Authors Like Elin Hilderbrand Novels & Stories

My Alpha husband and I were both liars. He lied to me a thousand times—said he would forget his ex, but he never did. Me? I only lied to him once. I tricked him into signing the Mating Dissolution Agreement. Today is my last day. Three hours left. I packed all my bags. Bought a ticket to Northbridge. Two hours left. I cut him out of every photo. The album only has me now. One hour left. I recorded a final video for him. "Damon… this is my tenth year loving you. And my first day leaving you."

She was never supposed to matter. The novel never gave her a name worth remembering. After dying in a mundane accident, twenty-three-year-old Clara Quinn opens her eyes inside the pages of the fantasy novel she despised most — reborn not as the heroine, not as the villainess, but as an unnamed background character fated to die before the story even begins. Her plan is simple: stay invisible. Attend the Imperial Academy of Asterveil, avoid every named character, and quietly survive a plot designed to destroy everyone foolish enough to interfere. That plan lasts exactly one day. During the entrance ceremony, Lady Morwen Ashvale — the infamous crimson-eyed prodigy that even crown princes fear — steps off her platform, walks past every noble heir waiting for her acknowledgment, and stops directly in front of Clara. "You belong to me," Morwen says, loud enough for every student in the hall to hear. "Do not forget it this time." This time. Clara has never met this woman in her life. Yet Morwen looks at her as though she has been searching for centuries. As shadows begin stalking Clara through the academy's cursed corridors — as the original story fractures and rewrites itself around her — Clara uncovers the truth that should be impossible: Morwen has lived this story hundreds of times. She has watched Clara die in every single one. And in every timeline where Clara falls, Morwen burns the kingdom to ash. She is not obsessed. She is grieving. She has always been grieving. And this time, she refuses to lose again.

Three years ago, I fled my old pack and hid among humans at Westridge University. As graduation approached, Damian Blackwood—the man I had secretly loved for three years—suddenly confessed his feelings to me. He told me he was a wolf. He promised that as soon as we graduated, he would take me back to his pack and make me the most honored Luna. I was overjoyed. We spent the entire night together, wild and desperate. The next day, Damian pulled me into his arms in front of everyone and announced that we were together. I sat on his lap, blushing, certain that I was the luckiest woman alive. I was ready to tell them my true identity. But then they suddenly switched to the Old Tongue. "How did the bookworm taste?" Damian answered casually. "She acts innocent on the surface, but in bed? An absolute whore." Laughter erupted around us. "So are you actually going to mark a… human?" Damian frowned. "No. My size—no wolf woman could take me. I was worried that Juliette, being human herself, might think I'm too rough. So I used Aurora for practice." "Don't let Juliette know that Aurora and I slept together. I don't want her to be upset." What Damian didn't know was that I am the Alpha King's only daughter. And I understood every word of the Old Tongue. I said nothing. But when I returned home, I secretly contacted my father, the Alpha King, and agreed to return to the North and inherit the throne.

The seer's prophecy was clear: Alpha Alistair Blackthorn would betray his Luna in the fifth year of their mating. Alistair laughed and kicked her table over. "Eight years with Selene. You think I would throw that away for some liar's words?" For four years after, he was perfect. Tender. Devoted. He rejected Jade Moonshadow, the Gamma female who confessed her love, and had her driven from pack lands. I believed him completely. Then came our fifth anniversary. A package arrived with no return address. Inside, a photograph—Alistair and Jade tangled together, raw and intimate. On the back, written in careful script: His heart stays with you. His body stays with me. Now we're even. At the bottom of the box, a pair of pink lace underwear. The same pair she wore. I sat alone for three hours. I did not call him. Instead, I went to the elders and asked them to prepare the Severance papers.

The plane touched down in Tripoli at dusk. Behind me, the sky was on fire. I pulled out my phone and typed a message to my husband, Don Vito Hart. [I'm here. I came to bring you home.] No reply. I called his underboss, Enzo Stark. His voice was hesitant. "You… you really went to Libya?" An explosion rattled the terminal windows. My heart slammed against my ribs. "Which district is he in?" A long pause. Then, quieter: "He never left the country." His voice dropped to barely a whisper. "The business trip… it was a lie." The line went dead. A photo appeared on my screen. Time-stamped today. Vito was smiling. Bright, but something behind his eyes looked tired. His arm was wrapped around a woman. They were blowing out candles on a birthday cake. I recognized her instantly. Rosa Quinn. The woman he'd knelt and sworn on his mother's grave never to see again. Three years ago. I still had the scar on my own palm where I'd made him swear. Vito had forgotten. Today was my birthday too. My phone buzzed again. "Sera, the truth is—the Don never ended things with Rosa. We all knew. But you two seemed so happy… no one dared tell you." I read the message twice. Then I slipped the phone into my pocket. There was no need to pretend anymore.

