Who Wrote 'In Memory Of W.B. Yeats'?

Eight years ago, I broke the heart of the boy I loved. Now, after eight years overseas, Liam Hayes was finally coming home with his new girlfriend to meet his family. That same day, the hospital gave me its final answer. The cancer had won. There was nothing left to treat. Nothing left to try. They sent me home with only time. When Liam saw my mother helping me into a wheelchair, a cold smile touched his mouth. “Eight years,” he said. “And this is what became of you? You can’t even walk anymore?” Disgust laced every word. I only tugged the sleeve of my down coat lower, hiding the cluster of needle marks across the back of my hand. “It’s nothing,” I said quietly. “I fell and broke a bone. That’s all.” Liam gave a short, bitter laugh. “In that case, I’m getting married soon. Why don’t you come be my fiancée’s bridesmaid?” I smiled as if it did not hurt at all. “No, thank you. I’m about to leave for somewhere very far away.” Then I patted the back of Mom’s hand, silently asking her to take me home.

When I opened my eyes once more, Flora was holding me tightly. I had secretly loved her for a decade. Her warm lips kissed my neck, telling me not to leave. This time, I pushed her away and told the butler to send her to her first love's home. Her first love was Sean Graham. In my last life, Flora drank so much that she was drunk during the celebration organized for me to celebrate me for getting an overseas college's offer letter. After the celebration, I didn't refuse her when she wanted me to stay, and that wild night came to pass. The next morning, when Sean saw me coming out of Flora's bedroom, he pretended to be amiable and said he would make our wish come true despite the darkness in his eyes. Then, he disappeared for about one month. In the end, we found a blood-stained necktie in the mountains and the skeletal remains that had been feasted on by wild animals. Flora didn't sleep for an entire night as she held Sean's necktie in her hand. After that, it was like the discovery hadn't affected her at all, as she still passionately planned for my birthday trip. But that very night during the trip, I was abducted. I begged the kidnappers to beg Flora to pay the ransom, but I heard her personally give the orders. "Don't let him die too easily. He's just some scum of the earth. Do whatever you want with him. When you're done, dump him in the Northern Barrens and clean things up. He owes Sean this much!" Flora, I'm done playing by your rules this time around.

The day we were meant to be mated, my Alpha, Ford, was ambushed. Silver bullets shredded his car, sending it plunging off a bridge and into the river below. He was pronounced dead. Drowned. I was left pregnant with his heir, shattered by the raw agony of our severed mate bond. Then Ford's twin, Aiden, returned from abroad with his mate, Kyra. His identical face and a scent so similar to my mate's nearly drove me mad. A desperate part of me swore Ford was still alive. I told myself it was just grief. A widow's delusion. Until I overheard a hushed conversation and the horrifying truth slammed into me: the man pretending to be Aiden was Ford. He had faked his death. He'd let his own brother die in his place, all for Kyra—the other woman carrying his child. The grief that had crippled me instantly morphed into a cold, sharp rage. Ford didn't just break our bond; he shattered it. And I would make him pay. I wiped my tears and sent a single message to my brother, Billy, the Alpha of the Winterstone Pack. "Brother, I need a plane crash. He loves faking his death? Fine. Let him feel what it's like to truly lose a mate." Only when the news of my "death" spread did Ford reclaim his name. He knelt for seven days and nights in the ashes of the home we once shared, consumed by a grief of his own making.

The tale of a widow's harrowing journey through grief and peril into the cold remnants of a dead world. Damon Sharpe had in part found victory, he believed, in his battle to unearth a truth obscured by time. By autumn, he was dead, leaving to his wife Anne a house of unfulfilled wishes, remnants, and the key to the enigma of his obsession, the Mourner’s Cradle. A journey through grief and peril delivers Anne Sharpe from her home in St. Charles to the faraway skeletons of a long-dead civilization where she will find the desperate answers she seeks…or die trying. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

After Emily died, she encountered an entity called Death. Death's mission is to take Emily to her soul's destination but things took an unexpected turn. Will they find love with each other? Will they surpass all the challenges they will encounter? Learn how to love what you fear the most, with a romantic story that subverts all expectations and boundaries.

My cousin, Kaylee Langford, pushes me down the ski slope when there's an avalanche. My boyfriend, Atlas Ferguson, lifts her into his arms and leaves. He seems to have forgotten that I'm buried underneath the snow mountain. He leaves me stranded at the valley for seven days. He's furious when he finds me. "You should be glad nothing went wrong with Kaylee's arms. Otherwise, the only way you could atone would be to die on this mountain! Our wedding is canceled—we'll have it once you realize what you did wrong." He thinks I'll cry or kick up a fuss, but I merely nod and say, "Okay." He doesn't know that I've made a deal with the Moon Goddess. In six days, I'll be giving up the things that mean most to me—my love for Atlas and my memories of him. Once that happens, I'll forget everything about him and start afresh somewhere new. What does a wedding matter when the Ember Sloane who loved him is now dead?