Award Winning Novel Novels & Stories

In my tenth year of being the Luna of the Nocturne pack, the first love of my mate, Alpha Stellan Caldwell, returns to the pack. With a bouquet of dead wolfsbane in her hands, Nigella Starveil barges into the anniversary of the mate-bonding ceremony between Stellan and me. "Stellan, I still remember you telling me that you're willing to endure all types of poison in the world just for my sake. Does that promise still count?" Before Nigella finishes her sentence, Stellan, my powerful yet distant Alpha, feels his expression change instantly. He doesn't even bother sparing me a glance. All he sees is the bouquet of dead flowers that are equally deadly to Nigella. Stellan rushes up to Nigella and swipes the bouquet out of her hands roughly, not caring about the fact that everyone is staring at him right now. Silence befalls the hall instantly. From my position behind Stellan, I know right away that I've been reduced to the biggest laughingstock in the Northern Territories. The fact that Stellan doesn't hesitate to protect Nigella becomes the biggest insult that humiliates me to no end. It turns out that ten years of companionship and shared struggles are nothing compared to the bouquet of dead wolfsbane in Nigella's hands. After that, Nigella shoots me a smug and contemptuous look while rubbing her reddened wrist. "Do you see now? This is proof that he loves me. You've already tried to do your part as the breeding machine, so you can now retire from your position." In the past, Stellan had barged into the forbidden lands in search of Nigella. He almost got shredded into a thousand pieces there. But now, he's still willing to humiliate me in public just for her sake.

Our seventh wedding anniversary. I sat at the dining table—alone. My phone buzzed, lighting up with two messages. First, from Tom: [Working late at the office tonight.] Second, anonymous: [Tom is incredible. Can you even keep up?] Attached was a picture of him, lips locked with a woman I didn't recognize. I blew out the candles on the anniversary cake. Eyes shut, I typed back: [Let's divorce.]

We're releasing balloons on Christmas Eve when Milton Jenning's lover deliberately sets off fireworks. They explode on me, burning me severely. My back, already torn and raw from skin grafts for her, becomes even more of a bloodied mess. However, I don't ask Milton for help. Instead, I shield a recently reunited heir of a wealthy family beneath me, risking everything to save him. In my past life, Milton kicked me in the back and told me not to stand in the way of him taking his lover to the hospital. "Is it funny to you to use a child as a cover, Larissa? Even if you're pregnant, you and your baby are just walking skin providers for Rita! I must've spoiled you—how dare you do something as heinous as this!" I was blacklisted by all hospitals and ended up dying while pregnant. My heart was filled with hatred as I breathed my last breath. When I open my eyes again, I see Rita Atkinson secretly aim fireworks at the night sky and set them off. I hear her laugh manically as she says, "You and your child can die together!"

To attract more potential customers, my wife decided to join the cycling community. During the two months I was away on a business trip, she posted new cycling routes every single day on the map and became a well-known cycling socialite in the local scene. A neighbor suddenly sent me a video. The location tag pointed straight to my backyard. [Dude, your wife is something else. Already found herself a riding partner? Looks like the bike’s not the only thing getting ridden.] In the video, an unfamiliar lace panties hung on the handlebars of the bicycle. The lush grass swayed rhythmically, with an undulating figure occasionally peeking from behind it. I dialed her number. “What are you doing?” She squealed, “I’m out for a ride, honey. I’ve been landing a lot of high-quality clients lately. I’m working really hard to make money!” “Oh?” I smiled. “With your body?” I tightened my grip on the phone and enunciated each word, “It’s pretty dark in the backyard. Want me to turn on the lights for the two of you?

My husband, Steve Malone, thinks of himself as a highly-educated person. Not only that, but he's also very uninterested in physical intimacy. When we go to bed every night, we have to sleep with a bowl of water between us. In fact, Steve refuses to let me touch him at all. But on the day he returns from the volunteer teaching program in the countryside, I discover a pair of pantyhose all tangled up in his clothes. Upon hearing my question, Steve maintains his cool facade as he explains, "This is contraband that I've confiscated from a student." I never respond to Steve. Instead, I get in contact with the female teacher, Rebecca Cramer, who has gone teaching with Steve earlier. From the other end of the line, Rebecca's sarcastic voice drifts over. "Your husband sure is unstoppable, Audrey. He couldn't resist kneeling in the pig sty while licking the dead skin off that Paige widow's feet. No one could stop him at all. "I heard that Paige even intends to give birth to a child for him. They went at it once per day, you know. I think you should head over here and witness everything for yourself." As soon as I end the call, I contact my lawyer right away and prepare to file for a divorce. This time, I'm hell-bent on ending things with Steve.

