Summary: After fourteen years, Bella is sure that her life is always going to stay the same and she isn’t eager for a change. However, after a celebration in Court, something changes and this is a change that Bella isn’t expecting. It’s something that throws her into a whole new world of danger, new friends, new and old foes, and the possibility of a new adventure. Will Bella be willing to give this change a chance? Or will she fall victim to her own fears and lose the chance to mend her broken heart?
Prologue
-“What are your thoughts on our special guest?” - Josh asks.
-“His reputation preceded him and he definitely lives up to it.” - Bella scoffs.
-“About that, I have some news.”
-“What news?” - Bella looks at him, suspiciously.
-“You have a suitor.”
-“What? Who?”
-“King Henry Cavill.”
***
After fourteen years, Bella is sure that her life is always going to stay the same. With being a present mother to her daughter, Alexis, and an advisor, and confident, to Mackenzie making up for most of her days, she is happy with her life and isn’t eager for a change.
However, after the yearly celebration of the claiming of the Tidaholm Kingdom, something changes and this is a change that Bella isn’t expecting. It’s a change that throws her into a whole new world of danger, new friends, new and old foes, and the possibility of a new adventure.
Will Bella be willing to give this change a chance? Or will she fall victim to her own fears and lose the chance to mend her broken heart?
Summary: Delaney Williams thought she had successfully buried her past under the limestone and cedar of the Texas Hill Country. After three years of silence, she finally has the life she wanted: a quiet home on a ridge and a growing, unspoken bond with the rugged contractor who built it, Jensen Ackles, and his brilliant, tactically-minded daughter, Chloe.
But in the world of the New York Commission, "retirement" is a myth.
When her father is murdered and her brother is pushed to the brink of a mob war, Delaney’s two worlds collide. To save the family she chose in Texas, she must return to the family she fled in New York. But she isn't going back alone. She’s bringing a retired Army Ranger who knows how to tear down what he builds, and a young girl who sees through every lie the Commission tells.
In a city built on "The Code," the Williams family is about to learn that some foundations are unbreakable. Especially the ones built on love, sarcasm, and a very sharp tactical pen.
Chapter 1: The Sound of Silence
Austin was supposed to be a sanctuary, but for Delaney Vance, it often feels like a sensory deprivation tank.
In New York, the world was a constant roar. It was the screech of the subway, the staccato rhythm of heels on marble, and the low, dangerous hum of men whispering in the back of dark restaurants. Her life had been a series of pressurized rooms, penthouses with bulletproof glass and armored SUVs that smelled of expensive leather and gun oil. In the Williams family, peace was a temporary lull between storms, and silence was usually the sound of someone holding their breath before a hit.
Austin, Texas is wide open and stubbornly loud in a different way.
Delaney stands on the balcony of her minimalist apartment, the glass of chilled Sancerre in her hand feeling strangely light. Down below, Lady Bird Lake shimmers under a bruised purple sunset. Instead of the smell of trash and hot asphalt, the breeze carries the scent of cedar, grilled meat from a nearby food truck, and the dusty heat of the Hill Country.
She watches the paddleboarders gliding across the water. They look so exposed, no cover, no backup, just floating in the open. It makes her skin itch.
Her phone buzzes on the glass table. In Queens, that sound would have sent her into an immediate tactical assessment. Here, it’s a notification from a yoga studio she had joined but never attended.
She picks up the phone, scrolling through her emails. Her new job at a boutique real estate firm is a masterpiece of “normal”. She spends her days negotiating leases for trendy coffee shops and high-end lofts. The developers she deals with think they are sharks, but Delaney has to bite her tongue to keep from laughing at them. They bluster and threaten legal action over square footage, while her father’s associates had settled disputes with piano wire and shallow graves.
-”You’re safe, Laney.” - She whispers, the words a mantra she’s been repeating for six months. -”You’re just another girl in Texas.”
She walks back inside, her bare feet silent on the polished concrete floors. The apartment is a sanctuary of neutral tones. No family photos. No heirlooms. She had left Silas and Anthony with nothing but the clothes on her back and a bank account they couldn’t trace. She had taken her mother’s maiden name, Vance, and buried “Delaney Williams” in the Hudson River.
