum still leaks from her cunt. The pleasure still surges in her blood as it does mine.

I thought the deed was done… but there’s so much more that must happen.

“Are you sated then?” I question her, intent on fixing the error of my ways. If only for her.

She stares at me, her mind playing tricks on her no doubt and the magic depleting her even more so than it has in the last months of her capture.

“My Queen,” I get her attention, “You created that,” I gesture to the flames on the back wall.

There’s a hitch in her breath. Her eyes widening as the flames reflect in her darkened eyes. “You have power in pleasure. Power that was always meant to be yours,” I tell her and ease myself to the back of the bed. Her gaze flicks to mine then back to the raging fire. The flames lick up the wall, leaving black marks in their wake. They will scar and remind her, she herself is a fire no one can tame.

The very thought brings me pleasure.

“Is that not divine?” I ask her in a whisper. “Is it not power?”

Her eyes come back to me and I know she ponders my question although she’s silent. I will break her and remake her in the way she so desperately needs.

She was born a Goddess but prior to me, before I took her in against her will, she would have faded. She knows this. How can she not love me when I give her such a gift? When I pine for her and her glory. I fucking worship her and still she stares back at me as if I am nothing but an enemy. Even after what we just had. Even after all I’ve done for her.

“It is not my magic,” she responds, her eyes turning glassy although there’s a spark there, almost defiant. Her spine straightens as the glow of the flames lick along the soft curve of her neck and the ambers glint in the darkness of her gaze.

“It is not what I was created for. I am the Goddess of Life and there is only death here,” she whispers, soft and gentle, her words caressing although they’re in rebellion. Does she not know the power in that? The magic that fills the room when she’s lost in the role she was meant to play.

The Goddess of Life can still rule the dead.

The bed groans with my weight as I make my way to her, naked and wanting. As she stays perfectly still, no longer in questioning or hesitancy but more so in rebellion, my cock hardens. I want nothing more than to hear her moan my name again and again as I give her undeniable pleasure.

Ever so gently, I brush my thumb against her jaw. The softness of her skin is at odds with the calluses that I’ve earned through brutality. Her eyes close slowly, and she leans into me just slightly. Progress. Heat rages through my blood. There is still hope that I will win this war, although the warning from the Fates echoes in the back of my mind as I kiss her. Her blood is hot as she deepens it. Her fists tighten in the sheets as she resists grabbing me, keeping herself from clinging to me.

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Fast and Dirty Read Online W. Winters, Willow Winters http://www.wownovels.com/fast-and-dirty-read-online-w-winters-willow-winters Thu, 25 Dec 2025 22:04:27 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/fast-and-dirty-read-online-w-winters-willow-winters Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Erotic, MC Authors: W. Winters, Willow Winters Series: Series by W. Winters
Series: Willow Winters
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Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >29

A drink at the bar. A walk down the late night roads in the bad part of town. One man behind her, his steps too close and his pace a little too fast. She should have known better

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Marie

As my pace picks up, so do the steps behind me.

Following me.

Tracking me.

There’s nothing to listen to on this empty street other than our echoing strides and my anxious breathing. The clacking of his shoes against the pavement resonates loud in my ears. The sound of my heels is nothing compared to the loud thuds from whoever the fuck is back there. It has to be a man. Those steps are too damn heavy to belong to anyone under two hundred pounds.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I’m too nervous to look behind me. In the movies, when they look back, that’s when they have to start running. You run or you die. Even though in most cases it’s too late by that point. Anyway, I’m in no condition to run.

I’m tipsy and in three-inch black studded Jimmy Choos that my mom got me for my twenty-fifth birthday. I’m not fucking stupid; if I started running, I wouldn’t make it one minute before he caught me. At least right now whoever it is back there is keeping some distance. For now … I shake the unwanted thought away.

Maybe he’s not following me, I tell myself over and over. He’s just walking to his car or another bar; maybe he’s just walking home. But after a few blocks the sound of him following me is unbearable. My heart rate picks up as the reality sets in. This isn’t good. There’s no way this is a coincidence.

