9330 Book(s) Related to the white luna she was rejected now she is the prophecy

I died trying to save the animals I loved—then woke up as the abusive stepmother of a four-year-old beastkin boy.
According to the original story, Milo will grow up to become a ruthless villain. But right now, he is just a frightened little lynx who sleeps on a filthy blanket, eats pet food from a bowl, and thinks every kindness comes with a price.
I have no mission to complete and no plot to preserve. I only want to teach him three things: he deserves real food, he never has to earn his place at home, and his ridiculously soft ears are absolutely adorable.
There is just one complication.
His cold, powerful father is a tiger—and apparently, he wants to become my real husband.

I am the chief architect of a quantum computing system valued at hundreds of billions in the real world.
For an AI test subject that I wrote myself, I was willing to conceal my identity as the creator and become her unseen, low-level assistant, even at the cost of taking a fatal blow for her.
Just as she was about to go public and reach the top of the conglomerate pyramid, she unhesitatingly pushed an "Organ Donation Agreement" in front of me, forcing me to remove a kidney to save the newly spawned "old money" NPC new love.
She thought that as long as I died on the operating table, she could kick me aside, this useless stepping stone, without any moral burden, and embrace the perfect capitalist marriage.
But she didn't know—
The entire world she exists in is just a sandbox test server on my desk.

I was born seven minutes before my twin sister, but in the Santoro family, those seven minutes meant nothing.

For most of my life, I was raised to become the next heir of the Santoro Mafia Family. I learned the family business, managed its legitimate empire, and helped secure our alliances. Even my engagement to Matteo Bellucci, the heir of another powerful Mafia family, was part of the future my father had planned for me.

But on the night of our family's fortieth anniversary, everything changed.

At the Principessa induction ceremony, my father placed the priceless sapphire crown on my sister Natalia's head and announced her as the future of the Santoro family.

My mother handed her the family heirloom that had belonged to our grandmother. My fiancé stood beside her, holding her hand.

Then came the family portrait.

There was a place for my parents, my sister, my fiancé, and every family member who mattered.

There was no place for me.

"You're the older one, Giulia. You should be happy for your sister," my father said.

So I smiled, took off my family ring, and walked away.

They thought I would come crawling back within days.

They were wrong, I wasn't coming back.

Seven days before the doomsday outbreak, the wild weeds by the road spoke to me: The zombies are coming.
I rushed home, intending to take my fiancée and flee for our lives.
But outside the door, I overheard her plotting with her boss on the sofa, scheming to drain all my wealth.
"He’s just an orphan with no family or connections. No one would care even if he dies."
I didn’t push the door open.
Instead, I quietly cashed out all my assets overnight and built an impenetrable island fortress without delay.
Seven days later, the zombie hordes surrounded the city.
She and her entire family were chased by the monsters, covered in blood and mangled.
They knelt frantically kowtowing and begging for help right outside my explosion-proof gate.
I coldly locked the door tight.
"You were right," I said. "No one really cares if you die. Just go in peace."

"Ms. Hayes, Avery got into a fight in the art studio. She hit the son of our biggest sponsor. You need to come here right away."
I immediately dropped the landscape plans I was working on and rushed to the arts center.
When I pushed open the office door, two children were standing side by side against the wall.
A man in a perfectly tailored designer suit stood with his back to me, his posture straight and imposing.
At the sound of the door, he turned around.
My heart sank the moment I saw his face.
"It's been a long time, Emma."
I glanced down at my mud-covered boots and the work pants torn by tree branches before lifting my head to meet his gaze.
"Indeed it has, Mr. Grayson."
Five years since our divorce.
And this was the first time we had seen each other again.

My husband doesn't love me. He cares even less for the boy who carries his blood.
 
On the day I gave birth to his heir, Rhys Calloway didn't even glance at the bassinet. The ruthless Don of the Calloway Syndicate simply had a soldier place the child in my arms before walking out, eager to return to the violence of his empire.
 
But tonight, the ice finally broke. His former fiancée—the woman he had actually intended to crown—was returning from Europe.
 
Rhys came home reeking of aged bourbon, his dark eyes glassy with a terrifying euphoria. For the very first time, he actually scooped our son into his arms, a rare, chilling laugh vibrating in his chest.
 
Startled, Leo clung to the broad shoulders of the man he was forbidden to claim as a father.
 
He looked down at me, his voice a terrified whisper in the cavernous foyer.
 
"Mama, what's wrong with him? Why is Sir acting like this?"
 
I knelt, gently pulling my son from Rhys's slackening grip.
 
