How Does My Mad Fat Diary: A Memoir End?

“I’ve been waiting for you for five years,” said Julian Mendoza as he kissed my neck. “Do you know how crazy it drove me to wait that long, always imagining your sexy body on top of mine?” “But I’m fat and ugly, that’s why your nephew divorced me,” I said, biting my lip as he sucked on my neck until it turned red. “He’s such a fool! You’re absolutely beautiful with your curvy body,” he said. ** Lorena was divorced by Diego Mendoza because he considered her fat and ugly. He also believed she was infertile. Until one day, Lorena had to meet Julian Mendoza, a CEO and Diego Mendoza’s uncle. She borrowed one million dollars to pay for her father’s surgery, while the rest was used to pay off her parents’ debts. Julian Mendoza gave her the one million dollars, but on one condition: Lorena had to become his wife.

I LEFT BROKEN AND FAT, I CAME BACK HIS BOSS WITH TRIPLETS Fourteen months, three weeks, four days. That is how long Emma Carson has been married to a man who barely looks at her. She has learned to zip her own dresses, eat dinners alone, and stand slightly behind her husband at every event. Being overlooked teaches you to listen extremely well. What she has not learned is what Liam Carson planned two weeks before the wedding. Six months. Marry her cleanly. End it cleanly. Return to the woman he actually wanted. But Liam serves the divorce over coffee like he is cancelling a subscription, sends Emma away with nothing but her dignity, and never asks the one question that would have changed everything. He never asks if she is carrying his child. She is. Three of them. Eighteen months later, Emma Carson does not exist anymore. Emma Bellamy does. She runs Bellamy Inc, one of Europe's fastest-rising companies. She answers to no one. She raises three brilliant, chaotic, grey-eyed children in a Paris apartment that smells like lavender and possibility. Nobody in her industry knows who she used to be. Until Carson Holdings submits a meeting request. She declines it. Then another. When Liam finally flies to Paris himself, Emma sits at the head of her own boardroom table and tells him to call her Ms. Bellamy. He thought he was closing a business deal. He has no idea what he is walking into. He wants the merger. He will have to earn everything else. The company. The forgiveness. The three small children with his eyes who have never been told his name. Some women fall apart. Emma Bellamy built an empire.

I’m Bella, a plus-size fashion influencer who smiles for the camera and tells thousands of followers to love their curves. But behind closed doors? My husband Ryan tears me down every single day. He calls me fat, disgusting, and refuses to touch me. I felt worthless… until I hired Marcus, my personal trainer. In my own words, it started as innocent home workouts. Then the tension snapped. One sweaty squat session turned into the hottest kiss of my life, and suddenly I was moaning Marcus’s name while my husband was at work. Every session gets riskier and hotter. I feel truly desired for the first time in years, but the guilt and danger keep growing. My followers notice my glowing confidence. Ryan starts paying attention again. And Marcus’s wife is getting suspicious. This book is extremely explicit. Expect raw, high-heat romance scenes packed with sweat, domination, and intense pleasure. Marcus doesn’t hold back because of my weight, rough pounding from behind while I’m bent over the workout bench, passionate mirror body claiming, shower scenes, risky quickies, and long, filthy sessions filled with dirty talk, spanking, hair-pulling, choking, and multiple explosive orgasms. He worships my thick thighs, soft belly, and heavy chest in ways my husband never did. Cliffhangers will leave you breathless, close calls, near discoveries, police cases, court rooms. If you love forbidden cheating stories, dominant men, plus-size heroines finally claimed, and addictive erotic drama, then dive in. My story is messy, sweaty, and completely addictive.

She was hired to stand at the altar. She was never supposed to say I do. Naomi Bridges needed rent money, not a husband. But when a mysterious woman pays her to be a "stand-in bride" for a private ceremony, Naomi asks zero questions and signs every paper put in front of her. Big mistake. Because the ceremony is real. The groom is real. And Adrian Holt, billionaire, is now her very real, very furious husband. With one ancient inheritance clause standing between Adrian and everything his father built, the marriage cannot be dissolved. Not for a year. Not without destroying him. So she moves into his mansion, survives his ice-cold mother, outlasts his beautiful ex and quietly begins to wonder why a photograph of her dead mother sits in a Holt family box dated twenty years ago. Then the real bride turns up dead. And someone sends Adrian a video that points directly at his wife. Naomi came for rent money. She stayed for answers. But the deeper she digs, the clearer it becomes that she wasn't chosen by accident... She was chosen because of who she really is. Some marriages are mistakes. Some mistakes are destiny.

For as long as she could remember, Ivy Monroe had been told she was too fat, too plain, and too unworthy to be loved. Forced into an arranged marriage with billionaire CEO Julian Vance, she spent a year enduring humiliation, neglect, and heartbreak while her husband openly flaunted his mistress.  When Ivy discovers she's pregnant, she believes the baby might finally give her a reason to hope. Instead, she loses the child after a cruel act of betrayal and is thrown out into the night with nothing but a box of clothes and divorce papers. Left bleeding and alone, Ivy is rescued by renowned surgeon Dr. Ethan Knight, a man determined to help her rebuild the life others stole from her. As Ivy rises from the ashes stronger than ever, those who destroyed her discover that some women don't break—they become unstoppable.

I had a best friend who was sweet as honey but only with her mouth. Behind my back, she was a demon. She stole my boyfriend, the underboss of the Chicago Outfit. Her excuse? She wanted to keep me away from the darkness and the blood, so she'd take the suffering in my place. She pawned her wedding ring and fed her husband some story about a limited edition bag for me. She skimmed from her husband's company accounts and pinned it on my male escort habit. She was pregnant and still wanted thrills. So she went to a full-blown orgy with her husband's uncle and a group of his associates. That's how she ended up hemorrhaging. But somehow it was my fault. I was the one who organized that kind of party, according to her. And her story? She tried to stop me, so I pushed her down and made her lose the baby. In the end, her husband sent me to a cartel hellhole in Mexico to atone for my sins. There, her lover sold me to the red-light district. First came the addiction. Then the streets. I served every man in their outfit, one after another. My body rotted. I died slow, sick, and alone. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night my best friend miscarried because of her own filthy party.