As New Year's Day approaches, a new hire who has only been with the company for six months, who is a mama's girl, calls the police and tries to have me arrested. She suspects our company is some kind of a scam. But the truth is, the company exceeded its performance targets this year. That is why I prepared a million-dollar year-end bonus, a ten-day premium trip to Graceland, and equity grants for my employees. Yet, she waves around a video her mother sends her, claiming that high-paying jobs like the one I offered are all traps. Not only that, she slanders my company all over the internet. Netizens become outraged and call me a scammer disguised as an entrepreneur. Having become the target of public criticism, I simply issue a notice, saying, "The company will immediately begin transfer procedures, and all perks are canceled." As soon as the announcement comes out, my employees, who have just taken out loans to buy homes and just gotten their visas for the trip, are completely stunned.

On New Year's Eve, my own brother slapped me three times. He stood there, full of himself, and spat at me in disgust. "This is my house. Who do you think you are, coming in here and telling me what to do? Get out. You're nothing but bad luck. If you dare stay, I'll hit you again." He seemed to have forgotten something. The house he was living in was the one I had bought for Mom. The jewelry his wife wore was all paid for by me. The money in his children's hands was the generous allowance I had just given them. My face still burning, I looked around at the others. My sister-in-law curled her lips into a mocking smile and let out an icy snort. The two children stared at me with open hostility. Mom, who had called me there tonight for my birthday, stood silently in the corner. Just like always, her eyes were red, yet she said nothing. At that moment, something in me snapped.

I'm undressed and bound to a testing table when my family comes to pick me up. A thick, sharp needle pierces into my neck. A drug is administered into my blood, and the pain almost makes me lose consciousness. Behind me, I can feel a man's cold hands stroking my skin amorously. Before me, several people are staring at me. They point at me and treat me like an educational instrument. I tremble in fear and curl up on the testing table in pain. Three years ago, my brother sent me to Mykorra's war zone to stand up for Yvette Sanders. Those were the three most insulting and torturous years of my life. They burned away my hope for kinship but not my desire for survival. As the hands roam lower on my body, I bite my lip so hard that I almost draw blood. As the hands start to go overboard, someone knocks on the door. "Wendy Sanders, your brother is here for you."

Elin was supposed to marry the crown prince and become the queen. That's what her father the duke had always told her, and that's what everyone believed. That is until the day the crown prince mysteriously loses his life in a tragic event leaving Elin drowning in grief, anger, and guilt. Fingers point out at her in suspicion as the next in line for the throne. As the conflict between noble parties began she's thrown into a fight for succession with her cousin and childhood friend, Louis. That's when the king interfered, sending Elin to study with her cousin at the royal academy postponing the announcement of the next heir, and giving her the perfect chance to realize her goals. Taking that as her chance, Elin begins to orchestrate her plans to investigate who killed her fiance while looking for a way to let her cousin win the succession battle. If only they would let her step down from the throne. She didn't expect that Louis too had his own plans in all this madness. And that she would meet someone else who would make her reconsider her decision and shake the fragile balance she was standing on.

After connecting to a call hosted on a treasure-appraisal livestream, I find out that the "Fields of Freedom" stamp my grandpa has left me with is worth 10 million dollars. I've been troubled as to how I should afford my upcoming wedding with my girlfriend, Danielle Dalton. Delighted by the news, I call Danielle to tell her about it. Unexpectedly, Danielle, who's always such a prude about physical contact to the point that she refuses to let me kiss her, turns up on my doorstep that night. She spends the night draining me of my stamina with her skills and body. When I wake up once again, both Danielle and my stamp are gone. I visit Danielle's home to get my stamp back. But her father instantly shoves me out of the door angrily. "We don't welcome you here! Get lost right now!" At first, I thought there was a misunderstanding between us, so I still held back on my rudeness. But when I notice how rude Danielle's father is being to me, I decide to go all out on him. "Sure, I can leave, but you must return the stamp Danielle has stolen from me—" Before I can finish speaking, someone has dumped a bucket of ice-cold water onto my face. It turns out that the culprit is Danielle's mother. As she carries the bucket, she scowls at me, her features completely twisted. "Who the hell did you claim to have stolen your stamp, huh? Don't you dare run your mouth without any proof! I'll definitely sue you, you know!" Having realized how vile Danielle's parents actually are, I can't help but feel a strong hint of relief. Thank goodness I had only shown Danielle a fake copy of the stamp last night.