"The woman he truly loves is coming home, baby," I whispered, fighting the sting of tears. "Which means our time here is up. We have to pack."

My name is Megan, and I am the Queen of the Star Fae.
Sixteen years ago, I left my Mate — Orlando, Alpha of the Darkmoon Pack — and the daughter we had just brought into the world, to hold back an invasion of Abyssal demons.
Sixteen years of war in the Void — and at last, the Abyss was sealed.
I came home crowned in glory, my mastery over the Source of Starlight absolute. I expected my husband's arms and my daughter's smile waiting for me.
I never imagined that setting foot on Darkmoon land again would mean no flowers, no cheering — only the sound of my own child screaming for help from inside a filthy dungeon.

"You good-for-nothing should get out and save your food rations. I'll use your truckload of supplies for you!"

The man-eating scarlet spores swept through the town. My good brother locked the security door tightly and locked me in the corridor filled with blood mist.

He stared intently at me through the peephole, waiting to see the horrific sight of my internal organs being drained by the fungus.

But a second before I was devoured by the spores, I hid in my personal space and with a single thought drained the last drop of water and every grain of rice from the room.

Three days later, in this impregnable "vacuum tomb".

When he was so thirsty that he swallowed blood, and knelt on the ground desperately pounding on the door.

I kicked the door open, tied him up with nylon rope, and hung him upside down in the blood-red storm outside the window.

I was the undefeated queen of the underground octagon—a body held together by broken bones and spilled blood, all to build Dorian's fighting empire from the ground up.
But when he'd made it to the top in his tailored suits and polished shoes, suddenly my scars made me too crude, too ugly to stand beside him.
He ordered me to throw my title defense—told me to take a dive for some rich girl whose daddy bought her a spot in the cage. And when that woman shattered both my legs with an illegal knee strike, he just stood there and watched.
I clawed my way out of that wreckage—barely breathing. Left him a blood-stained divorce decree and vanished.
While he mourned over what he thought were my ashes, I was already training alongside the legendary king of the octagon, rebuilding myself from the ground up.
Now I'm back—stronger than ever.
This time, I'm going to break that princess's pretty face and crush his pathetic ego underfoot.

After being reborn, the first thing my sister and I did was swap our grooms.
In our past life, my gentle sister Elara married Felix Hawthorne, the mafia godfather of Marconi City. Surrounded by a domineering sister-in-law and a scheming, manipulative other woman, she was slowly driven into a corner and died of a broken heart.
Meanwhile, I married the polite, illegitimate son of the Graves family. He was a perfect gentleman, but he just didn't love me. Our marriage lasted three years, and we were separated for two and a half of them.
Then one day, Elara and I woke up at the exact same moment—we had been reborn, back to the very morning we were supposed to sign our marriage agreements...

Six months into the apocalypse, I risked my life to pamper my girlfriend like a princess, only to be betrayed by her and the camp leader .
My legs were broken, and I was thrown over the wall to be eaten by dogs ; hundreds of civilians I had once protected turned on me .
On the verge of death, I unexpectedly rescued a mysterious prodigy, instantly binding myself to an endless space and granting me divine healing abilities . My severed limbs regenerated instantly, and I had access to countless top-tier resources .
Returning to the camp fully healed, I stomped on the leader's knee and kicked my scheming ex-girlfriend into a horde of zombies .
In this damn apocalypse, from this day forward, I am the one and only new king .

After being stood up for the ninety-ninth time while attempting to register for marriage, I sent my fiancé a breakup message. He had allowed me to be let down ninety-nine times, dismissing my asthma as mere pretentiousness and perceiving my sacrifices as acts of greed, all the while lavishing his patience upon another woman. It was only when he had his mistress select a cheap necklace for me and sketched explicit nudes of her that I realized these seven years were not a narrative of profound love, but rather an absurd farce playing out solely in my life. The moment I dispatched the breakup message, I never envisioned that this man, who viewed me as dispensable, would later pursue me with a frenzied obsession.

The car crash six months ago destroyed my body. I survive the agony only through the painkillers prescribed by my brother, Fletcher.
While shopping for my wedding dress, I simply swallowed a pill on schedule. My mother responded with a slap that made me spit blood. My father stormed in and kicked my ribs in without asking a single question.
I fled crying to my brother, only for him to grab me in disgust: "You are a disgrace to this family."
I called my fiancé. He rushed to the scene, took one look at the pill, and called the cops without hesitation: "The engagement is off. She makes me sick."
In just a few hours, I went from a bride-to-be to a death row inmate.
But as the gavel fell, I saw our family maid calmly swallow the exact same pill from the gallery…
I lunged at the railing, screaming at the judge. He leaned down, a chilling smile spreading across his face: "Linnea, this is all because…"

The child I brought into this world through sheer determination now calls my husband's mistress "mother"; the youth who slew my father for my sake and was imprisoned, now confines me beyond the threshold, forcing me to hear his carnal symphony with his stepmother. Only then did I comprehend: the sixteen-year-old boy who committed patricide for me had long perished within the prison walls.

