Yao Ming Rings

Matthew Hunt and Ambrose Donovan. Two millionaires, married, but not in love. Both in their mid-thirties and single, it's either they marry each other or their families would set up an arranged marriage with a stranger so the two decided to get married. They were best friends since they came out of their mothers' wombs so they were each other's next best choice. It worked. Their parents stopped hounding them. They lived in the same house, same room, do everything a married coupled would do (except sex), especially around other people, that is until their parents wanted grandchildren.

Sammy Hoffman learns the smallest step in the right direction ends up being the biggest step of her life… a girl who was running from her past but still whole heartedly believes in kismet waiting for her man. Embracing the night two lovers’ searches for the missing part of their separated hearts…Kismet…rings of truth.

In a haunting piece of paranormal fiction, after the ancient forces of light and darkness harness their powers into eight separate rings, humanity itself becomes its only hope. However, things go horribly wrong when jealousy, family, love and secrets cloud the sane judgement of the ring bearers. Will humanity be able to save itself, or will our fate be to fall into the hands... of Kayos?

For the 23rd time, I'm left standing at the altar as Jace Larkin hurries off because his foster sister, Celine Keaton, threatens to end her life again. The guests mock me, saying that we'll never tie the knot and attending our wedding will bring bad luck. I tune them out, holding on to Jace's promise that he'll come back and marry me. I buy his promise yet again, only for him to prove me wrong one more time. After I clean up the mess and pacify the angry guests, I reach home in the middle of the night. While passing the study, I hear Jace's voice. "Cece's always been mentally unstable. Of course, I have to stay with her. Regina will never leave me, even if I postpone our wedding a hundred times." Sorry, Jace, but I'll have to disappoint you this time. Blinking back tears, I unlock my phone and text my childhood friend, Clement Halloway. "Let's get married in three days."

My mom is an HR professional. She uses KPI to determine my entire life. "If you get into the top ten of your grade, you'll receive a B grade as well as a bonus of 500 dollars. If you can achieve a ranking at a state-level competition, you'll receive an A grade as well as a bonus of 1,000 dollars. Of course, if you can get into a top-tier university after scoring well in your SATs, I'll give you an S+ grade as well as a year-end bonus of ten thousand dollars!" I work my ass off in my studies and manage to earn the offer letter to a top-tier university. But that's when my mom puts a contract in front of me. "Congratulations on getting hired. From today onward, your allowances will be determined by the total of your base salary, KPI, as well as your full attendance award. "Your base salary is 500 dollars. It's to make sure that you won't starve to death, at the very least. In order to help you adapt to workplace stress in advance, I'll check on your progress randomly. If you don't meet my requirements, I'll deduct your salary." When I'm down with a fever of 104 degrees Fahrenheit, my mom deducts my full attendance award, claiming that my physical attributes aren't up to par. In order to catch up on my studies, I've completely forgotten to submit my weekly report to my mom. Because of that, she suspends my allowances. So, I have to sell my blood to a hospital behind her back just so I can survive. At the end of the school term, I show my mom my grades as well as the certificate to my scholarship, thinking that I'll be eligible for the highest KPI and the bonus. But that's when my mom tells me coldly, "The company has decided to give your S+ bonus to your younger brother as a form of investment. After all, he has more potential to achieve better results compared to you." As I gaze down at the 200-dollar consolation prize, I can't help but laugh. It turns out that I'm not even worthy of being recognized as a good employee in my mom's company.

My mom has been brainwashing me with her "quid pro quo" rule. Apparently, I must work hard in earning money just to get whatever I want. A round of doing the dishes earns me 50 cents. Mopping the floor once grants me one dollar. If I get a full score in my exams, that'll be five dollars. In order to buy a pair of white sneakers that I had had my eye on for a long time, I spent three months picking up trash from the streets. I lived like a maid who was paid on one-time services in this home. When I was a high school senior, I fainted during my homeroom period due to long periods of malnutrition. Even though my doctor suggested to my mom to pay attention to my nutrient intake, she began calculating the costs in front of my sick bed instead. "Your hospitalization costs 300 dollars. On top of that, you have a 200-dollar medical bill to settle. All of these costs will be reflected on your wedding gifts in the future, Emily." But when I turned my head, I saw a student sitting on the bed being fed chicken noodle soup by her own mother. Said mother was so heartbroken by her daughter's illness that she kept shedding tears as well. At that moment, my outlook on the world, that I had been maintaining for 18 long years, finally crumbled into dust. It turned out that not all children needed to work hard just to feel their parents' love. After getting discharged from the hospital and returning home, I finally sobered up the moment I noticed the sneakers that my younger brother, Arnold Baird, wore that cost several thousands of dollars. Then, I tore the family portrait into pieces and didn't hesitate to fill in the university that was located the furthest from home when it was time for me to submit my post-graduation details. Ten years later, my mom calls me on the phone. She starts crying to me how Arnold has swindled her out of her pension. Apparently, he's even sold the house just so he can elope with his girlfriend. Not only is my mom alone now, but she doesn't have a place to stay as well. I just smile as I throw her a piece of rag. "You want to live with me, huh? No problem. You'll earn 50 cents for every window you wipe. You can earn your rent like this."