Anne Shirley Cuthbert Novels & Stories

At the dinner table, my mother-in-law slid a contract across to me, right in front of more than 20 relatives. "Just sign it," she said lightly. "Consider it a favor to me." I looked down. A home mortgage agreement for 150,000 dollars. Across from me, my husband's younger brother, Jim Canfield, watched with a grin. Beside him, my husband's eldest sister, Cindy Canfield, urged impatiently, saying, "Shirley, what are you waiting for? Just sign it." I said I needed to go home and talk it over with Howard Canfield first. My mother-in-law's expression darkened. "What? You can't even make this decision for your own marriage?" That night, I did not sign anything. Later, she sent a three-minute voice message in the family group chat, accusing me of being childish, ungrateful, and heartless. More than 70 replies followed—not a single one in my defense. A month later, I came home from work to find three men waiting at my door, there to seize the house. I pulled out my phone and checked the property registry. The record was clear. [Mortgaged. 150,000 dollars.]

I'd been married to Joshua Merck for five years, but we still didn't have kids. To stay healthy, I took those pricey custom vitamins he ordered from overseas—never missed a dose. Then my cousin came back from studying abroad, took one look at the bottle, and was like, "That brand doesn't even make custom vitamins." I sent them to the hospital for testing. The lab report hit me like a truck—birth control pills. Powerful ones. Suddenly, all those mornings with Joshua hovering over me, acting so concerned while I took my "vitamins," made sense. The whole thing had been a lie. Five years of lies. Just as I was gearing up to confront him, my phone buzzed—a group chat notification. Shirley Hoare had tagged Joshua. [Honey, I had a prenatal checkup today, and the doctor said I'm carrying twins! Your family's about to get two grandchildren at once—excited?] My heart turned to ash. Everything clicked. Fine. We were done. I pulled out my phone and replied to my childhood sweetheart's message from three days ago: [After watching the northern lights, I still wanted to see penguins in Antarctica.]

After I got a second chance at life, I stopped bringing lunch to my wife, who had become the factory manager. She would leave for meetings through the south gate, so I would sneak around through the north. In my previous life, I knew she only married me with an ulterior motive, but I still fell for her. I thought I could warm her heart over time. However, Shirley Scott was always just polite to me, nothing more. When I tried to get close, she would hand me a book and say, "Read more so people won't look down on you." Once, with a bit of liquid courage, I hugged her. Yet, she just stood there, stiff as a board, and said, "It's what married folks do." Years later, as I was dying, I read her memoir and learned about how she felt trapped in our marriage, like being stuck in the mud. She hoped she would never have to be with me again in another life. That hurt more than anything. However, then, I woke up and discovered that I was back to when there were whispers about her and the factory's technician. This time, I did not make a scene. I just asked for a divorce.

After the most wanted bachelor in Renowoods, Marvin Chambers, lost his memory, he began to pursue me relentlessly. I dated Marvin for three years and fell hopelessly in love with him. Just when I was about to tell him I was pregnant, I overheard a girl who used to bully me say to him, "Thanks for pretending to lose your memory and pulling 99 pranks on Serena just to avenge me. "Once you hit 100, I'll be your girlfriend." That was when I finally understood—Shirley Hunt was the one Marvin had always loved. And I was just the fool he used to make her laugh. Later, I died in a plane crash. Marvin lost his mind searching through the wreckage, only to find a single ring. Inside, it was engraved: [Hope You'll Love Me After 100 Pranks]. They say he collapsed crying in the debris and had to be rushed to the hospital after passing out. When he woke up, he turned against everyone who had helped him prank me. Meanwhile, I stood smiling in the snowstorm of Frontania, watching as my medical records went up in flames. He had faked amnesia to win my heart, so I faked my death to teach him a lesson.

Warning: This story is not suitable for young readers. It includes scenes of abuse, violence, self-harm, and sexual assault. If these topics are triggering for you, please skip this story. Reader discretion is strongly advised. Eumeriah Ferrer, a famous and talented actress in the country, is obedient and friendly. She grew up with love for people, very skilled in socializing. However, she never imagined that her kindness would be taken advantage of. She will meet Gabrielle Sanchez, who is the reason for all the turmoil she is experiencing. But Gabrielle is also her ally in discovering the true colors of the people she loved so much. Will Eumerriah truly get to know the real nature of people? Will she still believe in what they show or will she begin to doubt everything? Will she still believe in love after discovering that those she loved so much can betray her? Will Gabrielle be able to mend Eumerriah's wounded heart? Or will Eumerriah stand firm in what she knows is right?