I was the unluckiest kid in my family—always the one pulling the black-tipped stick from that pretty little "Fairness Jar."
In our house, red meant new dresses, Disneyland, and a goodnight kiss from Mom. Black meant endless chores, lockup in the attic, and the kind of hunger that ate you from the inside out.
Mom loved to stroke my hair in front of the neighbors. "God gives everyone a fair shake," she'd say. "Riley's just a little unlucky, is all."
I believed her for fourteen years.
Until I had an asthma attack and died on that dusty attic floor.
The moment my soul slipped free, I looked down at the overturned Jar, its sticks scattered across the floorboards—and I finally understood why I'd drawn black every single time.

In my previous life, my younger sister, Lilith, married Arthur, the vampire prince.

I married Grant Taylor, a werewolf tycoon and the Empire’s richest man.

Everyone said I was the lucky one.

I traveled in luxury cars, wore custom-made designer clothes, and appeared to have a perfect marriage. The entire Empire admired us.

Lilith, however, was miserable in the vampire royal family.

The royal family’s rigid rules controlled every part of her life. She had to bow and curtsy at every turn while noblewomen looked down on her and humiliated her.

Arthur ignored her, yet one beautiful woman after another moved into his estate.

Lilith cried. She threw tantrums. In the end, she had an affair with a human royal guard.

When the affair came to light, she was stripped of her title and locked inside the dark, windowless Royal Tower.

The day Grant and I attended a banquet at the palace, she appeared before me with hatred burning in her eyes.

“Why do you get everything? Why am I the one who has to rot in here?”

A second later, she detonated the mana crystal hidden beneath her clothes.

The flames swallowed us both.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day we chose which marriage contract to sign.

Lilith moved first. She pointed at the marriage contract bearing the wolf emblem and announced that she would marry Grant.

I lowered my gaze, barely holding back a laugh.

She thought she had stolen a fortune from me.

She had no idea what kind of monster that man truly was.

A year ago, my ex abandoned me when I was broke and buried in debt, choosing the Russo family heiress instead.

On the day of his engagement party, he sent me a vicious text: "Wear a wedding dress to Plaza Hotel. Changed my mind. You're marrying me."

I showed up in white.

Luca and his crew waited at the entrance, ready to watch me humiliate myself.

He thought this was my degradation.

But what he didn't know was—I was getting married.

Just not to him.

To Dante Valentino—the most dangerous man in this godforsaken city.

I died from campus rumors and elite prejudice in my last life.
Reborn, I no longer choose to explain. I collect every timestamp, fingerprint and hidden deal.
I expose my traitorous boyfriend, fake weak rival, and the school’s biased protection of the privileged.
With ironclad proof, I overturned all injustice and let every hypocrite pay the price.

"Enjoying the show quite a lot, aren’t you, John?"
I had just shut the suite door, behind which lewd gasps and moans lingered, when Louise, the young heiress of a top tycoon family, walked straight up to me.
Slap!
A crisp, heavy slap landed hard across my face.
"You shameless cur!"
She snarled, her eyes filled with arrogant venom.
I clenched my jaw tightly, my nails digging sharply into my palms.
In this class pyramid forged by capital, I was nothing but a personal bodyguard worth even less than a pedigreed luxury dog.
Yet it was not long before this lofty young lady met with a plane crash. She ended up on her knees before me, groveling and begging for mercy.
"John… take me. I’m your slave."

The apocalyptic deluge came, and I rescued the entire village onto a cruise ship.

The villagers were deeply grateful to us.

But somehow a rumor spread—that I had a warehouse full of food and was refusing to feed them properly.

The villagers turned on me, hurling accusations left and right.

Helpless, I opened the warehouse to show them. There was barely anything left. But they still refused to believe me.

"Yu Lei! You must have hidden the food somewhere else!"

"That's right! He never really wanted to save us!"

They beat me with fists and feet, cursing me with every foul word they knew.

Then a gang of thugs stormed the ship.

Under their brutal rule, the entire village was enslaved. Young women became playthings. The children—their fate was even worse.

I tried to rally the villagers to fight back. But someone sold me out to the thugs, trading that information for a single full meal.

