30 Missed Calls Novels & Stories

After being dumped by her boyfriend of two years for the second time, Susan decided that she needed a rebound after three months. She meets a possessive hot guy in the club who calls himself Andrew Brown and refuses to leave her house after a one night stand. What happens if Susan finds out his real identity after falling for him as a homeless guy? His fake name didn’t even ring a bell, but was he for real or was he going to dump her just like her previous exes? Dig in to read the fascinating story of Susan Stack and Andrew Crown, the disguised CEO of Crown Investors, a Trillion Dollar multinational company in New York.

Just because his first love's younger brother accidentally fell into Shadow River, my Alpha mate, Ethan Horn, forced me, the only Spirit Soother of our pack, to go and rescue him. When I sank to the bottom of the river, I chose not to save him. When the man was pulled out of the river, the healer lamented, "If it were a few minutes earlier, Leo might have been saved. What a pity." Ethan's first love, Serafina Pike, had her wolf soul shut off and soon passed away because she missed her younger brother, Leo Pike. From that moment on, Ethan, who had once loved me, hated me to the core. Without giving me a chance to explain, he slit my throat with a silver blade and ruthlessly sealed my wolf soul. Later, he believed the heresy of the witch about soul sacrifice and nailed me and our young daughter in coffins before burying us alive by Shadow River as sacrifices to resurrect his beloved Serafina. In the end, the woman he deeply loved did not come back to life, and my daughter and I died with endless resentment. When I reopened my eyes, I had returned to the night when Ethan forced me to jump into the river to save Leo. I tied up the specially made rope and asked him for the last time, "Are you really sure that you can bear the consequences after I rescue him?"

We were on our way to celebrate our son’s birthday when we got into a car crash. When I woke up, I looked at my family gathered around my hospital bed and cracked a joke: “Sorry, but who are you guys?” I held back a smile, curious to see how they'd humor their "amnesiac" patient. Would my mother grab my hand in a panic? Would my husband look at me with worry? Would my son rush over, crying and calling me Mom? What I didn't expect was for them to freeze for a moment—and then, almost in unison, let out sighs of relief. My mother was the first to speak, her tone unmistakably lighter, as if a huge weight had been lifted. "If you don’t remember, it’s probably for the best. This is Lindsay—your sister, she’s my daughter. You were adopted." My husband then pointed at me and said to our son, "You should call her Aunt Wendy." Before the shock could even sink in, I watched the child I'd fought so hard to protect turn and throw himself into the arms of Lindsay. "Mom! I played outside all day. I missed you so much!" So that was the truth. My amnesia was exactly what they'd been hoping for. In that case, I didn't need this made-up life anymore.

The first time I saw Daniel, I did not think he would become the man who would change everything. It was a quiet evening, the kind where the sky looked tired and the wind carried the scent of rain. I had gone to the café only to escape my thoughts. Love and I had never been on good terms, and I had long decided that my heart was safer when it belonged only to me. Then he walked in. He wasn’t loud or dramatic. In fact, if you weren’t paying attention, you might have missed him completely. But there was something about the way he moved—calm, steady, like a man who understood the rhythm of life. When his eyes met mine, he smiled. Not the kind of smile men give when they want something from you. No. This one was different. It was warm, patient… almost like he already knew my story. I looked away quickly, pretending to read my phone, but my heart betrayed me. It beat faster, louder, as if it was whispering a secret I was not ready to hear. That night, I didn’t know his name. I didn’t know his voice. But somehow, in the quiet space between strangers, something had already begun. And before long, Daniel would teach me something I had spent years running from: What it truly means to love… and to be loved to the full.

They say money can't buy happiness. But it sure can buy revenge. Nyla gave everything to her billionaire husband Eric her fortune, her trust, her heart. He repaid her with betrayal, leaving her to die while he pampered his mistress with the blood meant to save her life. But death wasn't the end. Nyla wakes up one year in the past with a mission: bankrupt Eric in 30 days, divorce him, reclaim her empire, and marry his biggest rival Cameron just to watch him burn. Revenge should be simple. But as Nyla destroys Eric's world, she discovers the betrayal runs deeper than adultery. Someone orchestrated her death and they're not done yet. Just when she thinks she's rewritten her fate, an anonymous message arrives: "You died for a reason. And they're coming to finish what they started." Some second chances come with a price. Who's really pulling the strings?

Three years of contract marriage, and Silas has been the picture of icy restraint — buttoning his shirts all the way to the top. Knowing he doesn't love me, I decide to stop lying to myself. But just as I'm about to flee with the divorce papers, I stumble upon a forum called Mischief & Mayhem. The pinned post screams in red letters: "URGENT! I'm actually an incubus. I've spent three years pretending to be cold and celibate so I won't scare my wife. But she just asked for a divorce and I can't hide it anymore... HELP: How do I win her back in 30 days without revealing what I am?" In the attached photo, a black heart-tipped tail is shamefully coiled around a suit trouser leg, its tip hooked around a tie. That tie — I bolt upright in bed. That's the limited-edition tie I gave Silas. My iceberg husband is secretly a lovesick male incubus?

The night before our wedding anniversary party, my husband—Harvey Clarke—receives constant calls from his first love, Cassie Moss. He responds by holding me closer, and I ask, "Aren't you going to pick up? What if it's urgent?" He firmly shakes his head and says he has already moved on. But when he receives news of her at the party, he breaks down right there and then, oblivious to the room of staring guests. When he tries to leave, I stop him in a panic, but he turns to me with a pure look of disgust. "Cassie's dead. Happy now?" The words hit me like a lightning bolt.

She once called him her husband. Now, she calls him a devil. After catching her husband in his ex’s house one too many times, she walked away, pregnant, broken, and done. Four years later, fate laughs when she runs into him again more powerful, colder, and dangerously obsessed. He wants her back, but not for love. For revenge. For reasons buried beneath his arrogance and her silence. But as she fights the pull between hate and desire, she learns something terrifying. The devil she runs into might not be the same man she divorced. He’s darker, hungrier… and this time, he’s not letting her go.

Heiress to a major publishing Company, recently graduated from college Marianne Navruz starts her first job as a personal assistant to Pyotr Rozanov, or just Peter, as she calls her boss. Mary didn't expect to get rid of the bad first impression she had of her boss, but after a year of working together, she discovered a kind, interesting and competent man. Focused and honest, Peter has worked hard to land the position of Editor-in-Chief of Book Review at Navruz Publications, but all that is threatened when his visa application is denied. Pyotr seems completely helpless, but Mary, determined to risk everything, learns the most terrible truth: She wasn't about to let him go.

My wife forces my sister to accompany some men for drinks so she can help her first love get investments. My sister finds an opportunity to run but gets harassed by other drunken men. As she tries to break free, she has a heart attack, and she dies. I'm devastated as I handle her funeral alone. That's when my wife calls and snaps, "Tell your sister to apologize to Claude! Do you know how much trouble she's caused for him?" I don't know how much trouble he's in. All I know is that one must pay the price for the things they've done.