Feel-Good Story Short Stories & Bias Substitute Bride Novels

"Forget it, I'll marry him!" The moment Margot Johanson said those words, she suddenly felt a sense of relief. She could hear her parents' voices full of smiles in her ears. "Gigi, we’re glad you’ve made up your mind. Your fiancé may be in a coma, but he’s quite handsome.  “Although he’s been out for years, what if he wakes up? After all, he’s the one set to inherit the family business..." Her parents, trying to persuade their own daughter to marry a comatose man, actually thought she was getting the better deal.  They seemed convinced that no one else in the world would be foolish enough to take on such a situation.  Margot smiled bitterly. "Don’t worry. Since I’ve made up my mind to marry, I won’t back out. I won’t let your precious Maisie take my place."

Shawn Hansen, Wigston's most notorious playboy, always has a thing for dazzling women. This time, his eyes are set on Carrie Myers, my fiance Harvey Anderson's close friend. And now, he decides to marry her on the same day as my wedding. When I go to Harvey to discuss the wedding details, I walk in on him holding Carrie and promising, "Don't worry. I'll marry you. Our churches are side by side, and with your face hidden under the veil, I'll swap you in for her. No one will ever notice." Carrie sobbed, her voice filled with concern. "Angelina is clever. She will undoubtedly notice something is wrong." He kisses her forehead gently and comforts her, "I'll drug her so she won't be able to think straight or resist." Only then does she relax, yet she asks curiously, "You really don't mind letting her marry Shawn?" Harvey thinks seriously before replying, "I love you and must marry you first. Shawn is my good friend, so even if he marries her, he wouldn't touch her. I'll bring her back once he realizes the bride has been switched. By then, the two of you can serve me together." I can't bear to listen any longer, and I turn to leave with a broken heart. Despite the sorrow, I am determined to become Shawn's wife.

When vampires attack the border, my mate's childhood female friend and I both end up trapped in the camp. My mate, Damon Aldridge, shifts into his wolf form and rescues her without a second thought, leaving me alone to face the flames and vampire assault. The next day, I submit a request to the council of elders to sever our mate bond. Damon shows up with a stormy expression, demanding, "You have a priestess bloodline. You can heal yourself. Lydia's more fragile, so I rescued her first. Are you seriously jealous over this?" I meet his eyes calmly. "Yes, but none of that matters anymore."

At my own wedding, I find out the woman behind the veil isn't even the one I'm supposed to be marrying. Instead of getting mad, I give her the wedding of the century. It's all because of what happened in my past life. I'd exposed that she wasn't my bride in front of everyone and blew up the whole ceremony. That forced Jessie Clarke, who'd been at the hospital with her childhood sweetheart, Oliver Grant, to rush over reluctantly so we could still get married. Because of that, Oliver refused treatment and died on the operating table. When I heard he was gone, I told Jessie she should see him one last time, but she refused. All she said was, "Blame it on his bad luck." After we got married, we acted just as in love as before. I kept getting money from my family to save her company every time it was on the verge of collapse. But on the anniversary of Oliver's death, Jessie shoved me off the top floor of her company. I hit the ground hard enough to end up a broken, bloody mess. As I fell, I caught one last look at her face, streaked with tears. "If you hadn't forced me back to marry you, Oliver wouldn't have died! You get to keep me, but I lost him for good! Why do you get to live a happy life?" So that was it. She'd blamed me for Oliver's death from the start. She'd never loved me at all. The next time I opened my eyes, I was back at our wedding ceremony.

My cousin stole my fiancé's suppressant on the night of the full moon — just to test how much he loved her. Then she locked me in a room with him while he was out of his mind with pain. Watching Adrian writhe in agony, I wrapped my trembling arms around him and let him mark me. My cousin was devastated. She married the brutal Alpha of the neighboring pack in a fit of spite. When Adrian found out I was pregnant, he had no choice but to make me his Luna. But in five years of marriage, he never once came to see me or our son. After rogues kidnapped us, I thought he'd finally let us go. Instead, he shifted and fought to bring us back — only to die alongside those rogue wolves. I held his bloodied body and watched the light drain from his eyes. With his last breath, he gripped my hand: "Stop saving me! I regret everything… I never needed you to save me…" My heart shattered. Cold wind tore through the hollow in my chest until I couldn't stop shaking, and the world went dark. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on that full moon night — five years in the past.

At the coming-of-age ceremony my sister and I shared at twenty-one, our father produced two marriage contracts. One came from the ducal House of Beaumont. A century-old line with power beyond measure, whose heir Alexander was composed, wealthy, and the dream of every unmarried girl in Saint-Vérain. The other came from the bankrupt Moreau family. Their estate mortgaged, creditors at the door, their heir Elias had nothing but a handsome face. In my last life, my sister Vivienne chose Alexander first and left Elias to me. Later, she was caught in an affair, and the Beaumont family confined her for life under the name of "psychiatric rest." Elias, with my help, climbed from ruined nobility into City Hall and became the youngest chief secretary to the mayor. Vivienne didn't hate the in-laws who destroyed her, or the husband who was cold to her. She hated only that I lived better than she did. The day I visited her, she smashed my skull with a silver candlestick. When I opened my eyes again, we were back at the moment of choosing. Vivienne snatched the Moreau letter and said smugly, "Little sister, this time it's my turn to be the wife of the rising star of politics." I looked at her and smiled. She didn't know that in the last life, the one who had truly raised Elias to high office was never fate. And that Alexander, who had never touched her, had never been cold by nature. He had simply married the wrong woman.