In the end, they beat me to death and tossed my body into the sea for the fish.

When I opened my eyes again, time had rewound to three days before the apocalypse. I immediately started packing, ready to get as far away from these ungrateful bastards as possible.

But the villagers were already crowded at my door, demanding I hand over the keys to the cruise ship.

It turned out I wasn't the only one who'd been reborn. The entire village had come back too.

I handed over the keys without a fuss.

After all, the System told me this time it would be a zombie apocalypse. What good was a ship?

On the eve of the apocalypse, magical beasts appeared in our world.
They possessed extraordinary abilities, and humans could master these powers by forming a contract with them.
In my previous life, my adopted brother chose a top-tier Wolf King pup.
But shortly after, the extreme heat apocalypse descended. The low-tier water snake I had contracted possessed the ability to conjure water and lower temperatures, inadvertently making me the envy of everyone.
Meanwhile, my brother’s Wolf King was universally despised for its excruciatingly slow growth and lack of immediate combat power.

Now, I have been reborn to the very day we chose our contracted beasts.
This time, my brother rushed ahead and snatched the water snake.
I know why.
He has been reborn, too.
But this apocalypse is not nearly as simple as he thinks!

Three weeks after my son's death, I found the blood-stained cloth doll meant to "ward off disaster" with his name stitched on it.

Right there, in the hands of my husband's mistress, who was giggling as she idly toyed with it.
 
"The psychic said my life force was too weak to keep the baby, and that I needed a substitute to take the curse."
 
"I only sewed Leo's name into the doll. I never imagined... he would actually get sick and die."
 
"Declan, do you think Leo traded his life for our baby's?"
 
Through the crack in the door, the same man who had sobbed until he passed out at the funeral was gently stroking his lover's belly. "He was just unlucky. As long as our baby is safe, that's all that matters."
 
I turned away, pulled up the invitation for Chief Medical Examiner from the International Criminal Court in The Hague that I had shelved for a month, and hit accept.

Serena and I got tricked into vampire territory, forced into blood slavery.
By the time the pack showed up to save us, I was already the top blood slave in that pit, kneeling beside the vampire count, counting his earnings.
Serena was left rotting in a cell, poisoned, pregnant, and barely alive.
The pack offered a huge bounty to find whoever set us up.
I was the only one who knew. And I said nothing.
Morwenna, the Alpha's mother, begged me on her knees to talk. I closed my eyes, pretending not to hear.
The elders pushed. I stayed silent.
My mate, Alpha Kai, dragged me onto the Blood Moon memory altar, furious.
"Serena's dying in that tent, and you're here protecting those animals!"
"Disgusting. How did I ever fall for you!"
"This stone's going to rip your soul apart and drag you to hell with your precious vampires!"
But when the truth finally surfaced, Kai just stood there. Speechless.

"Help! Somebody help me! Julian is trying to kill my baby!" I scream at the top of my lungs, bursting into my gender reveal party.

Just minutes ago, Julian was my perfect, doting husband. Then he opens my unborn baby's genetic screening report. The unadulterated ferocity and revulsion simmering in his eyes makes my entire body shake. He grips my arm, demanding I terminate the pregnancy.

I already died once because of that piece of paper. In my past life, they dragged me to a freezing lab, pumped me full of drugs, and murdered my child before locking me in an asylum.

This time, I hide behind the guests. But my parents storm in. After seeing the report, instead of saving me, Dad kicks me squarely in the stomach.

"You shameless little whore," he spits.

They are about to drag me out the back door when two police officers step through the glass doors. The cop hands me the confiscated report.

I look down at the printed words... and finally understand.

The second the avalanche came down, I called my mate. Karl. Captain of the Pack Guard's First Squad.

He dug me out, carried me onto the helicopter, and told the pilot to take off before the second rescue team even got there.

He didn't know Delilah was buried in the same slide. The girl he'd never gotten over.

By the time they reached her, she'd been under the snow for three hours in twenty below.

Karl stood in the morgue all night.

He came back the next day and just gave me a small smile. "It wasn't your fault. You were carrying our pup. Of course you came first."

For a month after that, he was gentler than he'd ever been. He cleared his schedule to take me to every checkup. Cooked for me himself. Put the crib together, the dresser too. Every single thing in the nursery lined up exactly right.

I thought that avalanche had finally buried Delilah. That it had given him back to me.

Until the day I went into labor.

He sent every doctor and nurse out of the delivery room. There was a silver scalpel in his hand.

The moment he cut me open, I saw the red in his eyes.

Our pup was still crying, small and weak, and he never even looked. He threw us both into the incinerator.

