Ronald Spence
10 Published Stories
Ronald Spence's Books and Stories
Shadows Of The Northern Hunt
Werewolf Selena Kaelvar is the last surviving member of the Kaelvar Pride. After witnessing the cold-blooded slaughter of her family by the ruthless Crescent Moon Pack, she becomes consumed by a singular purpose: revenge. Her opportunity comes when she discovers her uncanny resemblance to Liana Morven, the Crescent Moon Alpha's beloved Luna. Selena kidnaps Liana, hiding her far from her mate, and assumes her identity to infiltrate the pack from within.
Darius Raelith, the Alpha of the Crescent Moon Pack, is burdened with the legacy of his father's cruel reign. Determined to lead his pack with honor, Darius strives to mend the wounds of the past. But his efforts are undermined by a "Luna" who seems to be playing her own dangerous game.
Selena walks a treacherous path of deception and vengeance, long-buried secrets surface, and the stakes grow higher. What will happen when Selena and Darius confront the truths that tie their fates together? Can redemption be found amid betrayal, or will revenge plunge them both into darkness? Shadows of the Wolf's Awakening
Werewolf When Seraphina, a young woman with dormant werewolf traits, is mistreated by her pack and ultimately rejected by her Alpha mate, she is forced into a life of solitude as a rogue.
Her world is turned upside down when her dormant powers are awakened, revealing her true nature as a powerful Alpha and the dangers that come with it.
Seeking to understand her new identity, Seraphina turns to the Lycan King, Kael, who becomes her mentor and guide. Together, they face the threats from her past that rise along with her newfound abilities.
But when her former Alpha, Thorne, who once rejected her, returns, pleading for her forgiveness and help, Seraphina is faced with an agonizing choice: should she listen to his plea to take her back, or trust Kael, the one who helped her unlock the great power within her?
With her destiny as Alpha hanging in the balance, Seraphina must decide how to wield her powers and confront the looming dangers that threaten her. Will she embrace the future that's calling, or be undone by the past that haunts her? The Alpha's Cursed Luna
Werewolf Hunted by fate and bound by a curse, Selene Draven lives in hiding, avoiding the truth of her identity as the last heir to the Duskwind Pack. When her quiet life is disrupted by Alaric Veylor, the fierce alpha of the Ebonridge Pack, her world is upended.
Alaric, seeking vengeance for his brother's mysterious death, captures Selene, believing she holds the answers to the curse plaguing his pack. But as their fates entwine, an undeniable bond forms, challenging everything they know about loyalty, love, and destiny.
As ancient forces awaken and secrets unravel, Alaric and Selene must face a choice: break the curse and risk losing each other, or let love conquer the darkness threatening to consume their packs. The Alpha's Forbidden Claim
Werewolf In a world ruled by wolves, Asha never expected to be anything more than an ordinary woman. But when her family's dark past catches up with her, she is thrust into a conflict that could tear her apart. Declan, a brooding Alpha with a ruthless reputation, claims Asha as his mate, bound by a forbidden claim that no one saw coming. As the war between packs escalates and old enemies emerge, Asha must navigate her new life in the wilds of the wolf world, where loyalty, love, and blood ties are tested like never before. But with a dangerous prophecy looming, Asha might be the only one who can prevent the destruction of everything she holds dear. You might like
Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles
Dorine Koestler I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved.
He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again.
"Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.
That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports.
For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian.
In return, he treated me like furniture.
He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste.
I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home.
So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco.
I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage.
But I underestimated Dante.
When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat.
He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away. Marrying His Rival: The Ex-Fiancé's Nightmare
Moria Anninger I was the "Caged Canary" of the underworld, a biological asset designed to merge two crime families. My fiancé, Bryant Barnes, didn't love me. He loved the power I brought, and he loved his mistress, Kalia.
The night Kalia broke into my penthouse and stomped on my hand, crushing the bones and my fashion career, Bryant didn't help me. He told the police she was my guest and warned me not to embarrass him with a cast.
That was just the beginning. When Kalia lied about feeling unsafe, Bryant dangled me off a balcony. When she faked a kidnapping, he locked me in an industrial freezer for six hours until I turned blue. And when I fell into the marina, he swam right past me to save her, leaving me to drown in the freezing water.
He destroyed my body and my dignity for a woman who was stealing my designs and faking a pregnancy. He thought I was just a broken obligation he could discard.
But he made a fatal mistake. He didn't make sure I was dead.
I dragged myself out of the water and made a call to his greatest rival.
On the night of our grand merger, I walked onto the stage wearing royal blue instead of white. I rolled up my sleeve to reveal the scars he gave me, looked him dead in the eye, and grabbed the microphone.
"I hereby terminate my engagement to Bryant Barnes. And I am proud to announce my betrothal to the true King of this city." The Unwanted Bride Becomes The City's Queen
Breeze I was the spare daughter of the Vitiello crime family, born solely to provide organs for my golden sister, Isabella.
Four years ago, under the codename "Seven," I nursed Dante Moretti, the Don of Chicago, back to health in a safe house. I was the one who held him in the dark.
But Isabella stole my name, my credit, and the man I loved.
