A Year Without Summer

My childhood sweetheart who promised to marry me the moment I graduated proposed to Camille Willow, my sister, during my graduation ceremony. At that moment, Dennis Malcolm, the most eligible and admired bachelor in Blington City's elite circle, stepped forward and confessed his love for me immediately after my childhood sweetheart's proposal was accepted. For five years after our marriage, Dennis showered me with devotion, treating me with such tenderness that it felt as though I were the center of his world. But everything shattered the day I overheard a conversation between him and his close friend. "Dennis, now that Camille's on top, are you really going to keep pretending with Tracy?" "It doesn't matter. I'll never have Camille. Besides, as long as I'm here, she'll never disrupt Camille's happiness," he answered. The paper notes he held dear, each one carefully preserved, revealed a harsh truth. Each one carried her name, accompanied by heartfelt wishes: "May Camille be released from her burdens. May she find peace within herself." "May Camille achieve all she dreams of, and may her heart love freely." "Camille, we were never meant to be together in this life. I can only hope that in another, we will walk side by side." … Five years of devotion shattered in a single moment of clarity. I crafted a false identity and planned an elaborate drowning to vanish without a trace. From this day forward, in this life and all others, we shall never cross paths again.

Tony Gambino never forgave me. His childhood sweetheart died saving my life, and for seven years, his hatred was a constant, silent burn. I fasted. I prayed. I begged for absolution. He met my penance with a cold sneer. "I'll only forgive you when you're dead." The words were a knife to the heart. So why, when we were both poisoned, did he shove the only antidote down my throat? As the poison claimed him, blood trickling from his lips, he choked out his last words, "Scarlett... in our next life, let's never meet." Later, I tried to visit his grave. His sworn brother and Consigliere, Richard Bruno, blocked my path. He pressed a gun to my forehead. "I don't know how you have the nerve to show your face here, Scarlett. He'd be alive if he hadn't saved you. "I should never have let him give up Elma for you. You're a curse. Everyone who gets close to you gets destroyed." Their eyes were unanimous in their blame. And they were right. So I watched his gravesite from a distance, my own guilt a heavier stone than any marker. Not long after, I was killed in a gang crossfire. When I opened my eyes, I was seven years in the past. This time, I made a different choice: I let Tony go—so that everyone might live.

Everything comes crashing down as my eyes widen into his. Both of our breathing labored but his hands not releasing me. “Grace.” He says breathlessly. That name is all it takes to wake me up. ‘Grace’ I’m not Grace. He thinks I’m someone I’m not. I shouldn’t be doing this when he doesn’t even know who he’s with. I scramble off of him and stand in the middle of the room panting. I can see him start to fumble, standing up and walking towards me. I look up at him, my eyes wide. “I’m so sorry. We shouldn’t… We shouldn’t have done that.” I stammer out and he looks at me shocked. Walking towards me like I’m a trapped animal he’s scared is going to run away. “Why, Grace? Why shouldn’t we have done that? Please, just talk to me.” I can hear the pleading in his voice, the fear that I didn’t want him to kiss me, but that’s not it. I don’t know why. Why I’m so scared to just tell them the truth, so I decide to lie. “I’m sorry, Gunner. I like all three of you. I’m not going to choose, so I’ve just decided I wouldn’t be with any of you. It’s not fair to you guys.” I don’t wait for him to respond, I run out the door and down the steps, landing face first in Dean’s chest. He pulls me up and wraps my legs around his waist causing me to gasp. “Who said we’d make you choose, Bambi?” And before I can respond his lips are on mine.

"You also feel Lumira died an unjust death? Then let's see you change it." Rina Vale died screaming at a screen. Crushed by a truck after cursing an author for the pathetic end of her favorite villainess, Lumira Duskbane, she expected the void. Instead, she woke up behind Lumira’s eyes at the elite Aetherion Academy. But the sequel is deadlier than the original. Bound by a blood-contract with the Author, Rina must rewrite Lumira’s tragic fate or be erased. She is a "walking curse" in a den of monsters. Her fated ex, Alpha Jaxon, hunts her with predatory suspicion, desperate to prove she’s the source of the rot eating the university. Prince Kaelion, the vampire, watches her with a hunger that promises a beautiful destruction. Then there are the ones she’s already changed. Aurel Venticus, the genius White Mage, became obsessed after witnessing her wield a Reaper’s blade—a weapon no living soul should touch. Now, he stalks her mind, determined to unravel the secrets of the "new" Lumira. And Austin, the Moonshadow Elf Prince, remains her lethal shadow; despite the hell the original Lumira put him through, his loyalty has curdled into a terrifying, unbreakable obsession. As demonic shadows turn the campus into a slaughterhouse, the school demands a sacrifice. They want the villainess. The Blood Moon is rising... Rina has the spoilers and the dark magic, but in a world of obsessed predators, will surviving the story might be harder than writing it?