A bad man is behind me, I know that much. There’s no way in hell he’s not following me. If he had good intentions, he would’ve said something by now. At some point he’ll get closer and then I’ll have to run. But I’m definitely going to make him work for it. If he wants to put his hands on me, then he’s going to have to catch me and fight me. I’m not going to be a good little victim.

I wonder if I should throw down my clutch when I take off. It might distract him for a few minutes. Maybe he’s only after money. I stare down at the simple black Coach clutch hanging from my wrist. Inside is a mere twenty in cash, my dead iPhone, raspberry lip gloss, and my ID. If he makes a move, I’m dropping it ASAP. I just hope the prick sees it and decides that’s what he wants.

My confidence vanishes as I hear the steps growing closer behind me. The noise brings me back to this shit reality. Who knows what the guy behind me wants, but I’ll save my strength for now and continue to pray that I’m not going to be mugged … or worse. I’m not a fool; at some point I’m going to have to book it. I’m saving my energy for when that time comes.

I try to steady myself, but it’s so fucking cold out, just breathing hurts. I took a cab to get here and that was a mistake. Cabs don’t come around this part of town unless they’re dropping you off. And my phone died before I left the bar, so I couldn’t call for a ride anyway. So I’m royally fucked unless I can make it to the train station. I fucking hate taking the train, but right now I would beg on my hands and knees to be there this very second. I doubt the man behind me will let me get close to the train station. Tears prick my eyes, but I shake them off. I’m not going to cry.

I hug my shaking shoulders as best I can while keeping up my pace and try to think. My hands are freezing. My black cashmere cardigan isn’t anywhere near thick enough for the cold night air and the gloves that I thought were in the pockets are now missing. I debate on whether I should rub my hands back and forth against my upper arms or shove them in my pockets. Snap! The sound of something being crushed underfoot behind me makes me stumble as my legs lock up in fear. I shove my hands in my pockets and will my body to keep moving forward. I keep my eyes down and watch my warm breath turn to fog while the crumbling concrete moves beneath my heels.

What the hell was I thinking, listening to Lexi? She’s a flake and lately she’s been a shit friend. She wanted me to meet her so she’d have a wingwoman to help her score the sexy tattoo artist who touched up her ink last week. I remember her eyes lighting up when he mentioned the dive bar he goes to nearly every night after his shift. She’s such a sucker for tattooed men. And that place was filled with them. She would’ve been in heaven … had she bothered to show up. Well maybe not heaven, since the guy she had her heart set on was busy with some bimbo who had her breasts on full display. From the way he was staring at them you’d have thought he was having a full-on conversation with her tits.

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Never Have I Ever Read Online W. Winters, Willow Winters http://www.wownovels.com/never-have-i-ever-read-online-w-winters-willow-winters Thu, 25 Dec 2025 22:03:46 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/never-have-i-ever-read-online-w-winters-willow-winters Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Novella Authors: W. Winters, Willow Winters Series: Series by W. Winters
Series: Willow Winters
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Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24325 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)

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From USA Today Bestselling Authors W. Winters & Amelia Wilde, comes a dark, spicy retelling of a twisted tale...

Everyone knows the tale of Hansel & Gretel.

The innocence that was taken from them and the torture the witch put them through.
But what happened after they burned the witch in the oven?

With scars and memories of horror, their lives were forever changed, until one day the trail leads back to that cottage in the woods

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Never Have I Ever

Everyone knows the tale of Hansel and Gretel.

The innocence that was taken from them and the torture the witch put them through.

But what happened after they burned the witch in the oven?

With scars and memories of horror, their lives were forever changed, until one day the trail leads back to that cottage in the woods...

Gretel

Once upon a time, I fell in love with a boy.

That was before the curse started. After we killed the witch who kept us captive and thought we’d be safe. We were wrong.

The first hardship to strike our small town was the famine. Crops struggled to grow. The plants that managed to push themselves above the soil were weak and withered. Most of the harvest died in the fields, eaten by insects or infested with blight. The townsfolk kept smiles on their faces in the beginning, reassuring one another that it was only an unlucky year—that the next harvest would be bountiful, and we would forget how hungry we’d gotten.

