Is The Sulphite Novel Based On A True Story?

Cassidy was just an average, geeky girl, and a loner, who finally made a few friends during the start of her senior year, but was tragically sent to live on the other side of the world with her only known relative in Hampstead, North West London, when her father died from an odd animal attack during his hiking trip with some friends and her stepmother had just chosen that moment to disappear and left her with nothing. On her way to find her Aunt's place, she got lost and bumped into a strangely pale guy yet deadly beautiful who glared at her with utmost contempt the moment he laid his eyes on her. She was glad when she arrived at her Aunt's place and decided to forget about the weird guy she met. However, a few days after she started attending St. Claire Academy, a new student came and to her horror, it was the guy she had met who hated her before he even knew her, and to top it off, he was in her class too! Then, news came about the mysterious disappearances and deaths, especially of young girls just after the new guy; Caleb Scovell moved to the area. What will Cassidy do when wherever she goes, it seems like Caleb coincidentally is around too? Will she stay away from him when his piercing, icy, blue eyes compel her to go near him even if he looks dangerous?

A string of sexual assault cases sweeps through Fenborough, and all the evidence points toward me. In just a single night, I've become the prime suspect and target of everyone's anger. The moment I get home, my wife, Natalie Parker, glares at me with hatred and disgust. "A monster like you doesn't deserve to be called a human!" As she rages at me, she dumps a bottle of sulfuric acid on my crotch. The agonizing pain makes me collapse onto the floor, unable to move. The next day, she brings another man to the house—Harvey Green. He looks down at me and says, "So you're nothing but a scumbag. No wonder she detests you so much." Natalie also eyes me coldly, her words cutting as she says, "Why would I keep a tainted piece of trash like you around? Just the sight of you disgusts me." I refuse to believe that I would ever commit such a crime, so I secretly arrange for a DNA test—but the results prove that my DNA is a match with the culprit's. My blood runs cold. A wave of despair washes over me. Once Natalie sees the results, she brings the victims to the house. They charge at me, smashing glass bottles against my head and breaking my legs with bats. When my parents rush over and see this, they faint on the spot. I end up dying on the operating table. Suddenly, my eyes open again. I've been reborn. I've returned to the day the crimes took place.

For five years, I was Carlos’s dirty little secret. In the light of day, I was his executive assistant, handling his legitimate businesses while he treated me with cold, professional detachment. In the shadows, I was the woman he claimed to love more than life itself, the one who warmed his bed while he whispered promises against my skin. That was until I found out I was pregnant. I was ready to tell him, to finally ask for a life in the light. But then, I discovered Carlos had purchased a secluded estate in the suburbs—a fortress meant for a wife. I followed him there, heart in my throat, only to watch through the window as his hand slid beneath a woman’s silk lingerie, his eyes burning with a raw desire I thought belonged only to me. "Sophie," he groaned, his voice rough with emotion. "I stayed unmarried all these years for one reason. I was waiting for you to come back to the States. Marry me." The sounds of their pleasure echoed from the room. The shock was a physical blow; my body revolted, and the stress induced a miscarriage right there in the cold. When I woke up in the hospital, empty and broken, I made a call I had been avoiding for years. I accepted the arranged marriage my family had set up for me—a political alliance with a rival syndicate. The next morning,I would vanish from Carlos’s life forever.

When finding evidence is by the skin of one's teeth, what price are you willing to lay to find the culprit?~~~She was just a typical girl from a not so typical family, who will seek justice after her loved ones' death. She was the only survivor in that death trap or at least that was what she knew. Their death wasn't just a mere tragedy, it was intentional. The purpose was to eradicate her clan, but they failed when she survived.When her only reason for living was taken away from her... What was left in her being were: hatred, anger and the burning fire to have her revenge, but it was hard to find since no obtainable evidence could uncover the culprit behind the terrible scheme.When her boss, turned lover, started to show affection, a beam of light was flashed in her being. The newly found solitude with him gradually replaced her negative feelings. But as another guy entered into the picture and claimed her to be his, it drifted her back to her intentions which led her to unravel some secrets she never thought existed. Join me as I lay pieces of information about the Culprit's real identity.

Sofia D’Moreno thought her life ended when she was sold to Lucas Valentine—the ruthless king of the Canadian underworld. Locked away in a luxurious mountain mansion amidst the frozen wilderness of Quebec, she soon realizes her capture wasn't just about a debt. ​Sofia is the "Living Key" to a lethal bio-weapon, the Black Dragon, hidden by her ancestors. As a toxic and forbidden passion ignites between captor and captive, Sofia discovers that every touch from Lucas is a gamble between life and death. ​With a 12-hour poison countdown in her veins and a blood feud demanding a sacrifice, Sofia must navigate a maze of family betrayals. When the secrets of the Moreno Vault are finally bared, will their love survive the explosion, or will they become mere ashes in the snow?

At the Halloween Carnival, my younger brother and I got separated. Not long after, the headless body of a teenage boy was found in an alley. My father was consumed with rage—he blamed me entirely. He locked me in the chapel and forced me to chant prayers and light candles for my brother's soul for eighty-one days and nights. After that, he had me sold to a brothel in the city's red-light district, so I could spend the rest of my life atoning for my brother. He instructed the brothel manager there to give me only the most depraved clients—and to make sure I was left barely breathing. The brothel manager, paid to follow orders, assigned me to women with twisted tastes. Night after night, I was tormented. When I came down with consumption, I was denied any care. The hands I'd once used to turn pages—the hands of a scholar—were deliberately broken, crushing whatever hope I had left for the future. Eventually, one client went too far, and I died on the bed. The brothel manager had my body rolled up in a straw mat and dumped in a mass grave outside town. A year later, on New Year's Eve, my brother came back.