Now, Dante looked at me with nothing but cold disgust, believing her lies.
When a neon sign crashed down on the street, Dante used his body to shield Isabella, leaving me to be crushed under twisted steel.
While Isabella sat in a VIP suite crying over a scratch, I lay broken, listening to my parents discuss if my kidneys were still viable for harvest.
The final straw came at their engagement gala. When Dante saw me wearing the lava stone bracelet I had worn in the safe house, he accused me of stealing it from Isabella.
He ordered my father to punish me.
I took fifty lashes to my back while Dante covered Isabella's eyes, protecting her from the ugly truth.
That night, the love in my heart finally died.
On the morning of their wedding, I handed Dante a gift box containing a cassette tape—the only proof that I was Seven.
Then, I signed the papers disowning my family, threw my phone out the car window, and boarded a one-way flight to Sydney.
By the time Dante listens to that tape and realizes he married a monster, I will be thousands of miles away, never to return. Marrying The Rival: My Ex-Husband's Despair
Fonz Nadherny I stood outside my husband's study, the perfect mafia wife, only to hear him mocking me as an "ice sculpture" while he entertained his mistress, Aria.
But the betrayal went deeper than infidelity.
A week later, my saddle snapped mid-jump, leaving me with a shattered leg. Lying in the hospital bed, I overheard the conversation that killed the last of my love.
My husband, Alessandro, knew Aria had sabotaged my gear. He knew she could have killed me.
Yet, he told his men to let it go. He called my near-death experience a "lesson" because I had bruised his mistress's ego.
He humiliated me publicly, freezing my accounts to buy family heirlooms for her. He stood by while she threatened to leak our private tapes to the press.
He destroyed my dignity to play the hero for a woman he thought was a helpless orphan.
He had no idea she was a fraud.
He didn't know I had installed micro-cameras throughout the estate while he was busy pampering her.
He didn't know I had hours of footage showing his "innocent" Aria sleeping with his guards, his rivals, and even his staff, laughing about how easy he was to manipulate.
At the annual charity gala, in front of the entire crime family, Alessandro demanded I apologize to her.
I didn't beg. I didn't cry.
I simply connected my drive to the main projector and pressed play. Too Late: The Spare Daughter Escapes Him
SHANA GRAY I died on a Tuesday.
It wasn't a quick death. It was slow, cold, and meticulously planned by the man who called himself my father.
I was twenty years old.
He needed my kidney to save my sister. The spare part for the golden child. I remember the blinding lights of the operating theater, the sterile smell of betrayal, and the phantom pain of a surgeon's scalpel carving into my flesh while my screams echoed unheard. I remember looking through the observation glass and seeing him-my father, Giovanni Vitiello, the Don of the Chicago Outfit-watching me die with the same detached expression he used when signing a death warrant.
He chose her. He always chose her.
And then, I woke up.
Not in heaven. Not in hell. But in my own bed, a year before my scheduled execution. My body was whole, unscarred. The timeline had reset, a glitch in the cruel matrix of my existence, giving me a second chance I never asked for.
This time, when my father handed me a one-way ticket to London-an exile disguised as a severance package-I didn't cry. I didn't beg. My heart, once a bleeding wound, was now a block of ice.
He didn't know he was talking to a ghost.
He didn't know I had already lived through his ultimate betrayal.
He also didn't know that six months ago, during the city's brutal territory wars, I was the one who saved his most valuable asset. In a secret safe house, I stitched up the wounds of a blinded soldier, a man whose life hung by a thread. He never saw my face. He only knew my voice, the scent of vanilla, and the steady touch of my hands. He called me Sette. Seven. For the seven stitches I put in his shoulder.
That man was Dante Moretti. The Ruthless Capo. The man my sister, Isabella, is now set to marry.
She stole my story. She claimed my actions, my voice, my scent. And Dante, the man who could spot a lie from a mile away, believed the beautiful deception because he wanted it to be true. He wanted the golden girl to be his savior, not the invisible sister who was only ever good for her spare parts.
So I took the ticket. In my past life, I fought them, and they silenced me on an operating table. This time, I will let them have their perfect, gilded lie.
I will go to London. I will disappear. I will let Seraphina Vitiello die on that plane.
But I will not be a victim.
This time, I will not be the lamb led to slaughter.
This time, from the shadows of my exile, I will be the one holding the match. And I will wait, with the patience of the dead, to watch their entire world burn. Because a ghost has nothing to lose, and a queen of ashes has an empire to gain. His Unwanted Wife: The Genius Artist Returns
Zaccaria Linn On our fifth anniversary, my husband slid a black velvet box across the table.
Inside wasn't a diamond ring, but a fountain pen.
"Sign the separation papers, Aurora," Ethan said. "Ilene is spiraling again. She needs to see we are over."
I was the wife of the Mafia Underboss, yet I was being discarded for the Family Ward.
Before I could answer, Ilene stormed into the restaurant.
She shrieked that I was still wearing his ring and threw a bowl of boiling lobster bisque directly at my chest.
As my skin blistered and peeled, Ethan didn't rush to me.
He hugged her.