We replanted the crops the next spring, and for a while, it seemed like all would be well again. Everyone in the village took turns guarding the fields from pests, saying prayers over the budding plants whenever we could. Spring turned the countryside green around us, and as the weather warmed, people started to have faith once again, satisfied that the worst was over.

But the weather didn’t stop warming. Spring became a hot, dry summer, with the earth crumbling under our feet and coating everything into dust. The crops would survive, we thought, as long as we kept the fields watered.

But no well would be deep enough. There aren’t enough buckets in the world, or hands to carry them, to protect every inch.

The wildfire came from the forest. It tore through the fields, destroying every last crop. It’s hard to deny that we brought the famine. It was on everyone’s mind, I’m sure. The witch wasn’t dead and her curse would never be forgotten.

The small town sifted through the ashes, looking for seeds, or new growth. Anything that would serve as a sign we were meant to live. That we could recover. Two unlucky years surely wouldn’t become a pattern. No God could be so cruel.

I don’t know which God was watching over our village. If any deity looked over our village, he couldn’t have been kind.

I was in love before the hardships. Before the barren fields and hot winds and bitter winters. Before my stomach pinched with hunger and my mouth got dry with thirst.

Before, when all he wanted was taffy, and all I wanted was a cool drink of water on a warm summer day. When all I wanted in the world was to see him smile.

Hansel, the boy who survived hell with me. The boy who I watched become a man. A man I loved. A man I could never have.

His smile was like a clear spring running through the forest and a lush field brimming with crops. It was like sneaking away to pick flowers in the meadow. It was a smile full of promises and secrets, and he gave it to me like I was fresh rain and sunshine.

And all I had to do to see it was knock on the wooden door to his house. He’d answer with a smile, and I couldn’t help smiling back.

That was years ago. Before the witch. Now we’re left with the barren after.

I wish I could go back. I wish I could keep the crops in the fields and snuff out the fire with my fingers before it could burn everything down. I wish I could stop what happened before we ever set foot on that long, dirt road by the old farms.

Before we ever found the witch’s house.

But I can’t.

I can’t change the past.

I can’t change that he hates me now.

And I can’t stop what’s already started.

I stand outside that wooden door, the paint chipped and scratched and the winter wind whistling through my clothes. No matter how many layers I wear, the frigid air goes straight to my skin. It’s so cold that my teeth ache. My cheeks burn from the blistering cold.

I can’t count how many times I fell asleep dreaming about being in this very spot. It always held possibility for me. The moment before I knocked on this door was always like the moment before opening a gift—giddy anticipation that I knew would be followed by delight.

Now, outside Hansel’s door, I wish I was standing anywhere else.

I swallow thickly, trying not to think of all of his smiles. Isn’t there any other way through this?

There isn’t. I know there isn’t. I was up half the night pacing and trying to think of some other solution. In the end, I came up with nothing.

I wish I didn’t have to tell him.

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Haunted Desires Read Online W. Winters, Willow Winters http://www.wownovels.com/haunted-desires-read-online-w-winters-willow-winters Wed, 19 Nov 2025 18:27:05 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/haunted-desires-read-online-w-winters-willow-winters Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Vampires Authors: W. Winters, Willow Winters Advertisement

Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 99(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 66(@300wpm)

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From USA Today Bestselling Authors Willow Winters & Amelia Wilde comes a spicy short, perfect for spooky season.

At first, it was a crush — then it was a spell.

He’s tall, handsome, and mysterious… and the librarian for the ancient texts. Basically, a witch’s dream.

Cue Hazel, the owner of a charming little shop on Main Street called Bewitched Boutique. In need of town records, she finds herself visiting the library more often, sharing stolen glances with the object of her growing affection.

When Hazel’s crush turns into a burning need to kiss Finley, she decides a spell is in order.
Little does she know, Finley’s past comes with haunted desires of its own

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Hazel

If you want to become a witch, the first thing you must do is learn your soul’s own history.

That means tracing your family tree and finding out what kind of woman your mother was, and your grandmother, and her grandmother. That means researching as much as you can about your father’s grandmother, and her grandmother, and every other woman you can discover until you lose the trail.