But as she catches her reflection in the darkened window, she sees the ghost of the girl she used to be. The way she stands, shoulders back, chin up, eyes constantly tracking the entry points of the room.
She isn’t living. She’s “securing a perimeter”.
She misses the energy of the city, but she hates the cost of it. In Austin, she can walk to a grocery store without two men in suits trailing ten paces behind her. She can sleep without a panic button under her pillow. Yet, the freedom feels hollow. She is a high-performance engine idling in a school zone.
She needs something to build. Something to fix. Something that requires the kind of structural strength she has yet to find in her empty, glass-walled life.
She turns to her laptop and opens a listing for a “fixer-upper” in the hills outside the city. It’s a wreck, limestone walls and a skeletal roof, sitting on five acres of rugged, defensible terrain. It’s far from the joggers, far from the paddleboarders, and far from the glass towers.
Delaney takes a sip of her wine, her eyes narrowing as she studies the lot lines. She doesn’t just want a house. She wants a fortress that looks like a home.
-”Time to build something that won’t break.” - She murmurs.
She doesn’t know then that the man she’ll hire to build the walls will be the one to finally see through hers.
Summary: Presley Williams was never supposed to be more than a line item on a ledger, a "nobody" used to settle a father's debt to the city’s most ruthless kingpin. Jensen Ackles expected a placeholder, he got a headache.
In a world where love is a weakness and power is the only currency, Jensen must decide if he’s protecting a trophy, or finally standing beside a Queen.
Chapter 1: The Bill Comes Due
The air in the study is thick with the scent of old leather and expensive tobacco, the kind of smell that usually makes people lower their voices in reverence.
Presley’s father, Arthur, is currently doing exactly that. He sits on the edge of a velvet chair, his hands trembling as he stares at the heavy mahogany desk. Across from him, Jensen sits in a high-backed leather chair, the dim light catching the sharp line of his jaw and the cold, disinterested look in his green eyes. He doesn’t look like a man who has just bought a human being, he looks like a man checking a grocery list.
-”The numbers are settled, Arthur.” - Jensen says, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that seems to vibrate in the quiet room. -”The debt is cleared the moment she signs. But I don’t buy broken goods. I expect her to understand the weight of the name she’s taking.”
-”She understands.” - Arthur stammers, glancing toward the door where Presley stands, arms crossed, leaning against the frame with an expression of pure, unadulterated boredom. -”Presley, please. Sit down.”
-”I’m fine right here.” - Presley says, her voice cutting through the heavy tension like a serrated blade. -”Besides, I’d hate to get ‘broken goods’ all over the expensive upholstery. It looks like it costs more than my father’s dignity.”
Jensen finally shifts. He doesn’t snap or shout, he simply goes still. Slowly, he sets down the gold fountain pen he’s been holding and leans back, his gaze traveling from the papers up to Presley. He doesn't look angry, he looks like he is dissecting a particularly interesting specimen.
-”Arthur.” - Jensen says, never taking his eyes off Presley. -”Leave us.”
-”But…”
-”Now.”
The door clicks shut behind her retreating father, leaving Presley alone with the man who now effectively owns her life. Jensen doesn't speak for a long moment. He lets the silence stretch, a classic intimidation tactic designed to make the other person babble just to fill the void.
Presley doesn't blink.
-”Is this the part where you tell me you’re a very dangerous man? Because the suit and the henchmen in the hall already gave that away. It’s a bit cliché, don't you think?”
Jensen rises from his chair. He is taller than he looks sitting down, broad-shouldered and imposing. He walks around the desk with a slow, predatory grace until he is standing directly in front of her, invading her personal space. He leans in, his face inches from hers, his expression a mask of cold iron.
-”You think this is a game, Presley?” - He murmurs, his voice dropping to a dangerous, silky register. -”You think being ‘feisty’ protects you in a world where people disappear for saying the wrong word to the wrong person? My world doesn't have a ‘return policy’. You belong to the Family now. That means you do what I say, when I say it, and you keep that sharp tongue behind your teeth unless I invite you to use it.”
He waits for the flinch. He waits for her eyes to dart away or for her breath to hitch.