After Pierce Emery and I got back together, I started "renting him out." Every time his old flame, Daphne Roach, called him away, I stopped crying and causing scenes like before. I charged by the hour instead. Ten grand an hour during the day. Twenty at night. Triple on holidays. Three months later, my account was up almost two million dollars. Pierce had promised to help me pick a dress for a banquet, but Daphne called him crying, saying she'd sliced her hand while cooking. I didn't even look up. I just held out my phone with the payment screen open. One night, I came down with a brutal fever. While Pierce was driving me to the hospital, his phone rang again. Daphne. He stared at the screen for a long second before answering. Her voice came through shaky and tearful. "Pierce, the thunder's so loud. I can't sleep. Can you come stay with me?" I quietly pulled out an umbrella and told him to let me out at the next intersection. He looked at me like he wanted to explain something, but I just smiled. "Don't forget to transfer the money." The same thing happened again on the day our daughter went in for her routine checkup. Except this time, she was the one asking him for money.

On the drive from our Mating Ceremony, Carter’s voice cut the silence like a blade. "I fucked someone else." He tapped the passenger seat, grinning. "She was right there yesterday. We didn't even make it out of the car." The betrayal hit me like a physical blow, a sickening echo of the past. My throat locked; my chest throbbed with a hollow, crushing ache. "Now I finally get Jake," Carter drawled. "Chloe’s a goddamn firecracker in Heat. That scent? It leveled me." Jake was my ex. Chloe had been my best friend—until I caught them in bed five years ago. When my world collapsed then, Carter was the one who pulled me from the wreckage. Now, he had crawled into the same bed. I was drowning all over again.

I was different from the others in my pack. My wolf could hear the truths hidden deep in someone’s heart. Whenever someone lied, she would immediately whisper their real thoughts to me. During the two years I was with Jace, my wolf stayed silent. I knew his love for me was real. But on the day before our marking ceremony, my wolf finally spoke. "I need to stall Leah tomorrow. I have to mark Elena." "Elena's pregnant. She has to be marked to be accepted by the pack. Leah loves me too much to blame me." My hand tightened around the pregnancy test tucked deep in my bag. A cold dread swept over me. Jace, I was pregnant too. But I wouldn't tell you. I played along with his plan, pretending I didn't know the truth. I let him make Elena his mate, father to her pup. After their ceremony, all he'd find was the discarded pregnancy test I left behind. His heir and I would be gone from his world—forever.

Sawyer Patterson intended to leave me again for his childhood sweetheart, Mathilde Payne. We'd been together for ten years, and this was our seventh engagement party. For the previous six times, Mathilde always had some kind of emergency. This time, I wasn't going to let him go. "We're about to exchange rings. It won't take long. She's just got a slight fever. It's not a big deal if you go later, right?" Sawyer lost it. "Can you stop making a scene? Mathilde has always been frail. We've been together for ten years. We can do without a ceremony." He walked out, leaving me behind with a broken heart. This time, I was truly done with him.

Five years ago, I became the wife of Cesare Fontana, the most powerful mafia don in Navarino. However, he didn't make our relationship public. Cesare has always been cold and unfeeling toward everyone. I assumed that's just the way he is. One day, I get to see the way he interacts with Sonia Moretti, his childhood friend. When I see the bright smile on his face and notice the attentive care he shows her, I finally realize that there is someone in this world whom he treats with gentleness and warmth. Alas, I'm not the lucky woman. I hand over the divorce papers. Cesare remains as impassive as ever. He signs the paperwork without even knowing that it will mark the end of our marriage. When he finally finds out that I've left, weirdly enough, he immediately panics. He does everything in his power to find me and bring me back. By then, I've already left the country. I make my way to a country beyond his reach and carve out a fulfilling life for myself. Cesare becomes the one who pines for me instead.