At least that’s what the last book I read told me. Why? Because magic comes from the marrow of our bones, and witches pass those sparks of magic waiting to be ignited down to their daughters, and it changes along the way, adapting, surviving and waiting… especially if one of those women tried to fight her true nature and forget about magic and spirits entirely.

I think every girl goes through a Salem witch trials phase. I went through mine in middle school, which is when I started to look into any possible witchy history my family had and I found a lot more than I expected. The delight is still as nerve wracking as it is thrilling. That small moment in time before denial settled in.

It didn’t seem real to me then—I was too young to understand the true power of spells and intentions and history—so once that phase burned out, I left it behind. I lived my life and finished school and went off to college. A business degree seemed practical. A minor in botany and herbalism is less so, but I was drawn to it.

That was where history found me again.

Cedar Lane kept popping up in all my research projects. Even my hobbies somehow found a way to be related. It was like the world was pushing me back to the path my ancestors had forged for me. Maybe even to bring me back to where I started—a full circle kind of thing.

So when I heard through a friend that Merideth, an older woman with thin rimmed spectacles and wrinkles around her eyes that show her age, wanted someone to take over her little shop on Main Street, I knew it wasn’t a coincidence. Cedar Lane was calling me home. Complete with a witchy shop of candles, crystals, books and a backroom of curiosities. And of course a little corner with tea and coffee and pastries from the corner bakery. After all Merideth always had time for tea and tea leaf readings.

Now Bewitched Boutique is all mine. Plants crowd the windowsill. Rosemary, mint thyme and basil along with a beautiful pothos that climbs the bookshelf. With a little bell that dings every so often, lifting my eyes from my family heritage to the rainy outdoors of Main Street. The narrow storefront is like a second home to me, and I’ve tried to make it into a second home for anyone who wanders in. I keep an electric kettle on hand for people who like tea and a pot of coffee on hand complete with all the syrups. Although I can’t offer a reading, I am not attuned in those ways. I keep Merideth’s bell chimes by the door for protection. And I do my best to keep anything a local witch might need in stock, too. I’m constantly accepting deliveries of dried herbs and crystals and tarot cards. Lavender and sage are popular. Not as popular as black salt though, a necessity for protection. Oddly enough rose bath bombs for aphrodite baths and yellow candles to light for success can hardly stay on the shelves. It’s interesting what I pick up on the person across the registry while I ring in their order. I always keep their secrets though. Especially those who come in with desperation and have questions. I’ve learned much in the years of my studies.

Some people in town think my shop is a joke. Some people think I’m running it out of kindness, or because I owed Merideth something. Some people think I want to make a profit off the occult history in the area.

As I close up shop for the day, I know the truth is different.

I run this shop—my shop—because it connects me to something deeper inside that I can’t place. It lets me feel the changes in Cedar Lane as the seasons pass and stand in the places my great-grandmothers walked before me.

Most of all, it lets me live close to the library. And with that thought, the clock turns 8 at night.

Locking the door, I readjust my bag on my shoulder, pull my hood up over my head, and make my way toward the library. My heart skips a beat as I go. My breath fogging in front of my face from the chilly fall night air.

It’s three blocks down and two blocks back from Main Street, and it’s one of the oldest buildings in town. My boots click on the pavement as I go. The roads are vacant this time of night. The soft patter of the light rain accompanies the clicking. The library started life as the town hall over a hundred and sixty years ago, then became the courthouse, and finally became the library when they built a new courthouse on the other side of town.

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Last First Kiss Read Online W. Winters, Willow Winters http://www.wownovels.com/last-first-kiss-read-online-w-winters-willow-winters Wed, 29 Oct 2025 22:15:37 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/last-first-kiss-read-online-w-winters-willow-winters Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic Authors: W. Winters, Willow Winters Advertisement

Total pages in book: 260
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)

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From USA Today Bestselling Author Willow Winters comes a collection of dark, spicy romances.

Love doesn’t come softly in these pages.

It creeps up. It burns, and it takes everything in its path.
These are romances forged in dark shadows, where obsession thrives and surrender to love and hope is the only escape.