'You will only be a good child if you are a good parent to your own child'  Miguel Ice Javier was a lovable man to his mother, but did he become a guardian for his child and family?  When they find the path again, will they give him a chance to figure out what is wrong and stand on what is right?  Aira Jen Villanueva is an independent woman who, at an early age, had her own business, but what would she do if the personality she had was far from known to her? So it affected her as a future mother.  How long will Michael be a good man and a son to his mother? He will be able to resist his love for his mighty Father. So he's able to fight Mr. Santiago's kind.  This is Bastard Billionaire,a novel written by Anne_belle

A year ago, my father died in battle with a Rogue. As compensation, Silverania's Alpha King, Lacus Kingston, promises that I can choose my own husband. I don't need to wait for the Moon Goddess to send him my way. In this lifetime, I don't pick Perry Cardell again. Instead, I go for his half-brother, Alaric Kingston. Lacus is surprised. After all, everyone in Silverania knows that Perry and I grew up together—we're practically childhood sweethearts. After he saved me from vultures at the age of six, I followed him everywhere he went. My biggest wish since childhood has been to marry him. I smile bitterly and recall my past life. After Perry and I got married, he refused to be intimate with me. I thought it was because he had an indescribable condition. I helped him cover the truth and even comforted him, telling him it wasn't an issue. However, everything changed when he was gravely injured. As I healed him, I discovered my cousin's name—Shirley Lamos—tattooed on his chest. Only then did I realize he wasn't frigid—he just didn't love me. If that is the case, since I've been given a second chance at life, I'll give them my blessings. But later, when I stand before the Moon Goddess in my wedding gown and with Alaric by my side, Perry suddenly descends into hysteria.

After being blackmailed by Mr. Stone to leave his son, Asher, Samantha vows to make a life for herself by becoming successful. Six years later, Asher pops back into her life and now the can of worms are out. Asher finds out about Melody, his secret daughter whom he had with Samantha six years ago. Asher must now face the truth about why the love of his life disappeared without a trace and is now named Kimberly Norman. Samantha must be bold to yet again face the notorious Mr. Stone, and the two lovers find a way to be together again despite all the plans of Mr. Stone. To what lengths with Mr. Stone go to? Will the two be able to protect each other in the end? Will they be given a second chance at love?

As soon as my neighbor, Shirley Lambert, walked past my house and peeked inside, her eyes lit up. "Mrs. Fisher, this place is huge. It has great lighting too. It'd make the perfect playroom for my son. "You live alone anyway. Just move into our living room. A two-bedroom apartment has more than enough space. "Since we're neighbors, I'll let you stay for free. No rent." I felt so irritated that I nearly gagged. She actually shoved past me into the house and started pointing around like she owned the place. "This crappy couch has to go. The living room would feel way bigger without it. "Oh, and the whole floor needs carpeting. That'd make it safe for my son when he runs around. "Also, why don't you have an air-conditioner? What if my precious boy gets a heat stroke? Could you even afford his medical bills?" She suddenly turned around and glared at me. "Mrs. Fisher, I'm talking to you. Are you deaf? Haven't you got any manners?" Anyone who didn't know better would've thought I was her servant and not her neighbor. I snorted. Clearly, she had no idea about my reputation as the neighborhood menace. "Well, I see you've got plenty of money, and I've got deep pockets. Why don't you hand all your cash over to me for keeping? "And if you like other people's houses so much, I'll write that for you in my letter to Santa this Christmas!"

Melissa Jones, the so-called 'fake' heiress, lost her memory trying to save me. Her memory was stuck at the time she was 18, back when our lives had not yet been set right. Everyone told me to be the bigger person. In the new family portrait, I was the only one missing. My biological mother tried to comfort me, "Shirley, be reasonable. It's just a photo. We will make it up to you later." I applied for the vice president position year after year, only to be rejected five times in a row. Then, when Melissa said she wanted to learn the business, my brother, Maverick Jones, approved it immediately. Afterward, he turned to me and said, "You should give way to Melissa. You're the reason she lost her memory. I'm helping you make up for it." When I went into labor and needed my husband, Charles Smith, to sign the consent for a C-section, he was one floor above me, accompanying Melissa to a follow-up appointment. I called him seven times. He declined every call. In the end, my seven-month-old baby suffocated. Even in a wheelchair, I went to demand an explanation. However, outside the hospital room, I heard Melissa crying. "Back then, you all agreed I should pretend to have amnesia. I'll never randomly decline calls for Charles again. I just want to stay by your side for three more months." There was a moment of silence. Then, Charles and the others agreed. At that moment, I was not angry. I just felt something inside me turn completely empty. I turned around and accepted my adoptive parents' request to return to Nebula City. This time, I would give these people what they wanted.