Is 'Not Quiet Dead Yet' Based On A True Story?

My marriage to Bryan wasn’t perfect, but it was never bad enough for me to want him dead. Yet when he was brutally murdered in a hotel room, every finger pointed at me. His family accused me. The world believed them I spent months behind bars for a crime I didn’t commit. My empire crumbled. My only child now sees me as a murderer. I was bullied, broken, and forgotten until Damon stepped back into my life. Damon, my ex-lover, is now fighting to clear my name. He has one goal: to set me free. But he has another theory, one more shocking than the accusation itself, My Husband could be faking his death to make me suffer and start a new life with his mistress . Freedom didn’t make life easier. Outside those prison walls, I’m paying for my husband’s mistakes while battling for custody of my son, his family took everything from me but what if i turned everything around in my favour? And the question haunting me remains: Or how long was my supposed dead husband going to keep hiding?

After years of running from her past, Lissa returns to the one place she never wanted to see again—her childhood home. The town hasn’t changed, but Lissa has. Now a mother, a wife, and a survivor, she’s trying to rebuild a life while standing on the crumbling foundation of her trauma. Just a few months. Just until she finds her footing. But the house doesn’t let go so easily. It smells of mildew and memory. Dust covers more than furniture—it coats every secret Lissa tried to bury. As she navigates motherhood, old friendships, and a strained relationship with her sister, Lissa discovers more than ghosts in the attic. A photograph violently scribbled out. A letter from someone she hoped was lost to time. And a journal that brings her back to the girl she used to be. Her husband, Colt, tries to be her anchor. Her son, Lucas, is her reason to fight. But a single name—just one letter, T—is all it takes to fracture her resolve. The past isn’t dead. It’s waiting in the basement. In a letter tucked behind old receipts. In the quiet corners of her memory where no one else can go. As the days pass, the house begins to feel like a trap.Lissa must decide if she’s strong enough to dig through the wreckage of her past… or if some secrets are better left buried. Told with raw emotion and atmospheric suspense, House of Quiet Screams is a story of trauma, resilience, and the silent strength it takes to confront what once felt un faceable. For Lissa, surviving was never the end of the story—facing what comes after might be the beginning.

My younger sister’s wolf was unstable from birth. The pack healers called it frenzy sickness. Loud noises, blood scent, anger, fear, even a sudden shock could push her into a violent episode. So my whole life was put on silent mode. I could not laugh too loud. I could not cry where she could smell it. I could not even scream when I was hurt, because pain had a scent, too. My parents always held me with guilty eyes. “Nova, your sister’s wolf needs the whole family to stay calm. You are strong. You are steady. You can handle more than she can. Just this once, okay?” But “just this once” became my entire life. That day, I accidentally knocked over a tray of metal parts in my father’s forge. The crash echoed through the house. Iris screamed at once. Her eyes flashed red, and her claws tore through her palms. Father shoved me aside and rushed over to protect her; I hit the edge of the forge table so hard that something cracked deep beneath my ribs. There was no blood on my clothes. No wound they could see. I curled up on the cold floor and whispered, “Mom, it hurts.” My mother looked at me. For one second, I thought she would come. Then Iris screamed louder. Everyone ran to my sister. They thought the quiet daughter could wait. They did not know my broken rib had torn through my liver. They did not know I was bleeding where no one could see. By the time they finally remembered me, I had already died alone on the floor.

We had been in love for years, and everyone believed that Henley was utterly devoted to me. Even I thought so—until the day I saw him in bed with a younger woman. I lost all will to live and chose the most peaceful way to end it all. When Henley found out I had donated my body, he completely lost his mind.

Anne only wanted a new different environment to restart life again while balancing long hospital shifts and a home care job. Sharing an apartment seemed simple enough until she met Joy. Joy is vibrant, unpredictable, and carrying a heartbreak she refuses to talk about. What starts as a simple roommate arrangements slowly turns into something deeper as the two women begin to understand each other in ways no one else ever has. Between late nights conversations, shared secrets and moments filled with unspoken emotions, Anne realizes that sometimes the strongest connections are built in silence But when past relationships and hidden feelings threaten to pull them apart, Anne is caught between loyalty, friendship and the stirrings of love. She must decide whether the quiet between them is just comfort or something more dangerous to her heart.

Promise was born into silence — a silence woven from an oath made before she could speak. Her village called it tradition. Her mother called it survival. But to Promise, it was a prison. She dreamed of Lagos, of lights and cameras, of a life that stretched beyond clay walls and whispered fears. Yet when the truth of her birth is revealed, everything she longs for seems impossibly far. The elders insist she must never leave. Her mother pleads with her to stay. And the weight of generations threatens to bury her voice. Between love and loyalty, fear and freedom, Promise must choose whether to surrender to a curse or defy it — even if it means breaking her world apart. The Girl Who Broke the Silence is a sweeping tale of tradition and defiance, of love and survival. It is the story of one girl’s fight to claim her name in a world that tried to silence her.