This collection
Broken (A Dark standalone, abduction romance)
Forsaken (A Dark standalone, abduction romance)
Forget Me Not (A dark, psychological, standalone romance)
Sexy as Sin (A dark, MC standalone romance)

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Prologue

Olivia

* * *

The courtroom is quiet. I can hear someone in the back of the room clear their throat. I swallow thickly and try to avoid their gazes. But I'm on the witness stand, I can't avoid them or any of this.

They’re all watching me. Waiting for an answer. I feel like I’m suffocating. This is too much.

It reminds me of being in the room with him. With Kade. My eyes dart to him, and my mouth parts slightly as I remember the time I spent with him.

The other men would watch. He said I had to be perfect, and if I was he’d give me my freedom. And he did. He’s a man of his word. But this freedom feels empty and hollow. I wish I could take it back. Not our time together, just my wish to be set free.

“Miss Bell?” asks the prosecution, snapping me out of my reverie.

“Yes?” I ask warily. My fingers twist in my hand. My heartbeat picks up. I don’t want to be here. I’d give anything to go back.

They’re waiting for me to talk, to testify against him and give evidence that Kade’s a bad man. That he deserves to be imprisoned not only for what he did to me, but for everything else.

But I can’t. He did it to protect me. He had to do it. My voice is caught in my throat. My blood heats and chills at the same time. The thought of turning against him makes me sick.

My eyes focus on him, and all I want to do is to run to his side. I wish he could just take me away. Instead he’s on trial, and I’m left alone to deal with the aftermath of how my life has changed forever.

Tears prick my eyes as Kade nods his head and gives me a small, sad smile. He wants me to answer them. He wants me to be a good girl and tell them everything they want to know so I can go free. It’s time to let go, angel. I hear his words and I hate them. I don’t want to let go of him. I was his, and now I feel like I’m no one.

“Do you need me to repeat the question?” the old man says as he stares at me through his spectacles.

I shake my head. I know what he asked. I know what they want from me.

My body relaxes as I remember how he broke me down bit by bit. Now it seems calculated, as though he knew what he was doing. Like he used me. That’s what they keep telling me, they say that’s why I feel this way about him. But back then, it felt different. It felt as though he was helping me. I thought he needed me. He did need me.

His fingers gently slid down the curve of my hip. “My angel,” he whispered. His lips barely touched the shell of my ear, his hot breath sending chills down my shoulder. As his hand slid farther down, he groaned with satisfaction. I was always ready for him. I learned to love what he did. I learned to be perfect for him.

“Miss Bell, answer the question.” The judge’s voice rings out and makes my body jolt in the seat.

I clear my throat thinking about where I should start and what all I should tell them. My heart clenches in my chest. I don’t want to share it with them. Right now these memories are mine. They’ll ruin them. They’ll make me think my recollections are something they aren’t.

They want me to believe he never loved me, and that the feelings I have for him are false.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to believe.

The only thing I know that’s true is I fell in love with Kade and that now, because of him, I’m utterly and completely broken.

Olivia

Three months earlier…

I feel sick to my stomach. I wish I could just throw up and be done with this feeling, but it’s not from drinking too much, or food poisoning, or anything like that. I’m just sick of my life and the shitty position I put myself in.

Getting turned down for your ninth job interview sucks. And it was for a hair salon. Like, really? All I’d be doing is bookwork. It can’t be that fucking hard. I’m starting to think there’s no hope. That’s what makes me so damn sick. Like there’s nothing I can do, and I’m just screwed.

It’s been three weeks since I got expelled from the university. It was all over alcohol. They have a zero tolerance policy. So of course getting kicked out also meant losing my scholarships. And losing my scholarships meant losing my income, plus my part-time job in the registrar’s office. Which means when the rent is due, I’m fucked if I can't hurry up and land a job already.

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Depraved Lust – Dark Standalone Mafia Read Online W. Winters, Willow Winters http://www.wownovels.com/depraved-lust-dark-standalone-mafia-read-online-w-winters-willow-winters Sun, 12 Oct 2025 20:51:40 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/depraved-lust-dark-standalone-mafia-read-online-w-winters-willow-winters Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia Authors: W. Winters, Willow Winters Advertisement

Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >72

I’m a dangerous man. You may be fooled by my good looks and charm, but my eyes give it away.