I want a divorce.” Andy blinked. “Divorce? You’re joking.” But Anna wasn’t smiling. “No, Andy. I’m done. I won’t share a roof with you and your mistress.” Andy scoffed. “Be serious, Anna. You can’t live without me. You need me.” Anna’s smile turned deadly. “Oh, you think so?” She stepped closer, her voice sharp as a dagger. “Watch me, dear husband. I can live without you.” *** She walked away with nothing—except her pride. When Anna Roberts discovers her husband has moved his mistress into their home, she makes the boldest decision of her life: divorce. With only her son and her dignity, she steps into an unfamiliar world determined to start over. Mocked for her weight, underestimated by everyone—including herself—Anna transforms her pain into power. She works, she fights, and she rebuilds. Soon, she’s no longer the woman Andy could belittle… she’s the woman he’ll never deserve again. But then there’s Gerald Smith. Her powerful, disciplined boss. The man who never mixes business with pleasure. Until Anna. What begins as temptation spirals into something dangerous—something forbidden. Gerald knows one wrong step could ruin them both, but walking away from Anna might destroy him more. Anna thought her divorce was the end of her story. But it was only the beginning.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

Everyone knows I'm Brooke River's bootlicker—I've stuck by her side for the past ten years. Now, she's getting engaged to someone else, and everyone's waiting to see me make a fool of myself. The problem is… I already got married three years ago.

My husband had a severe addiction for physical intimacy. However, in the seven years of our marriage, he never touched me, not even once. To suppress his urges, he soaked himself in bone-chilling ice water every night. His arms were covered in needle marks from constant injections. It broke my heart to see him like that. I offered myself to him many times, but he insisted on simply giving me a restrained kiss on the forehead before saying, “Don’t be silly, Summer. I’m not like those animals. How could I ever bear to hurt you? For you, I’d gladly live the rest of my life in a platonic marriage.” This strange, almost obsessive restraint of his lasted seven years. Despite the numerous times he pushed himself far enough to end up hospitalized, he still refused to cross that line. Then, on our wedding anniversary, a young woman named Anna Brandt came in for her ninth hymen restoration surgery. After the anesthetic was administered, her cheeks flushed red. As her mind grew hazy, she started crying weakly like a lost kitten. Looking at the love bites scattered across her body, I shook my head and assumed she was just another girl who had gone astray. That was until I heard her last tearful whisper. “John Shaw, you jerk.” My hand trembled and I nearly dropped the scalpel. Because my husband’s name also was John Shaw.

"Mommy, you have to be the first person to come pick me up, okay?" These are my daughter Dorothy Grant's final words to me when she walked me out of the house this morning. But when I stand at the kindergarten's entrance with a box of Dorothy's favorite strawberry shortcake in my hands, the security guard just stares at me as though I lost my mind. "Ma'am, this place might be where Sunflower Kindergarten is located, but it has already closed its doors for three years. This place is now a retirement home." I rush into the "kindergarten" instantly. The spot where the slide used to be is now replaced by a row of flowerbeds. The room that used to be the classroom now hosts a bunch of elderly people, who bask in the sunlight. With trembling hands, I call my husband, Chester Grant, on the phone. He sounds very exasperated and exhausted over the phone. "Honey, we've been married for five years, and we choose to be childless. You've never given birth before."

On the day Fiona Starr and Mark Zimmer tied the knot, his childhood friend jumped off the Starr family's thirty-story apartment and was reduced to pieces. The wedding wasn't called off, but in the ensuing three years, Mark's poker face became even more creepy, even though he would do everything Fiona asked. Then, when Fiona was three months pregnant, she was told that her father had gone missing. But instead of taking her to file a police report, Mark took her up the peak of the mountain, where Fiona saw her father. His whole body was swollen and bleeding everywhere, and he was barely alive as he lay on the ground. There were puddles of his blood everywhere, after someone tied him to a car trunk and dragged him up along the mountain road. That was when Mark gave Fiona the same treatment, even though she was pregnant with his child. As his car dragged her up and down the mountain, her legs were reduced to bloody stumps, but she didn't die there. So she locked her up in a basement in the company of rats that nibbled and devoured her legs. She despaired, her mind breaking until she eventually stopped breathing too… But she opened her eyes again and found herself returning to the day before she married Mark, whom everyone called the Starr family's live-in son-in-law. Smiling through her tears, she told herself that she wouldn't choose him again in this life.