Are There Any Sequels To All Out?

We're celebrating my son, Baby Selwyn, turning a month old. I'm walking past the pool with him in my arms when someone shoves me from behind. Colin Selwyn jumps into the pool like a madman. He saves us and immediately rushes us to the hospital. Baby Selwyn makes it out alive because of the timely rescue. When I open my eyes again, Baby Selwyn and Colin aren't by my side. I sit up while coughing and remove the needle inserted into my hand. I leave the hospital room and head for the pediatric department, wanting to see Baby Selwyn. However, as I walk past the emergency room, I hear Colin talking to a doctor. "We managed to save the child from drowning, Mr. Selwyn. Why has he now died of asphyxiation?" "I smothered him. Per the plan, he was never supposed to make it out alive!" "But why? He's your son!" "I promised Sandy that I would make our child the Selwyn family's sole heir. Lucille should never have given birth to Baby Selwyn." Colin's tone is gentle and calm, yet his words are cold and cruel. I've always thought I had a loving marriage, but it's just a joke! I've already lost my beloved son, and my heartless husband is the one behind his death. I don't want him anymore!

Everyone in New York knew that Don Lorenzo Capone loved his wife dearly. At the height of our love, he shielded me from a bullet that went straight through his chest. The hospital issued eleven critical condition notices. I cried myself hoarse at the door of the emergency room. "Lorenzo, don't you dare die on me, or I'll instantly find a pretty boy to marry and have children with!" He survived the ordeal, and the first thing he did when he opened his eyes was to marry me. After the marriage, he ruled over New York's largest underground empire with an iron fist, but never allowed any woman to get close to him. On our third wedding anniversary, I went to his private dock to give him a surprise. There, I saw him holding a pair of twins, teaching them how to shoot. The man who could kill without batting an eye was looking at the children with eyes full of affection. The children's mother was Elena Tribbiani, the daughter of an arms dealer who was his equal. "Lorenzo, what if Vivian finds out?" Lorenzo dismissed it casually. "A fragile porcelain doll like her is only fit to be displayed in a glass case. Only a she-wolf like you is worthy of bearing my family's cubs." It turned out, what I thought was true love was merely a carefully-woven lie. I did not confront him. Instead, I sent a text message to an FBI special agent. "Agent Smith, I have a list of the arms deal you’re investigating."

The day before the spacecraft launch, I am anonymously reported for concealing a mental illness and lose my qualification to board. After being confined in a psychiatric hospital for three years, my husband, Simon Bergman, who is now a decorated figure in the aerospace field, personally brings me home. "I had no choice but to send you there. I even applied to be demoted just to bring you back. Let's just live our lives well from now on," Simon says. Burdened by guilt for affecting his career, I spend the rest of my life carefully taking care of him and busying myself in the kitchen as a dutiful wife. But before I die, my daughter finds the letter accusing me of having a mental condition—it is written in my husband's own hand. She also discovers decades of correspondence between him and a deceased war buddy's widow named Charmaine Marlowe. In those letters, he writes that to fulfill his buddy's dying wish to take care of Charmaine, he fabricates a false mental illness record and inserts it into my astronaut application. As a result, I was sent to the psychiatric hospital, and my position was taken by her. The glass shatters, and the sharp fragments pierce me, like they are stabbing into my heart. I was supposed to be the one to go to space. But my husband sacrificed my chance so that another woman could have it! I die in despair. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day of the astronaut selection for the manned spacecraft launch. This time, when Simon offers to help submit my application, I refuse to let him.

“Why would I reject you? We are mates. Tell me why.” he demanded to know. “I am an omega. They say my mother was banished. I have been an omega for as long as I can remember,” I told him and felt shame wash over me as I twiddled with my fingers. He let out a low growl and caused me to recoil into the corner of the bed. “Victoria, I assure you that I will do nothing. Those who have harmed you in any way will be dealt with accordingly. Mark my words,” he said, leaning over to kiss my forehead. Victoria is nineteen years old and unwanted in the Red Moon Pack. She’s just the Omega Girl that nobody wanted. Beaten and scolded daily, she sees no end to her pain and no way out. When she meets her future mate, she is sure he will reject her too. Most of the werewolves get their wolves when they hit eighteen, but here she is, 19 years old and still not got her wolf or shifted. Of course, the pack found it to be yet another reason to treat her like trash, beating and bullying her. Except she’s not just an omega girl. Victoria is about to find out who she really is, and things are about to change. Will Victoria realize her worth and see she is worthy to be loved? What will happen when her sworn enemy, Eliza, vows to take everything from Victoria?

Alexandra, an independent introvert who, since losing her mother and sister consecutively due to illness, struggles to trust and rely on other people. That is until she met Jacob. Her cousin’s new tenants. With his etiquette and empathy, he sure gave her a lasting impression. But the insecurity of losing the women of her life is keeping her from relying to anyone. Will this be enough for Alexandra to finally take down her guards and open up?

When the zombie apocalypse hit, pets leveled up into guardians. Three per person. That was the cap. My buddy dropped serious cash on three Caucasian Shepherds. My landlord dumped his fish and started raising crocodiles. My girlfriend bolted to the zoo and came back with a lion. Me? I had three strays. Bubba—blind. Missy—lame. Snowy—barely a month old. The second the system locked pet slots, I knew I was screwed. I barricaded myself inside with my three "broken" cats and kept my head down. Day one—fear. Day two—helpless. Day three—the cats strolled back in, tails up, dragging something I didn't recognize. Bubba looked at me. "Dad, I bit off every zombie head on the block. I'm solid, right?" I just stared.