"If it weren't for you, Delilah would still be alive. Your life for hers."

Then I opened my eyes, and I was back at the moment the avalanche hit.

At the scene of the car accident, my parents frantically scooped up my sister—who only had a scraped knee—then kicked me aside as I lay there dying.
"Don't be a burden to your sister. Just wait by the roadside and croak!"
They drove off without a second thought. In that moment, my heart turned to stone.
What they didn't know was that I didn't die. Instead, I got adopted by a top-tier professor and became a math prodigy worth tens of millions.
Two years later, when my birth parents went bankrupt and got on their knees begging me for a handout, I smiled coldly and played the recording of their attempted murder...

On my wedding day, my mother walked in and took my gown off the rack. Then she handed it to Coralie — the sister my parents adopted, the one I've given half my magic to every month for five years.
The High Priest says my stars are cursed. So Coralie will marry Roland in my place. My fiancé. The man I nearly died healing.
My father tells me to think of the bigger picture. Roland won't even look at me. Not one of them looks back as they leave me alone in that room.
They think I'll stand here and take it, like I always have.
They don't know about the black whistle in my sleeve — the one a dying man pressed into my hand at the edge of the Abyss. Blow it, he said, and I'll come for you.
I've been good for too long.
I'm done.

The seventh year of being reclaimed by the Alpha family, and I still haven't stepped into the inner circle of the family.

The family’s ancient rules are clear: for a member to return after being cast out, they must submit an application to return, signed by the Alpha and approved by the council of elders, followed by re-recording of the bloodline in the scent registry, before they can be officially accepted back into the family.

My brother submitted ninety-nine times of applications for me, none of which were approved.

On the hundredth attempt, I watched through the ajar door of the council hall as the green wax-sealed "Permission for Return" stamp fell onto my file.

My mom died saving me during a kidnapping. At least, that’s what everyone believed. My dad—once the man who spoiled me like his little princess—turned his grief into hatred. He adopted a girl who looked just like Mom and gave her all the love that used to be mine. For five years, I lived in that shadow, broken and unwanted. Until the day I was beaten and left for dead… and my mom came back. Alive.
• He used to call me his treasure. Now he calls me a curse. But the night my mom returned, everything shattered—his lies, his obsession, and the truth I was never meant to know.

I was once the woman Michael was dead set on marrying, only to be cast aside right after our engagement, all because of Lily, that so-called terminally ill, pitiful little “sister” of his.
With a shattered heart, I boarded the honeymoon flight that was supposed to belong to both of us. But The plane crashed.
I survived, by sheer luck, saved by a stranger named Liam and ended up on a remote island.
One year later, I returned to the public eye as a scriptwriter, telling my own story. At the press conference, I saw Michael again.
Gray streaks threaded through his hair. His eyes brimmed with regret, disbelief, and a desperate kind of joy. He grabbed me, begged for forgiveness, told me Lily’s lies had been exposed, told me he had spent the past year drowning in remorse.
But I only looked at him calmly and said: “Emily have been dead since the plane crashed. What you thought was a wife-chasing crematorium was nothing more than your own one-man show.”

"Hey, don't move!"
I was robbed by a stranger. But what he wanted was not money.
He tore my clothes off, kept kissing me hard, not to rape me.
He wanted me to cover his blood and track from his enemies.
I saw blood running out of his stomach.
He said thank you after he fooled his enemies.
I let him come into my place to get the bullet out of him.
I was a doctor.
He gave me a kiss the next morning and disappeared from my life.
It felt like a dream, I couldn't help thinking about the night making out with him.
Until one day, I saw him again in the hospital.
I learned that he was a soldier and that he had looked for me and loved me for a very very long time...
But I had no memory of him, until...

Isabella Monte is distraught when her family loses everything. Determined not to lose her parents, she swore on her father's hospital bed to get back all they had lost.
However her father told her that it was futile as their suffering was caused by Angelo Flores, the wealthiest bachelor in Panama.
Angelo would stop at nothing to completely get rid of the Monte's as he blames them for the death of his parents and sister. While at the hospital with her father, Isabella is visited by none other than Angelo and a deal is placed before her.
"Marry me and I will let your family go." Against her father's will, Isabella agrees to Angelo's demands. Her hatred for him is stronger than ever as she vows to make him pay for her family's suffering.
But, what happens when Isabella finds herself falling for the enemy?
WARNING: MATURE CONTENT

After being murdered in an arson attack, I was reborn to the moment right after marrying Charles.
This time, all I want is to fight for my daughter's future and my career.
But just when the divorce papers are ready, the always cold and distant Charles suddenly begs me to stay.
——
I hesitated...