"It's okay," he soothed the woman who had just assaulted me. "I've got you."
The betrayal didn't stop there.
When Ilene pushed me down the stairs days later, Ethan erased the security footage to protect her from the police.
When I was kidnapped by his enemies, I called his emergency line—the one meant for life-or-death situations.
He declined the call.
He was too busy holding Ilene's hand to save his wife.
That was the moment the chain broke.
As the kidnapper's van sped onto the highway, I didn't wait for a rescue that would never come.
I opened the door and jumped into the dark.
Everyone thought Aurora Bruce died on that pavement.
Two years later, Ethan stood outside a gallery in Paris, looking at the woman he had destroyed, finally realizing he had protected the wrong one. I Married My Ex-Fiancé's Ruthless Older Brother
EVA PINK I was a Vitiello, sold to the Morettis to secure an alliance. For five years, I quietly loved Dante, counting down the minutes until our wedding at St. Patrick's Cathedral.
But it ended with a single text three minutes before the ceremony.
"Stay at the apartment. Sofia is awake. Don't make a scene."
His ex-girlfriend, the love of his life, had woken from a coma with no memory. Just like that, I was erased.
For thirty days, I waited in the shadows while Dante played hero to a woman who didn't remember him. He told me he was protecting her fragile mind.
But then I found the truth.
I stood outside the doctor's office and heard Dante refuse a treatment that would restore Sofia's memory.
"If she remembers, she might leave again," Dante told the doctor. "Elena will wait. She's a good soldier. Let me have my fantasy."
He wasn't protecting her. He was keeping her broken to feed his ego, banking on my submission. He thought I was furniture he could put in storage.
He was wrong.
I didn't go back to the apartment. Instead, I dialed a number every made man in New York feared.
"Matteo," I said to Dante's lethal older brother, the King of the underworld.
"I am done waiting. I want to be a Moretti bride. But not Dante's." Too Late For Regret: The Mafia King's Runaway
Tangye Wanzi I watched my husband, the most feared Capo in New York, sign away our marriage with the same cold indifference he usually reserved for ordering a hit.
The nib of his Montblanc pen scratched against the paper, drowning out the rain hitting the coffee shop window.
He didn't bother to read a single word.
He thought he was signing routine shipping manifests for the family business.
In reality, he was signing the "Dissolution of Union" papers I had hidden beneath the cover sheet.
He was too distracted to check. His eyes were glued to his encrypted phone, frantically texting Sofia—the widow, the tragic beauty, the woman who had haunted our marriage for three years.
"Done," he grunted, tossing the stack into his armored SUV without even glancing at me.
"Business is concluded, Elena. We leave."
Moments later, his phone rang with her special emergency tone.
His demeanor shifted from cold boss to frantic protector instantly.
"Driver, divert. She needs me," he roared.
He looked at me with zero affection and ordered, "Get out, Elena. Luca will take you home."
He kicked me out of the car into the pouring rain to rush to his mistress, completely unaware he had just legally granted me my freedom.
I stood on the curb, shivering but smiling for the first time in years.
By the time the Don realizes he just signed his own divorce, I will be a ghost in San Francisco.
And he will have nothing left but his shipping logs and his regret. 
/0/69260/coverorgin.jpg?v=a66d7177a2a3fa162a5fd71a24f4a941&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/69259/coverorgin.jpg?v=403a43f5fac2ec369256f644173d6ab7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/69256/coverorgin.jpg?v=537480d124eb38595da330fb43003e63&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/68497/coverorgin.jpg?v=d36383a3e1959f8b7f5156a3faf1963a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/68462/coverorgin.jpg?v=72bc86a02fd526477345221f28023d1d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/68461/coverorgin.jpg?v=4e5d215ea734151b19e5a13a2c53ce88&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/67933/coverorgin.jpg?v=2b793624b9bcd863836e7a481d280021&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/67925/coverorgin.jpg?v=c2e9865b40f1ddd11394a408da908dfd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/67921/coverorgin.jpg?v=708a5c0cced82bc5a043789ecffabf45&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/67916/coverorgin.jpg?v=f7760b193126c15b01909383c73fff86&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/100248/coverorgin.jpg?v=b1dec4753a5c9ea677f050c0b517bc01&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/104542/coverorgin.jpg?v=3510d406ba8cc92963fe28d55a089a68&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/100249/coverorgin.jpg?v=a570494f3c22659a84b85b8169022ad7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/104523/coverorgin.jpg?v=7719b1d28102636322258cb433c8fe50&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/100385/coverorgin.jpg?v=d2377f2e89744f564e672d62cce9c375&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/103295/coverorgin.jpg?v=5a85eea5bcf3152988e3005eb5809fb2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/104544/coverorgin.jpg?v=26ef0bf83d2e61fa75b0006ea049ca2b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/104525/coverorgin.jpg?v=03888366bd4ff7c25a50749f40cc4df8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/64363/coverorgin.jpg?v=0a1824700a96eb8b5c6b72a4c56ad4d1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/103521/coverorgin.jpg?v=37a2e125f935284408cef7ee78a9aaef&imageMogr2/format/webp)