Ruthless Imagination Short Stories & Marriage Novels

In my previous life, my husband, Lucien Walker, tells me he wants to take care of his widowed sister-in-law, Lina Morgan, and take her as his second wife. After I refuse, Lina throws herself off a cliff while pregnant, killing both herself and the pups. As the Wolf King, Lucien chains me on a clifftop and lets vultures tear at my flesh day after day. He gouges out my eyes and snarls, "You lied about your fertility to trick me, then drove Lina and her unborn pups to their deaths! This is your punishment!" My son, Pierce Walker, whom I pour my life into raising, stabs me 9,999 times. "If Lina were my mother, I would be strong. This is all your fault!" They never know that without my gift for bearing children, Lucien has no heir at all. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Lucien proposes taking Lina as his second wife.

The apocalypse has arrived. I carry multiple special abilities and am humanity's hope. However, my wife tears those powers out of me for the sake of her true love. I'm in unbearable pain. I beg her to stop, telling her I'll die. But she doesn't care at all. "Why are you so selfish? You have so many abilities and won't even give one to Ed. Stop being so dramatic. Why do you get to be the hero while my Ed stays an ordinary person?" What she doesn't know is that each special ability is like a heart—take it away, and the person dies.

Everyone in our neighborhood knew me as the meek full-time housewife. I had no income and no social life. Every hour of every day went to the kitchen, my child, and my hypercritical mother-in-law, Sofia Carter. Yet when I woke up, I had somehow swapped bodies with my insufferably smug husband, Kevin Carter. My phone lit up as he sent one mocking message after another: [Olivia, you act like having a baby entitles you to lie around at home all day, watch the kid, and throw together a couple of meals.] [For your information, this swap is permanent. I can finally get some rest.] [Don't run your mouth at my office. That management job is way beyond what a brain that never even made it through college can handle.] When I finished reading, I stared at the stubble-covered man in the bathroom mirror and burst into tearful laughter. He had no idea. My meekness and numbness had been bought with my health. From the day I married him, I never got more than five hours of sleep. At twenty-two, I suffered a severe hemorrhage during a difficult delivery. At twenty-four, I developed severe tendinitis. At twenty-six, after years of exhaustion and Sofia grinding me down, I was diagnosed with moderate depression. To him, I was never a wife. I was a live-in maid he didn't have to pay, someone he could take his temper out on whenever he pleased.