I’m the hitman for the Valetti familia, and I’m damn good at what I do.
They want men to talk, and I make them talk. They want men gone — bang, it’s done. It’s as simple as that.

Until her.
She’s on my list, but I want her. On her knees and submitting to my every command.
I'll give her a simple choice — die, or be mine.

Formerly titled Bad A Dark Standalone Mafia Romance

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

Anthony

I stare at the picture from the envelope and feel so damn conflicted. I crumple the edges in my hand, not knowing if I really wanna go through with this. My eyes travel along each feature of her face, pausing to admire her large, brown eyes and long, thick lashes. She has gorgeous full lips I want to bite but also see wrapped around my cock. Her nails are done in a classic shade of red, and her light brown hair hangs over her shoulders in loose curls. Her breasts peek out just above the neckline of her flowing blouse. I wish I could slowly strip her out of those clothes. But I can’t. She’s not mine. Even worse, I’m supposed to kill her.

I shove the slip of paper back into the envelope containing the other photos, those hits I couldn’t give two shits about. They're for assholes who have it coming to them. One stole and ran in order to keep up with his addiction. You don’t steal from a mob boss and think you can get away with it. The second killed a made man. He knows it’s coming. Neither are doing a good job of hiding. They’ll be easy hits.

I take another swig from my beer and debate on taking the sheet back out. But I have her face memorized already. I want her. More than that, I want to break her. My thoughts are depraved, and I know it. I think back to the last chick I had. She liked to play. But that’s all it was to her. Play. I want the real thing. I want to earn a woman’s submission, earn her desire to please me through training. So far, it’s always been pretend. I’ve never had an opportunity like this. But it’s wrong. It’s so fucked up and wrong.

But then again, so am I.

I carve up assholes and kill them for a living. The torturing and their screams don't affect me in the least.

This broad has it coming to her, even if she doesn’t know it. She probably thought she was doing the right thing by going to the cops. She probably thinks she's safe in the witness protection program. She’s not. She didn’t know what she was doing, and now it’s my responsibility to make her disappear. She cost the Cassano familia a lot of money, but more than anything, they lost face. The fucker she was involved with doesn’t care that she’s on a hit list. He’s just pissed she ratted on them, even if the charges didn’t stick.

Killing her is purely about their pride and the deal they lost.

I grind my teeth and slowly peel back the label on my beer bottle. I have to be delicate, so it doesn’t tear apart.

Patience. I need patience. With everything I do, I need patience.

I’ve been looking into her, and I know she’d fit the part. Poor girl didn’t know what she was getting herself into when she started fucking around with a member of the Cassanos. She's a sweet little thing who thought she’d like a taste of the more dangerous things in life. I can give her more than a taste though. I can give her exactly what she was looking for and fulfil those fantasies I know she has. And she can give me what I’ve always wanted.

I spied on her again last night. She was reading one of her books, and I watched as it turned her on. Of course she had no idea, but I was right fucking there. The only thing separating us was a brick wall. With her window open, I clearly heard all those soft moans coming from her lips. I had to know what she was reading, so I snuck in and took a look around.

I Googled that book the second I got home. Her own dark desires sealed her fate.

She has deviant fantasies just like me. She’s fucking perfect.

“Anthony, you wanna talk now?” I hear Vince ask as he pulls up the stool to my right. I messaged him earlier. I place my bottle on the bar and push it to one side as the bartender slides Vince his usual Jack.

I lean back a bit and tap my knuckles on the bar before facing him. Vince is a ruthless fucker, and he doesn’t take any shit. He’s also my cousin, so I feel safe with him. But this is the mob, and he’s the Don. I’m never that safe.