Instead, Presley tilts her head, her gaze dropping to his mouth for a fraction of a second before meeting his eyes again with a smirk that is nothing short of a challenge.
-”Wow.” - She whispers, her tone dripping with mock-awe. -”That was almost intimidating. Did you practice that in the mirror this morning? Or do you have a scriptwriter for the ‘Brooding Mob Boss’ persona?”
She reaches out, her fingers hovering just an inch from the lapel of his charcoal suit.
-”And as for belonging to you? You bought the debt, Jensen. You didn't buy my opinion. If you wanted someone to follow orders, you should’ve bought a Golden Retriever. They’re much better at sitting on command.”
For a heartbeat, the air in the room feels electric. Jensen’s eyes darken, his jaw tightening as he stares down at the woman who is currently mocking the most feared man in the city.
Then, the corner of his mouth twitches. It isn't a smile, not quite, but the coldness in his eyes flickers with something that looks suspiciously like amusement.
-”A Golden Retriever wouldn't look nearly as good in the jewelry I’m going to make you wear.” - He says, his voice still low but losing its icy edge. He steps back, gesturing toward the desk. -”Sign the papers, Presley. Let’s see if that wit of yours survives a week in my house.”
-”Oh, it'll survive.” - She says, pushing off the doorframe and walking toward the desk with a confident stride. -”The real question is, will you?”
So, this is book 3 of a series that has been siting in my drafts for the last 2 years. I finally finished all 3 books and am ready to send it to the ether so it can stop annoying me.
Anyways, check it out and let me know what you think. Hope you like it :)
Fair Warning: Heavy Angst; Hurt/Comfort; Rescue Mission; Mutiny; Confrontation; Emotional Payoff; Breaking the Rules; OOC Jack O'Neill;
Summary: Book 3 of the "Breaking Free" series.
The secret is out. Jack O'Neill knows, and in the military world, the General always wins.
When Jack threatens to dismantle Major Lorne’s career and court-martial him for fraternization, Ember makes the only choice she can: she trades her freedom for his future. Returning to the SGC as a "ghost," Ember enters a silent war of wills with a man who thinks he’s saved her.
But the Atlantis Expedition doesn't leave their own behind. While Ember wastes away in a mountain lab, Evan Lorne, John Sheppard, and Rodney McKay are orchestrating a mutiny that will span two galaxies. With the Daedalus as their chariot and the rules as their footstool, they’re coming to take her home. But to break free, they’ll have to face the General one last time, and some bridges are meant to be burned.
Chapter 1: The Cold Front
The hangar deck of Atlantis always hummed with a specific kind of kinetic energy, but today, the air feels brittle. The Daedalus sits like a sleeping giant, its massive ramp lowered to the gleaming floor, venting a faint mist of coolant that curls around the boots of the reception line.
Ember stands at a perfect, practiced parade rest. Her hands are clasped so tightly behind her back that her knuckles have turned a ghostly white. In her mind, she has already fought this battle a dozen times. She has rehearsed the “professional greeting”, the slight, respectful nod, the steady eye contact, the calm tone of a woman who is essential to the mission, regardless of the baggage she carries.
She expects the heat. She expects a glare that will pin her to the bulkhead, or perhaps a sharp, “Dr. Williams, a word”. She is braced for the impact of Earth’s military might coming down on her head.
Then, he appears.
General Jack O’Neill descends the ramp with the casual grace of a man who owns every room he steps into, even if that room is in another galaxy. In his Dress Blues, with the silver hair and the rows of ribbons marking a lifetime of impossible victories, he looks every bit the icon.
Elizabeth steps forward, her expression a mix of professional warmth and wary curiosity.
-”General O'Neill. This is an unexpected honor.”
Jack’s face breaks into that famous, crooked grin, the “Classic Jack” charm that has disarmed gods and bureaucrats alike.
-”Elizabeth. Sorry for the drop-in. Landry has a thing, Hammond has a thing... I drew the short straw. Or the long one, depending on how you feel about Lantean sunsets. They’re still purple, right?”
He shakes her hand warmly, his eyes twinkling with a mirth that feels almost genuine. He moves down the line to Sheppard, tossing out a dry remark about his hair being a “breach of several physical laws”, before offering a respectful, silent nod to the Jaffa delegates. He is working the room with the precision of a master politician.
