And Another Thing Novel Novels & Stories

Kael and I, Bella, grew up side by side in the Silverclaw Pack. We were bound by the unbreakable thread of fate. Just as we reached adulthood and dreamed of our future together, I was diagnosed with Wolf Soul Degeneration: a rare, incurable illness that would drain my life force completely in just one week. Our Marking Ceremony had been scheduled for exactly one month later. Kael, the rightful Alpha heir, was scheduled to depart for the three-year Northern Trials, the only path to earning his place as leader of our pack. Knowing he would abandon everything to stay with me, I made the unbearable choice to break his heart and drive him away. Three days after I staged my betrayal, he appeared before me, his arm wrapped around a soft-spoken she-wolf from the Blackstone Pack. I forced myself to stand tall and pretend nothing was wrong as he stared at me for a long, heavy moment. Then he pulled out an official pack decree and said, "Ella and I will be mated in three days. I want you to officiate the ceremony." Without another word, he turned and walked away with his new Luna-to-be I stared at the decree in my hands until my vision blurred. "I'm sorry. I hope you're happy forever."

Valerie is a Beta wolf who had everything going on well for her until she came home one night to find her parents brutally murdered. Her world turned upside down from that night. Her mate rejects her, and she is accused by the Pack's council of being responsible for the death of her parents. Because of that, she is demoted to the rank of an omega and subjected to daily torture. Two days to her 18th birthday, she is sold off to a vicious alpha Victor to be his breeder. There at Alpha Victor's Pack, her fate didn't become much better in any way as he derives pleasure from seeing Valerie in pain. But then, as tough as alpha Victor may be, the disruptive feeling of tenderness towards Valerie crept up on him and he finds himself falling for the demoted omega he so much despised. What happens when Valerie finds out that alpha Victor might have a hand in the death of her parents? Why did alpha Victor despise Valerie so much to the point of wanting her dead? How does she navigate the much planned route of revenge for the death of her parents?

At our engagement party, my sister said she saw my fiancee at the hospital for a prenatal checkup. Inga Lane looked at me nervously, then smiled and handed the test results to our parents. “I’m one month pregnant.” Both families were over the moon. I was the only one who could not smile. After everyone left, Inga said, “I’m sorry. I’m pregnant. I was drunk that night. The baby is Xion’s.” I clenched my fists and tried to stay calm. “Then, why did you come to the engagement today?” She leaned toward me and said, “Don’t worry. I’m not going to marry Xion. He has cancer. He doesn’t have much time left. “We grew up together. He’s the only child in his family. I just wanted to give him a child to carry on his family line.”

After transmigrating through three novels in a row, the hardest thing I ever suffer through is drinking iced long black. But when I open my eyes again, I somehow become the pathetic simp side character in a trashy romance novel. Just as I debate whether to file a complaint against the system, the trembling system hurriedly explains something to me. Although this is a trashy romance novel, it is also an unfinished abandoned novel. I ask, "So you're saying I decide how the story develops?" The system replied, "Yes. Everything is completely under your control." Satisfied, I lazily stretch and begin checking the original Jacob's background. He has a trillionaire father and a billionaire mother. On top of that, he has seven rich and beautiful older sisters. With such a ridiculously overpowered setup, how can he go around simping for a broke college girl with no money? What a complete waste!

"What the fuck—” I started. He looked up at me. His lips were wet, swollen. He licked them slowly, like he was savoring the taste. “Keep your hands where I left them,” he said. My jaw clenched. My knuckles went white against the bedsheets. I didn’t speak. I just watched him. He lowered his mouth again, slower this time. His tongue circled the tip, then slid down the side. I felt every second of it. Every inch. He paused halfway down and looked up at me again. “You like this too much.” My throat tightened. I didn’t answer. “Bet you’ve never let anyone make you beg.” *** Callum Kesington isn’t just a billionaire CEO. He doesn’t believe in love. He believes in control and power.But when his estranged brother resurfaces through a cryptic call, dragging him into a trail of files, threats, and old betrayals, everything he's built starts to crack. Remy Beckett, a rising star in the culinary world, is no strang to love but one man has him unraveled. A single dinner at Remy’s restaurant ignites an attraction that shakes Callum’s carefully guarded world. He’s never wanted a man before. Never craved the scrape of stubble against his skin or the heat of rough hands pinning him down. But Remy? He’s all Callum can think about. A shadowy attack leaves Remy bleeding in Callum’s arms, and suddenly, this isn’t about desire. It's about survival. Someone wants Remy dead, and Callum’s brother is at the center of it. Now, Callum must confront the ruthless empire he built, the family who betrayed him, and the truth he’s been denying.

