Who Wrote 'I Was The Man The Celestial Quern'?

New York’s youngest bestselling author at just 19, India Seethal has taken the literary world by storm. Now 26, with countless awards and a spot among the highest-paid writers on top storytelling platforms, it seems like she has it all. But behind the fame and fierce heroines she pens, lies a woman too shy to chase her own happy ending. She writes steamy, swoon-worthy romances but has never lived one. She crafts perfect, flowing conversations for her characters but stumbles awkwardly through her own. She creates bold women who fight for what they want yet she’s never had the courage to do the same. Until she met him. One wild night. One reckless choice. In the backseat of a stranger’s car, India lets go for the first time in her life. Roman Alkali is danger wrapped in desire. He’s her undoing. The man determined to tear down her walls and awaken the fire she's buried for years. Her mind says stay away. Her body? It craves him. Now, India is caught between the rules she’s always lived by and the temptation of a man who makes her want to rewrite her story. She finds herself being drawn to him like a moth to a flame and fate manages to make them cross paths again. Will she follow her heart or let fear keep writing her life’s script?

At the dinner celebrating our fifth wedding anniversary, I held the pregnancy test report in my pocket, planning to surprise my CEO husband. However, the moment the doors opened, I froze. A stunning woman stood there with her arm intimately linked through my husband's. She clung to Charles Lawrence with the ease and confidence of someone who clearly belonged at his side, carrying herself like the lady of the house. Neither Charles nor the guests found it strange. If anything, they seemed entertained. Someone even joked, "Mr. Lawrence and Ms. Cooper aren't just ideal partners at work. Their chemistry is something to admire as well. I've personally reserved the presidential suite at Jubilee City's finest resort for Mr. Lawrence tonight. You can be sure no one will disturb you." Fiona blushed and slipped shyly into Charles's arms. He lowered his head and kissed her hard. They fit together so naturally, so intimately, that the sight was unbearably glaring. My thoughts flashed back to the night before, when Charles had pressed me into the bed. In that moment, I had caught sight of a strange message sent by someone named Fiona: [Everyone in the company thinks we've slept together.] Charles had explained that Fiona was only his assistant, a forty-year-old woman, and that the message was nothing more than a punishment from a lost game, a foolish dare. That explanation had dissolved my suspicion and anger. Then, I finally saw the truth. I was the one who had lost everything. Inside my pocket, the pregnancy report was crushed into a tight ball. I forced the tears back, stepped away, and opened the invitation from the National Aerospace Research Institute on my phone. Without hesitation, I tapped Accept. Three days later, I would vanish completely from Charles's world.

Empty vessels make the most noise, and men who fit that description to a tee hardly make for suitable partners. When Corinne had to go on a blind date with someone like that, she did the unthinkable simply to show her disinterest in him—she kissed a handsome older man whom she had never met before. "I hereby pledge myself to you," the older man vowed. If a single kiss from her was all it took for him to devote himself to her, would a second kiss entail much more? There was only one way for Corinne to find out…

Sera Quinn had one job. Marry a dying man, keep her head down, and wait. Nobody told her that Damien Voss did not die on anyone's schedule but his own. She was twenty two years old when her stepfather sat her down at the kitchen table and explained her options. Her mother was sick. The bills were swallowing everything. And the most powerful billionaire in the country was lying unconscious in a private hospital ward with his family desperate enough to pay a small fortune to any woman willing to stand beside him at the altar. All Sera had to do was say yes. She said yes. She had no other word left. She moved into his mansion and tried to be invisible. She talked to him in the dark of his room every night because there was nobody else and because she was sure he could not hear her. She told him things she had never told anyone. She told him she was scared. She told him she was pregnant. Then she overheard four words that changed everything and she ran before the sun came up. Four years later she had rebuilt herself from nothing. A career. A spine. Twin children with their father's eyes. A case file she had been building alone, one quiet hour at a time, that connected a road barrier report to a name that would put people in prison. She had one rule. Stay away from Damien Voss. Then her four year old daughter hacked into his private server and left him a message. Damien was already in his car before Sera found out what her daughter had done. He was not coming to talk. And Sera Quinn was finally done running.

On the day of our wedding, Henry Zander, my fiance, gets his legs broken in a car crash in his attempt of playing the knight in shining armor who intends to rescue the damsel in distress. So, I terminate our wedding on the spot. Both families surround me, trying to convince me to prioritize the bigger picture. My future mother-in-law cries her heart out as she takes my hand. "Winona, Henry got crippled because of his acts of heroism! He's the real hero here! If you head over to the hospital and take good care of him from now on, we'll still be a family!" My mom hugs me as well, her voice lowered. "You're still pregnant with the Zanders' heir, Winona. Do you have the heart to deliver your baby to this world without a father in their life? Hurry up and apologize to the Zanders so that this incident can be water under the bridge!" My dad acts more impulsively by slapping me on the spot and calling me an insensitive bastard who humiliates the family. Regardless, I walk over to the emcee calmly and pick up the microphone. "I'll give the 880-thousand-dollar wedding gifts meant for Henry and me to the driver involved in this car accident."

Everyone thinks that I can only rely on my husband, Erico Vitale, to survive after I've lost my family's protection. So, when he wants to get a divorce, I can only agree to it. If he wants to remarry me, I'll accept his demands docilely. I'm the dog whom the Vitale family can beckon over and easily dismiss on a whim. But when I finally have had enough of this life, I dial the number that I've kept sealed away for a long time. That's when I hear Gian Lucenti tell me, "Nina, I'll marry you in ten days." Well, Erico, what will you do when I, the woman whom you've been treating as a pet this whole time, leave you once and for all?