Ember feels her heart thundering against her ribs, a frantic rhythm that makes it hard to breathe. “Here it comes.”, she thinks, “Steady. Don’t blink.”.
Jack turns toward her. Ember’s chin lifts a fraction of an inch. She prepared to meet his eyes, to show him she isn't afraid of the shadow he casts. But Jack’s gaze doesn’t catch. It doesn’t even snag on her.
His eyes slide over her with the same level of interest he might give a smudge on the wall or a piece of standard-issue machinery. There is no flicker of recognition, no spark of anger, no empty look of disdain. It is a complete, clinical erasure. To Jack O'Neill, in that moment, Ember simply did not exist.
He doesn't pause. He doesn't even break his stride. He moves straight to Evan, who is standing barely a foot past her.
-”Major.” - Jack says, his voice jovial but his eyes suddenly turn to flint. -”Glad to see you’re still in one piece. I heard the Obsidian Mountains were a bit of a scramble. Carry on.”
-”Thank you, sir.” - Evan replies, though his eyes dart momentarily to Ember, sensing the sudden drop in temperature.
Jack doesn't notice, or doesn't care. He turns back to Elizabeth, gesturing toward the Gateroom stairs.
-”So, about this Genii delegation. I hear they’re still grumpy. Is it the food? I brought some decent mustard if that’ll help.”
The group begins to move, a sea of uniforms and voices following the General toward the Control Room. The sound of their boots echoes off the deck plating, leaving a ringing silence in their wake.
Ember remains standing, her hands still locked behind her back. The “professional greeting” she had practiced stayed trapped in her throat, a useless, bitter weight. She had been prepared for a fight, but Jack O’Neill had chosen a far more lethal weapon:
So, this is book 2 of a series that has been siting in my drafts for the last 2 years. I finally finished all 3 books and am ready to send it to the ether so it can stop anoying me.
Anyways, check it out and let me know what you think. Hope you like it :)
Fair Warning: Romance; Action/Adventure; Secret Relationship; Fluff; Angst; Developing Relationship; Protective Evan Lorne; Jealous Jack O'Neill; OOC Jack O'Neill;
Summary: Book 2 in the "Breaking Free" series.
Thirty thousand light-years away from Earth, the air is saltier, the sun is brighter, and the rules are different. As Ember settles into the rhythm of Atlantis, she finds herself drawn to Major Evan Lorne, a man who doesn't see her as a fragile asset to be guarded, but as a partner to be trusted.
From shared coffee over Lantean sunsets to life-or-death missions in the Pegasus wilderness, their "rapport" is the talk of the city. But while Ember is learning to fly, the General’s shadow still looms. Jack O’Neill doesn't like losing his favorite people, and he’s coming to Atlantis to see exactly what, or who, is distracting his Doctor. In the city of the Ancients, Ember and Evan must decide if their new love is worth the war it’s about to start with the SGC’s finest.
Prologue
The cold of the wormhole gives way to the warmth of Atlantis. As the shimmering event horizon dissolves behind her, the sterile, biting chill of the Gateroom is replaced by something Ember hasn't felt in months: the scent of salt air and the faint, rhythmic hum of a city that breathes.
Her knees buckle, not from weakness, but from the sudden, jarring absence of the fear that has been her only constant. A pair of steady hands catch her elbows. She looks up into the calm, blue eyes of Major Evan Lorne.
-”I heard there was a bit of a fight to get you here. Are you okay, Doc?” - He says softly, his voice a balm after the shouting.
Ember leans into his touch for just a second, a long-delayed breath escaping her.
So, this is book 1 of a series that has been siting in my drafts for the last 2 years. I finally finished all 3 books and am ready to send it to the ether so it can stop anoying me.
Anyways, check it out and let me know what you think. Hope you like it :)
Fair Warning: Slow Burn; Pining; Emotional Manipulation (subtle); Military Protocol; Lingering Glances; OOC Jack O'Neil;
Summary: Book 1 in the "Breaking Free" series. To the rest of the SGC, Dr. Ember Williams is a brilliant linguist and a protected asset. To Colonel Jack O'Neill, she is a survivor he personally pulled from the wreckage, a woman he’s determined to keep safe, even if that safety feels increasingly like a cage.