After dating Asher Bennett for ten years, he finally proposes to me. He puts a blindfold on me, claiming that he wants to give me a surprise. But the moment I step into the room, I feel a bucket of cold water being splashed onto me. "When are you going to wake up from your fantasies, Claire Sutton? Why would I even marry you in the first place?" With trembling hands, I take off the blindfold, only to see Asher sitting on the couch while drinking some alcohol languidly. "See? I told you she'd come! Whoever's the loser of this bet, you'd better pay for the drinks!" Upon noticing my silence, Asher says mockingly, "Hey, Claire! You're not getting any younger, you know! So, you might as well just marry some random dude at this point to avoid growing old all by your lonesome!" The moment his words fall, his friends all laugh at me while looking at me in disdain. But when I follow Asher's instructions and marry another man, why is it that he regrets letting me go?

Five years after our son was born, I finally faced the truth: my wife didn't love me—or our boy. Determined to end this miserable marriage, I made plans to leave and take our son with me. But fate had other ideas. A car accident cost me a kidney and took our son's eye. At my lowest point, my usually distant wife fell to her knees right in the hospital corridor, begging for forgiveness. She swore she would spend the rest of her life taking care of us. We decided to give her one last chance—a 100-day trial. If she made it, we'd stay together. But on the ninety-ninth day, my son and I overheard her talking to the attending physician. "Emma," the doctor said, "did you really arrange that accident to secure organs for Daniel Carter's son? You did that to take a kidney from your husband and an eye from your son—was it worth it?" Emma Evans's voice was eerily calm. "It was worth it. As long as Daniel is happy, I'd do anything." "And what if your husband and son find out?" She fell silent for a moment, then instinctively touched the wedding ring on her hand. "Then they'll never know. They just want a family; I'll do everything I can to make up for it." So the "changed woman" we thought we knew was just an act—a carefully built lie. The happiness my son and I had begun to believe in was nothing more than a story she'd crafted to protect the person she really loved. Every kindness, every effort—it had all been quietly weighed and paid for in advance.

On my fifth year anniversary, my wife, Rachel Sutton, announces her pregnancy on her social media feed. "After going through artificial insemination for the 39th time, I finally got pregnant with your child as I wished." The accompanying photo features Rachel lacing fingers tightly with her first love, Damon Calloway. I leave a like on the photo calmly. Then, I give them my blessings. The next thing I know, Rachel calls me on the phone. She roars at me furiously, "Damon is diagnosed with cancer! What's wrong with me bearing a child for him? Garrett Whitaker, you're being too much right now!" I reply coolly, "Then come back and file for a divorce. Once the divorce is through, you can go ahead and find yourself a husband who won't 'become too much.'"

Ever since my wife, Allison Strong, gives birth to our son, Noel Russell, she becomes unable to speak. The doctors say it is likely a psychological issue. For three whole years, she does not say a single word to me. Even when there's a gas leak in the house, she simply waits for me to discover it myself. When Noel cries from hunger, she never tries to comfort him. After my company goes bankrupt, I don't even have time to grieve. I spend my days delivering packages to support the family while taking my wife to see psychologists and specialists. One day, I am dead tired after working from morning until night. As I back my car into the garage, I fail to notice that Allison has left three-year-old Noel to play behind the vehicle. The moment I feel the car roll over something, my gut tells me something is very wrong. Noel's cries last only a few moments before he falls silent. My legs nearly give out beneath me. Forcing myself to stay upright, I scoop up Noel and rush him to the hospital with my hands trembling uncontrollably. Meanwhile, Allison stands silently somewhere to the side. Just like always, she says nothing. Her expression remains absolutely unfazed. Though she is the one who has given birth to Noel, everything seems completely unrelated to her. I have a mental breakdown. Grabbing her by the shoulders, I shake her desperately and yell, "You saw what was happening, why didn't you warn me? Why did you let him play there? What kind of psychological problem do you have that you can just stand by and watch your own son die? "Are you trying to destroy me, Allison?" I scream hysterically, but she still does not open her mouth or make a sound. Despair engulfs me. Three years of complete silence from her crushes me. Just when I am about to give up, Allison pushes through the crowd and softly speaks her first words in three years. They are quiet, but I hear them clearly. "Clarence..." Clarence Welch is the name of her first love. Only then do I realize that her psychological issue is with Noel and me.

Awakening to a bewildering and astonishing reality, Seraphina found herself in an extraordinary situation: she had transmigrated into her own novel, stepping into the shoes of a character she had meticulously crafted. The male lead in her story was notoriously elusive, challenging to approach, and the master of a harem. Seraphina, now Zephyrine Everlynn, unexpectedly found herself among the women in his harem. It was utterly absurd! Promptly leaving the harem, Seraphina used her knowledge to help others win the male lead's heart, all for the right price. But why did the male lead continuously find his way back to her?