To celebrate landing our biggest client of the year, the company rented out the entire terrace of a beachside bar.

When it was time for the team photo, the only open spot left was next to my boyfriend, Harrison Kent.

I'd barely moved over when he waved toward the back of the crowd. "Lacey, come stand here."

Lacey Monroe was my best friend. She squeezed in beside him with a smile. The second the camera clicked, the whole terrace erupted in whistles.

"Okay, these two belong on a magazine cover!"

"Since when does Mr. Kent ask anyone to take a picture with him? I mean, come on."

Someone popped a bottle of champagne in the middle of it all. The crowd pushed forward, I got shoved into a table, and a broken glass sliced open my palm. Barely a few feet away, Harrison was bent over, wiping champagne off Lacey's dress.

The company had a strict rule against dating your boss. For three years, I'd helped him keep us perfectly hidden, believing that one day he'd finally take my hand in front of everyone.

But standing there with my bleeding hand clenched, I suddenly didn't want to wait anymore.

I was done with a relationship that could never see the light of day.

The husband my family had picked for me barely spoke and never cracked a smile.

So I decided to mess with him.

I pinched his butt, nipped his Adam’s apple, and ran my hands over his chest.

Grant Whitmore’s ears went red with outrage. His face stayed as cool and proper as ever.

Until one night, when I came home from partying.

He spotted the hickey on my neck, and his eyes went red. “Who did that?”

“You understand that married people aren’t supposed to cheat, don’t you?”

“I know what happened. Some little slut out there threw themselves at you.”

“You’re young. You don’t know any better. I don’t blame you.”

A second later, he was threatening to hang himself from a ceiling beam. “Tell me who that little slut is, or I’ll kill myself right in front of you!”

Excuse me?

"You'll regret this," he said, certain I was only bluffing.
I still signed the divorce papers—without asking for a single extra dollar.
For three years, I was the wife who left a light on for him, who knew exactly how warm he liked his water, how strong his coffee should be, even what his silence meant. He never once asked what I wanted.
"I can't live without you," he now begs, kneeling in the rain outside my building.
Some men only learn to bow their heads after they've already lost everything worth keeping.

Two months before the cataclysm, Olivia Sterling wakes up from three years into the apocalypse.

Last time around, she clawed her way through an Echo-infested Manhattan for three years — from a nobody no one gave a second look, up to second-in-command of a survivor stronghold — and then she woke up again on the night the boss dropped dead. This time is different. She remembers the day the ash rain falls. She remembers the hour the bridges go under. She remembers exactly who is the first to cut through the electric fence around her estate.

So the first thing she does is liquidate.

A trust fund in the tens of billions, real estate on four continents, antiquities snatched out from under Sotheby's — all of it converted into grain, live cattle, pharmaceuticals, firearms. Plus an Absolute Space where time is frozen solid, a pizza still hot enough to burn your mouth a year after it goes in. The second thing she does is pull her best friend Rexie out of the Rikers Island psychiatric holding facility — the woman who stands six feet tall and swings an eighty-pound two-handed greatsword like it's a broom handle, and who one day will turn into a three-meter North American grizzly.

The crimson aurora falls, and order falls with it. Neighbors come knocking with knives. Armed crews come over the wall. Official broadcasts repeat, over and over, ‘’please trust us‘’. Olivia's answer is a high-voltage grid, a Damascus steel longsword, and one sentence: ‘’Private property. Trespassers die.‘’

From the Long Island estate to the Central Park refugee camp, from the cannibal gang's slaughterhouse under Brooklyn to the fortress basement where human beings are lab rats in a research center — she collects people, collects debts, collects payment. A time traveler who claims to be from the year 3000, a hyper-intelligent black bear who trades tricks for honey, a little mushroom that wiggles its stem whenever music plays — one by one, they all end up in her crew.

But what actually drags her forward is a pocket watch engraved with "133," and the fog out at sea that never lifts.

The truth behind her parents' disappearance, the human-shaped fruit the Divine Tree bears, the green-eyed child on the watch face — every thread leads to the same island.

And this time, she has no intention of merely surviving.

Marriage is meant to be a dream come true, but Isolde Conklin’s marriage is the complete opposite. Sold to a cruel Alpha by her parents, she endures three agonizing years of constant assault.

During one cold night, she’s had enough of the humiliation and constant harassment. So she does something insane—she kills her own husband.

Soaked in his blood, she runs as bullets fly over her head, but she’s eventually saved by Alpha Ryder of the Redblood pack.

