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Fantasy Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
Taming The Wolf

Taming The Wolf

Querencia Lynn was always the disappointment-the black sheep of her family. Scorned, unloved, and cast aside, her tragic life ends in an accident... only for her to wake up inside the very pages of a novel she was reading moments before death. Now reborn as a side character destined to become a villainess and political pawn, Querencia knows exactly how her story ends-betrayed by her fiancé, the crown prince, and discarded once she's served her purpose. But this time, she's not playing by the book. Armed with foresight, cunning, and a fortune of her own making, she's determined to break free from her chains-starting with her doomed engagement. But escaping the prince's grip means finding someone powerful enough to shield her from royal retaliation. Enter the Archduke of Wolreign: the prince's cold, formidable cousin and the only man strong enough to oppose him. Dangerous, untouchable, and infamously indifferent, the Archduke is no easy mark. Undeterred, Querencia approaches him with boldness and charm-but her first attempt ends in public humiliation. The nobles mock her. The Archduke calls her crazy. She only laughs. After all, villainesses never beg. They take. With everything on the line, Querencia offers the one thing no one saw coming: a marriage proposal. And for the first time, the unshakable Archduke is left without words. A woman scorned. A man who cannot be tamed. And a future rewritten by the very villainess meant to be destroyed.
Arkaylia : Mage Of Destruction

Arkaylia : Mage Of Destruction

There once was an empire, a home of one of the creatures that started mystery and Legend, witches. There once WAS, until men turned legend to reality. Until their existence was no longer concealed by twilight but rather exposed by the coaxed effulgence of men. Destructions of man made history the year witches were discovered. Upon a peaceful mass of hidden creatures, their end came upon them within a twinkle of an eye. The year, sixteen ninety three, the year the Salem Witch Trial took place. Must have seemed as the end, but what end is given without a beginning? They say just 'one' made it out. A single persona of the witchcraft race. Upon her, the rage of her lost ones is bestowed. Into the void of creation, she vanished, not to hide, but to get ready for war. Under her royalty, five Elders exist, elders who are to gather all possible information as they can have, information on the weakness of men and how they can be ended. The witch exists under the shadows of her elders, her face never to be seen, until the countdown elapses, until the day of wrath befalls. Her significance has been executed as in perpetuum and crowned as victor ludorum, one which men fear. She is a legend, preparing to devour, but what if there is another. One whose past life has been entombed by the tales of history arises, p'rhaps his existence holds no past, at least at the given time. A human having the tales of Witches embedded in him, but all forgotten and washed away for they were embedded as his past. His visions are perhaps mankind's only hope. The thing is, his visions are not just visions...They are past, present and future merged together. Will he be man's given savior? What tales does his vision hold to rapture? What exactly is the beginning to the tale of nightmare which rained upon the land of Witches?
The Unwanted Wife's SSS-Class Husbands

The Unwanted Wife's SSS-Class Husbands

At a high-society gala, my wealthy fiancé shoved me hard onto the polished marble floor. "Get away from me, you worthless stalker," he hissed in front of hundreds of mocking elites. He publicly broke our engagement, calling me a genetic dead-end, a worthless "Psi-Null." My own cousin and my other co-fiancés immediately joined the betrayal, legally freezing my trust fund, repossessing my home, and leaving me completely penniless in the rain. As if that wasn't enough, the Federal matching system suddenly flashed red, assigning me five new mandatory partners. They weren't just anyone. They were five decommissioned SSS-class military legends. But they were all on the verge of terminal energy collapse, rapidly devolving into mindless, bloodthirsty beasts. I was instantly exiled to the Umbra Sanitarium, a high-security prison on a toxic wasteland planet. My cousin laughed hysterically, tossing a ten-credit coin into a puddle at my feet. "Not only are you shackled to five dying madmen, but you're being exiled to the galaxy's garbage dump!" Everyone expected me to cry, to beg, or to be torn apart as their final meal. They didn't know the pathetic, love-sick Hadley had died when her head hit that marble floor. My soul, forged in the fires of a dead, post-apocalyptic world, had taken over this body. I calmly picked up the coin, boarded the rusted cargo ship, and took the job as the prison's new Head Chef. Looking at the chaotic, deadly energy radiating from the five terrifying monsters in their cells, I smiled. They thought this was my tomb, but it was actually the perfect feeding ground to level up my dormant powers.
Too Late, Mr. Thorne: Her Heaven, Your Hell

Too Late, Mr. Thorne: Her Heaven, Your Hell

My life with Marcus Thorne was a fairytale, shielded by his ruthless power and what I thought was unwavering love. He was whispered about in D.C. elite circles-powerful, ruthless, yet always gentle with me, his Eleanor. Our legendary love story began years ago when he saved me, promising protection and building our world around him. Then, at a glittering D.C. gala, chaos erupted: gunfire, and his young operative, Izzy, took a bullet meant for him. But suddenly, the devoted man I knew vanished, replaced by a cold stranger fixated on Izzy, claiming a convenient amnesia. He then insisted I donate bone marrow for her "experimental treatment," disregarding doctors' warnings about my delicate pregnancy. I endured Izzy's endless demands and his chilling indifference as our long-awaited child, conceived after years of yearning, slipped away due to the procedure. My heart shattered, watching him dote on Izzy, who relished in my public humiliation. Then, I overheard his chilling confession: his "amnesia" was a calculated lie, and our baby' s death merely a "tragic necessity" to repay his supposed debt to her. The man I married, who vowed to protect me, had deliberately sacrificed our child, our future, for a cold, calculated lie. My world collapsed, my deep love turning to ashes, leaving only a hollow, burning rage. How could the man I adored be such a monster, so casually dismissing our child' s very life? I was merely a pawn in his twisted game, living a carefully constructed deception. But I refused to be his victim anymore. With every shred of my being, I resolved to disappear, to utterly erase Eleanor Thorne and reclaim my autonomy. This time, I would emerge a phoenix, not a pawn.