Like Wind On A Dry Branch Novel

I waited for my boyfriend for three hours at his birthday party. Sean Ziegler was supposed to show up dressed as the star of night. However, his secret lover, Josie Sullivan, called him to the hospital. She had pretended to sprain her ankle. There, she recorded a video of her and Sean kissing. In the heat of the moment, Sean stood up and pushed her against the door. But he was supposed to be paralyzed. “Sean, why haven’t you told Wendy that your legs are fine now?” “If she knows, she’ll pressure me to marry her. Seriously, who does she think she is? Wendy’s just a free maid. She’s not good enough to be my wife,” Sean said in a muffled voice. After that, he continued to kiss Josie intensely. Wearing the wedding dress I had designed, Josie looked provocatively into the camera. The video then ended with the sounds of them kissing. It turned out that Sean had been lying to me all along. I threw the cake that I made for him into the trash. Then, I texted my mom. [Mom, I’ll go on that blind date.]

Imagine my shock when I found out that my husband, a professor who had proudly embraced a childless life for half of his years, had an affair with one of his own students. She even had his six-year-old son. The day I planned to report him to the university, Zia Thompson came to my door with the child and knelt in front of me. "Maybe you and Zeke were in love once," she said. "But he's over forty now. Who doesn't want to have a child? A legacy?" "I don't need a title," she went on. "I can give up the child too. I just beg you, don't tear our family apart." I looked at my husband, who stood protectively in front of them. I felt terrifyingly calm. "Cut ties with them," I said, my voice flat, "or prepare to be reported to the university. You choose." Without a moment's hesitation, he tore the report letter into shreds. I thought that was his answer. But on the fifty-second night of a bed grown cold and a home echoing with silence, he still hadn't returned. Instead, I received news that Zia was pregnant again. She had graduated by then. The report I never sent no longer posed any threat to them. Zeke didn't bother to hide his fatigue and irritation anymore. "Treat Zia and the kids well," he said, "or keep living alone in that empty house. It's your choice." My heart was already a wasteland. "I have one more option," I said. "I choose divorce."

I’m done with men! Not because I hate them, but because everyone I meet, and is just fine enough to pique my interest, I compare to him. And it ends right there and then. The ridiculous thing is that my love interest isn’t real. He is a figure that hunts my nights and brings pleasure into the few seconds that I’m captured by my sleep paralysis. I know that, and I am totally okay with it. Just as I start a new job, and my life seems to take a better turn, determined to forget the man from the shadows, I find my forbidden pleasure standing right in front of me. Suddenly my dream man wears a tailored suit and frowns at me. He is my boss. And he is very real.

She is meant to forget the past, but she received a new job from her past fiancee a hundred years ago. Not knowing the real, she accepted the job. Your ex-fiancee asked you to kill his brother. But what if you met your hybrid mate and he was your fiance’s brother? Grab your popcorn! Read more about Lucy, Leon, and Cedric’s love triangle.

Every Thanksgiving, my husband, Salvatore, brings home a showgirl from one of his clubs. He makes me kneel and serve them drinks. A lesson, he calls it, in how to please a man. This was the eighth Thanksgiving, and this time, he brought back a girl poured into a tight leather dress. "She doesn't have any decent jewelry," Salvatore announced. "Give her your heirloom diamond ring. Your grandmother's pearl earrings, too. And take off that silk choker for her." He smirked. "And listen, she's young, doesn't know the rules. You'll have to show her the ropes. Especially how to handle a man in bed." Every member of the Genovese family was watching, waiting for my humiliation. I didn't disappoint. I opened my mouth and asked Salvatore for a divorce. Salvatore let out a sharp, ugly laugh, his eyes full of contempt. "Francesca, you pull this same shit every time," he jeered. "Your act is pathetic. Even more dramatic than your performance in bed." He leaned in. "You really want to divorce me? Fine. I'll give you five million in cash if you actually walk out that door." The living room erupted in laughter. They all said I was playing hard to get, that I didn't know my place. But they didn't know. This was the 88th time I had asked for a divorce, and it was the first time I truly meant it.

What if you were held captive by your own family? Emma Rawlins has spent the last year a prisoner. The months following her mother's death dragged her father into a paranoid spiral of conspiracy theories and doomsday premonitions. Obsessing him, controlling him, they now whisper the end days are finally at hand. And he doesn’t intend to face them alone. Emma finds herself drugged and dragged to a secluded cabin, the last refuge from a society supposedly due to collapse. Their cabin a snowbound fortress, her every move controlled, but even that isn't enough to weather the end of the world. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing Everything she knows is out of reach, lost beyond a haze of white. There is no choice but to play her father's game while she plans her escape. But there is a force far colder than the freezing drifts. Ancient, ravenous, it knows no mercy. And it's already had a taste...