How Does The Tortoise And The Hare End?

In the tenth year of my marriage to a genius pianist, I came down with a strange illness. A month ago, my husband missed my birthday party to care for his ailing sister-in-law. Night after night, I had waited for him to return home. But that night I forgot to wait at all and went to bed early. Half a month ago, he attended an important performance with his sister-in-law. I had always been petty and prone to jealousy, yet this time I didn't get angry. I simply went home in silence. Three days ago, I fell seriously ill with a burning fever. My husband rushed back from out of town in a panic—but only to tend to his sister-in-law, whose hand had been scalded. When we ran into each other at the hospital, I was strangely calm. I, who used to be fiercely jealous, felt nothing at all. I forgot the promise we had made to grow old together. I even forgot how he once fretted over me for days when I'd scraped a bit of skin. It wasn't until he said he wanted to bring his sister-in-law home and take care of her for the rest of his life that I—my memories riddled with holes—summoned the system at last. "I want to go home."

After five years of marrying into the Loween City in place of my sister, the Gambling King finally passed away. My son and my ex-husband—at long last—gave me permission to fake my death and return to them. But they laid down three conditions. First: kneel before Vivian Gray, apologize for framing her all those years ago, and surrender my place as Mrs. Hartwell. Second: work as a live-in maid for my own son for five years, and never show up at his school in my former identity as the reigning queen of the nightlife scene—lest I embarrass him. Third: drink an abortifacient to destroy my fertility forever, as recompense for the infertility I once caused Vivian. "My lady, you've endured five whole years just to earn your freedom—how dare they humiliate you like this?" My maid's eyes were red, burning with indignation on my behalf. But I just tipped my head back and swallowed the death-faking pill, letting the servants toss my "corpse" into the overgrown brambles beyond the city limits. Then, from the mud and weeds, I crawled back to the Hartwell mansion—one knee at a time. Day one, I knelt as ordered and signed over custody of my son without a fight. Day three, I locked myself in the storage closet and stopped showing up at school to pick my son up like I used to. I also stopped pestering him to call me "Mom." Even when Vivian—knowing full well I'm terrified of the dark—deliberately trapped me in the basement, I bore it in silence. By the time my ex-husband Nathan Hartwell saw me again, I was barely hanging on. For the first time, a flicker of panic crossed his face as he carried me out of that basement. But my son just sneered. "It's just another stunt to win our sympathy." When he caught the tears welling in Vivian's eyes, Nathan coldly dropped me to the ground. "Always scheming against Vivian with your dirty tricks—aren't you tired of it?" Right then, the system chimed in my ear: [Please proceed to the "disposable ex-wife death node" to complete the story line and return to your original world.] I let out a quiet laugh. "Not tired at all." And with that, I turned and dove straight into the swimming pool beside me.

Growing up in a broken home and opposite a married couple who did nothing but fight, Diana Young swore off marriage and everything to do with it. People say that love ends when marriage starts and since marriage is love's destination, it was kind of ironic. But Diana believed it was all the bit true.Everyone's disappointed at the pot of gold that is not found at the end of the rainbow. Love was like that, she thought. A disappointment. Perhaps she just needed the right person to show her the real pot of gold. What is really found at the end of love, because maybe, just maybe, love doesn't end at all.

A tale of two souls, intertwined by fate: One soul, cloaked with isolation and grief, was a solitary figure who struggles to connect with others. The other soul has a heart hardened against the possibility of love. Florence “Flo” Emry, now twenty-one, has retreated into a life of solitude following a traumatic car accident that occurred when she was sixteen. It changed her life forever. The accident left her completely deaf in one ear and partially deaf in the other as she needs hearing aid for it. She was devastated when she found out that she became disabled, but she was more broken when she also found out that she had tragically lost her parents and older brother in only one night. Feeling abandoned and worthless, Florence, who was filled with debt from her student loan, has become deeply disappointed and resentful towards herself, seeing herself as a useless human being. One fateful day, a chance encounter with a mysterious man named Zacchaeus “Chaos” Spencer Battenkurt the filthy rich billionaire playboy, 26 years old, turned her life upside down. This charismatic, very polite and respectful man, seemingly ordinary, was actually hiding a deep dark secret. These two souls, so different yet intertwined by fate, must navigate their own internal struggles while also confronting the challenges of their external world. But the question remains: Will they be able to break down their barriers and find solace in each other’s company or will their differences prove to be insurmountable obstacles?

The forest within the quiet village of Gashea is a dangerous place. Within the trees lies something dark, cursed, and wicked. For centuries, a demon with malevolent power terrorizes the villagers of the small valley home. He had brought droughts, disease, and famine. To ensure that he will keep his powers at bay, the village of Gashea offers a bride to the demon every night. And by dawn, without fail, they would see the corpse of the offered brides floating along their bright, shining river. With the next choosing fast approaching, the head villagers made a shocking decision. They had chosen Fyn. A man. When Fyn starts to slowly fall in love with the demon within the forest, secrets of the past unravel. The truth makes them wonder whether it’s the right monster Gashea fears.

Dad, I laughed quietly to myself. If you could see me now. You’d never think I’d ever be here. An actual werewolf sleeping at my feet? I’m really back in Jericho… Seems so silly, fighting you all these years and in the end here I am. Maybe you’d be happy. I don’t know. I like him... Elias. He seems like a great guy, maybe you'd like him too. Seriously, though, he's the alpha of your old pack. He seems dangerous and yet, he saved me. He seems to care about me, and maybe I'm silly for feeling it but I think I like him too. Six months ago Freya's father died, sending her to the bustling city of Jericho. Nearly kidnapped her first night and actually kidnapped her second she finds herself at the mercy of the mysterious Alpha Elias of the Hollow Moon Pack. Her attraction to him is hard to ignore but she wasn't born a werewolf. Her conflicting instincts to want to run and reject this pack are prevented why she finds out Elias has to be the one to reject her. Just seeing the way Elias looks at her, though, Freya can tell it will take some convincing to finally be free from him. Then again... does she want to be?