But Ryder didn’t save her because he cares. He saved her because he wants to avenge his mother’s death. Now trapped in a pack full of secrets, enemies, and men who would do anything to claim her, Isolde must survive or risk losing everything…..including her life.

Two weeks before my due date, my husband Ethan is racing out the door into a stormy night.

All because his childhood friend Scarlett's apartment lost power, and she says her claustrophobia is kicking in.

I'm clutching my belly, telling him my water broke, begging him to look at the blood on the floor.

"You pulling this again? Last week wasn't enough? Scarlett's actually in danger."

He shakes off my hand. The door slams shut.

I'm standing in a pool of blood, watching his taillights disappear into the rain.

My baby won't have a father anymore.

“You can stand there and deny it all you want,” he said huskily in my ear. “But I know how drenched you were that night. Your tight little p*ssy? It was calling my name, baby.”

“You’re insane! I never wanted you!” I gritted out, hating how weak I sounded. Hating how my arms suddenly didn’t have the strength to push him away.

How there was a part of me that truly wanted him, despite everything.

“Keep denying it,” he murmured, eyes darkening. “It just makes me more eager to bend you over my desk and f*ck that attitude right out of you.”


When executive assistant Alice Rhodes sent her arrogant and insufferable boss, Theodore Linden-Hawthorne, a sext during the company’s New Year’s party, her life turned completely upside down.

She lost everything: her fiancé, her family, and her best friend, all because of one embarrassing mistake. To make matters worse, Theodore seemed incapable of staying away from her, and Alice was horrified to realize that the feeling was slowly starting to become mutual.

But this attraction between them came at a price. Alice and Theodore came from two completely different worlds. Their attraction was forbidden and frowned upon by everyone around them. Would their love survive vengeful exes, juicy scandals, hidden secrets, and unexpected surprises?

A substitute, huh?

She met him out of luck, and out of the blue, he proposed something to her that she couldn't possibly refuse.

To become his wife.

But unknown to her, she was just a substitute to him, all because she resembled his beloved ex.

And when his ex returned, she was something he could easily discard.

Heartbroken, betrayed, and called a golddigger, she left with her little brother and her mother, who was recovering from a dangerous illness.

Only to return 7 years later as a completely different person with pride.

What happens when they cross paths with each other? Especially when he saw a young child beside her who looked just like his childhood pictures? But most especially, what would happen when he discovered just how much he was hated by the child, since his mother had filled his mind with something beyond saying.

Torn between the man she loves, and the man who loves her....

Cordia has always been strong-willed, but she knows her family expects her to accept the hand of her childhood friend, Jaris, in marriage. As the conflict continues to escalate, Cordia hopes it will last long enough for her to find a way to free herself without breaking her friend’s heart.

On the eve of war, Cordia meets a mysterious newcomer. There’s just something about Will that she finds both intriguing and dangerous. She makes a plan to write to him. Perhaps by the time the war is over, Will’s feelings for Cordia will have blossomed into love.

But by the time war begins to wind its way through Missouri, one of these men will be dead, and Cordia will find herself betrothed to a man she loathes. Will she have the courage to follow her heart, or will she do as she is told and acquiesce to a loveless marriage to a heartless traitor?

Bonus story Cordia's Hope!

Forbidden love on the frontier....
Hope is content staying in her hometown of Lamar, Missouri, focusing on her life as a schoolteacher instead of finding love. But when she hears the truth about her parents' romance during the Civil War, how her mother Cordia set out to find her father Will after a deadly battle, Hope is determined to have that sort of adventure as well.

Accepting a teaching position in a frontier town in Texas isn't quite what she was expecting--there are no marauders or gunslingers--but there is one man with a shady past, and when the entire town tells her to stay away from Judah Lawless, Hope finds herself drawn to him.

Is Judah dangerous, or will Hope finally find the romance she's been looking for?

I was in love with Ethan Black, a brilliant man with big dreams. I gave him my twenties, my body, my loyalty. I worked three jobs while he chased his startup dreams. And when he finally made it, he became a stranger.
Then I found out he got another woman pregnant, the same woman who dumped him in college when his family lost everything. That nearly destroyed me. But I stayed. I told myself love was worth it.
But nothing could prepare me for the day he left our four-year-old daughter home alone… to go see her. And our little girl died.
I buried my child and with her, the woman I used to be.
Now, I live for one thing only: Revenge.
He took everything from me. Now I’ll take everything from him.
He doesn’t know it yet… but I’m not the same woman he left behind. And by the time I’m done, he’ll wish he never met me.