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The Witch’s Fate – The Lunaterra Chronicles Read Online W. Winters, Willow Winters http://www.wownovels.com/the-witchs-fate-the-lunaterra-chronicles-read-online-w-winters-willow-winters Sat, 16 Aug 2025 22:26:21 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/the-witchs-fate-the-lunaterra-chronicles-read-online-w-winters-willow-winters Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Novella, Paranormal Authors: W. Winters, Willow Winters Advertisement

Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 48193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 241(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >53

From Bestselling Author Willow Winters, comes a dark, spicy Romantasy.

A reclusive moon witch.
A cursed wolf shifter.
A spell gone horribly wrong.

After being trapped in her realm after a storm, fate pushes them together.

However, they’ll soon discover that magic isn’t the only thing dangerous...
desire is far more perilous.

And yes, there's only one bed.

The Witch's Fate is a complete standalone within the Lunaterra Chronicles World

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

IDALIS

Some say it’s dreadful, but I love my life.

My days in the meadow usually take on a similar shape. In the summertime, I rise early in the morning because the land rises early. The song of the birds is my wake-up call. That’s the best time of day to tend my garden beds. Weeding in the heat of the afternoon is asking to become ill from too much sun, even if you do have magic. The morning sun is much better.

When I’m finished, I might walk to the small pond at the edge of the forest closest to my house and bathe. Then I have a bite to eat and bake bread, and finish any work left from the day before. With a flick of my hand the pages turn, and I read a bit in the warmth of the sun. Though I’ve already read my small collection of books many times over, a new book every so often comes my way and I enjoy the studies as much as the adventures. New spells come to me, and I refine them as much as I can before I write them down for anyone else to see. My grimoire is full of scribbles, but the papers I submit are proper and complete. Although I substitute some concoctions so no one may reverse the much-needed remedies.

My magic is powerful and yet, so often, I feel at peace in the quiet and lonesome. I look forward to long days of a gentle breeze and a divine sunset.

It’s not quite summer yet, but it has been a warm spring, and I look forward to what is coming…no matter how unfortunate others claim my life to be. They know not of what a sanctuary it has become, they know only of why the powerful witch lives by herself and why no others join me.

There is almost no chill in the wind anymore as I go about my late spring routine, yearning for more warmth and the life it brings. Soon it will be high summer, with the crickets singing in the grasses of the field and late sunsets and those early, early mornings.

In the wintertime, I go to see if I’ve received any letters when the suns are highest. I don’t care for the cold much but thankfully the winter is the shortest of seasons where I reside. Now, in the spring, I wait until the warmest part of the day is fading into late afternoon before I cross the field to the box where letters manifest themselves. A courier from the closest village leaves mail for me in a faraway land. A spell I cast years ago allows the letters to find themselves here. They call me a recluse, but I consider myself careful. After what happened, I take no risks, and my life is all I’ve ever wanted…mostly.

The ground beneath my feet is warm as I cross the field barefoot. The tall grass tickles my ankles and my thin linen dress drags behind me. Surely it will be dirty at its hem from the travels, but I love the way it feels, the way the wind blows back the sheer material. It reminds me of other times when I danced with my sisters under the full moon. Sisters who are no more.

When I’m tending to the gardens, I wear a straw hat to hide from the rays, but I take it off and let it swing from my fingers on my walk. A simple flick and the hat twirls beside me following the path I gave it.

The box is at the edge where the field meets the trees. A crossroads was needed, and nature provided it for me only a mile or so from my cottage. It’s near the path that leads to the clearing but not across it. My house is visible from this part of the path, but only at a distance, and if you’re not looking, you probably won’t notice. No one ventures here though. Not for years. Not since my request to Chamberlain Colson. I’m grateful it was granted, but had it not been, I would have cast a shadow and hid there.

I turn my back on that small glimpse of my home, its thatched roof, wisteria growing up the side of the chimney, and light blue shutters accenting a dark blue door, and then approach the letter box. Even from a distance, the Canterbury bells and roses are visible, and if I focus and allow the noise to quiet beside me, I can vaguely scent the florals. Sweet and light and providing a decadence most do not know they should wish for.

The box itself is sturdy, made of thick planks and four logs with a door in the upper half wide enough to fit the rare parcel that might come and not much else. It took me weeks to build it, the magic was particular for such a long-distance physical manifestation. Still I cast protective spells whenever I think of it.

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