Living miles underground, Ember has learned to thrive in the shadows of Cheyenne Mountain, her world defined by ancient dialects and Jack’s protective presence. But when a new gate address opens to the Pegasus Galaxy, the chance to join the Atlantis Expedition represents more than just a career move, it’s a chance to breathe. Jack thinks he’s letting her go on a long leash, but Ember is about to discover that the further you get from the mountain, the harder it is to ignore the weight of the chains you've been wearing.
Prologue
It’s late in the evening. Rain streaks the windows, blurring the campus lights into glowing orbs. The knock on the door is hesitant, but the man who enters is anything but.
-”Dr. Williams? Sorry to drop in so late. I'm Daniel Jackson.”
Ember looks up from her translation, her eyes stinging from the low light.
-”The archaeologist? I read your paper on the Great Pyramid. It was… controversial.”
Daniel lets out a dry, tired laugh, leaning against the doorframe.
-”That’s a polite way of putting it. Usually, people just call it ‘insane’. But I didn't come here to talk about Egypt. I came here because I read your work on the Lin-Gua root systems. You’re the only person I’ve found who realizes that certain ancient dialects weren't evolved, they were assigned.”
He doesn't wait for her to respond. He walks over to her desk and lays down a file. It is stamped with a level of security Ember didn't even know existed. Inside is a grainy photo of a stone slab found in a dig site that shouldn't have been there.
-”I need a partner, Ember.” - Daniel says, his voice dropping. -”Someone who hasn't been jaded by the University system. Someone who can see the patterns I’m seeing.”
-”And who do you work for exactly, Dr. Jackson?”
-”The United States Air Force. But we're led by a man named General George Hammond. He’s... he’s a good man. He believes in the science as much as the security.” - Daniel pauses, his gaze shifting to the window. -”And then there’s Colonel O'Neill. He’s the one you’ll really have to convince.”
-”A Colonel? Why do I have to convince him?”
-”Because he’s the one who has to keep us alive while we read the walls.” - Daniel says simply. -”He's the best there is, but he’s had a rough year. He doesn't like ‘outsiders’ in his mountain. But if you can show him what you can do... he'll be the best friend you ever have.”
Ember looks down at the strange symbols in the photo. They look like stars trapped in stone.
-”You want me to leave tonight?”
-”Six a.m..” - Daniel corrects. -”The General is waiting. And trust me, Ember… Once you see what’s behind the curtain, you’ll never want to go back to grading papers.”
Summary: Dr. Jocelyn Williams didn't come to the Pegasus Galaxy to find a nightmare; she came with the man she thought she loved. But as the walls of Atlantis closed in, the relationship she trusted turned into a prison she couldn't escape.
Major Evan Lorne didn't intend to break protocol; he just intended to help her find her way back to the woman she used to be.
From the high-tech corridors of the Ancient city to the quiet porches of Ohio, "In Her Eyes" is a story of healing, resilience, and the realization that sometimes the person who rescues you isn't the one who saves you.
Prologue
She stands in front of the bathroom mirror, applying her makeup heavily, a daily routine that she prayed every night would eventually end. She had nothing against putting on makeup, mind you, it was the reason behind it that had her praying it would eventually no longer be necessary. But God and her haven’t been on good terms for a long time, so she isn’t counting on His help.
She doesn’t know how things got this bad. They just did. It wasn’t sudden, she knew that much. It was a build up of little things that, at the time, she didn’t even notice, but once it started, there was no stopping it. She wished she could go back in time and change it, stop it, before it even began. But she can’t. All she can do now is take it and hope that, eventually, he gets tired of her and leaves her alone.
Checking herself in the mirror one last time before leaving, she hardly recognizes the woman looking back at her. Her eyes, that used to have so much light just a year ago, now look void of any emotion. The woman that used to be so full of life is now nothing but a shell of who she once was. And when she smiles, it doesn’t reach her eyes. She somehow has perfected her fake smile over time, and it is so perfect that no one suspects that what was supposed to be a once in a lifetime opportunity, has become her own personal hell.