I’m Molly Johnson. At my own engagement party, I witnessed my fiancé’s betrayal with my stepsister right before my eyes. Devastated, I turned around and married Edward Howard—a wealthy heir rumored to be terminally ill, with not much time left to live.
Everyone laughed, saying I was in a hurry to become a widow. But little did they know, I leaned close to his ear, my breath warm and teasing: “Since you don’t have much time left, why not play a little game with me?”
I flirted with him, tempted him, watched as his indifference slowly melted into a blush at the tips of his ears.
Until one day, he cornered me against the wall, his eyes burning with longing. “Molly… tease me again. Please.”

After six years of marriage, Celia's name appeared only on a confidentiality agreement.
On the night of their anniversary, through the glass she saw her husband Arthur, their daughter Léonie, and Diana—the socialite with "only five months left"—dining together. She asked for a divorce, and got only one sentence in return: "Play your part as Mrs. Winston."
Every step after that was hard: her accounts were frozen, her studio was forced to hand over its work, and at a competition the restroom door was locked from the outside. But when she was at her most wretched, someone caught her. Victor had originally been just an employer, hiring her to drive his niece Ivy to and from places; he sewed a tracker into her coat and brought people to the scene during a kidnapping. The two of them went from an employment contract to standing side by side.
It was also then that her origins were exposed—she was actually a daughter of the Harrington family, and her mother had left her founding shares on her deathbed. Unfortunately, her father and two older brothers never acknowledged her: they would rather she did not exist than have her written into the list of heirs.
She still returned to the family. At the family council, her father's veto, her brothers' mockery, and the shareholders' wait-and-see attitude bore down on her all at once. One by one, she laid out the contracts and evidence her mother had left behind, and what she got in return was silence filling the room.
That was when Victor stood by her side. He taught her how to read the books, how to set prices, when to give an inch, and when not to retreat a single step. All winter, the two of them kept watch under a single lamp, prying her mother's shares back from others' hands layer by layer.
On the night before the final document was settled, she obtained a seat on the board.
That same night, Victor disappeared.
His phone was unreachable, his apartment empty, and on the table there was only a half-finished glass of water, and the half of his past he had never been willing to mention.

Blurb:

“Did the condom really break all those years back or did you just want to baby trap me, Varian?”

He looked at me, eyes freezing over, “I just did what time you would make sure you would never leave my side,”

•••••••••••••

Varian and Thalia had been childhood sweethearts ever since they were little. He was the alpha son and she came from the Beta line, there's seemed like a perfect love story just waiting for its happy ending. That was until Thalia got a scholarship to go to Crescent University and pursue her dream of becoming a professional healer, it was supposed to mark the end of their relationship until another curveball was thrown at them–Thalia’s pregnancy.

Her dream was eventually flushed down the toilet, exchanged for being an underappreciated glorified housewife with the title of Luna slapped across it. Varian had become distant over the years then the straw that broke the camel's back was when she found out that he had been cheating with her best friend, devastation claimed her. She demanded for a divorce and as if to punish her he made sure she was left with nothing more than the clothes on her back.

One night she disappeared with her twins, and years passed. Varian came face-to-face with her again. The only woman who could cure a plague unlike any seen in a hundred years. He tried to win her back but now saw that their twins was calling another man ‘Daddy’

He was supposed to be my way out, but he was the one who pushed me into the pit all along.
I used to think Carter was the one good thing in this hellhole of a high school. He'd stand up for me when the whole class mocked my stutter. He'd hand me a clean jacket when my locker got stuffed with dead rats.
For him, I gave up my Ivy League dreams, willingly settling for some mediocre state university.
Until that Friday outside the locker room, when I heard him brag to his teammates and the head cheerleader—the same girl who'd led the charge in tormenting me—about his "conquest" in the most casual tone imaginable.
Turns out, I was just the prize in their sick bet.
In that moment, everything I'd believed in shattered.
I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I just quietly changed my college application, and then, at the height of their triumph, I watched with cold eyes as they destroyed themselves.

In my previous life, I married the old-money aristocrat Charles for the sake of so-called love, only to exhaust my heart and soul enduring his mother's torment and his own spineless cowardice.

I eventually left that marriage with nothing but scars.
 
Meanwhile, my gentle and kind-hearted sister, Chloe, married the self-made shipping magnate Alexander.

Yet, she was relentlessly tormented by the so-called "comrade's sister" he kept in his mansion, ultimately slitting her wrists in a bathtub in utter despair.
 
Now, I was back to the exact moment we were about to sign our prenuptial agreements.
 
The second our eyes met, Chloe and I recognized the shared, unspoken resolve in each other's gaze—we had both been reborn.