Award Winning Novel Novels & Stories

It's the Werewolves' Hunting Festival today. It's been three months since I found my mate. During the festival, male werewolves will give the prey they've hunted to their mates. It's a way to show their strength and love for their mates. However, my mate, Chris Ashwood, tells me to give up on him and pick another mate, seeing as there are so many other outstanding Alphas around. I nod calmly and agree. In my past life, I disagreed and insisted on marrying him. However, he didn't mark me after we got married. In fact, he was stargazing in the desert with his true love when I was shot by a bounty hunter and gravely injured. Perhaps this is just a game of heart-hunting that should never have begun.

The first time my childhood friend Nathan Sinclair awakened as a werewolf, our friends called me over to help him through his heat. But Nathan shook his head. "I really don't want her to get this so easily. Werewolf love is loyal above all, and the first person I mark becomes my only mate for life. When Bella shows up, I won't give in even if she begs to help me." He waited and waited, but I never came. Nathan didn't know that his brother's bodyguard, Liam Smith, had already flooded my phone with messages. "Ms. York, Mr. Theodore has already claimed you as his mate. Please, can you come and give him a kiss?" It turned out that I had fallen while skiing and died five years ago. His brother, Theodore Sinclair, marked me and gave me half of his lifespan, pulling me back from the jaws of death. That night, I wrapped my arms around Theodore's neck and teased him, "Theo, stop holding back. Tell me, how many years have you secretly been in love with me?"

My health was not good, but I had always wanted a child. My husband, citing concern for my health, avoided intimacy with me for a year. Then I stumbled across his private messages with another woman. [You'll spend Valentine's Day with me, right? You're not going to touch her tonight, are you?] [You know I don't like doing it just to make babies. Got you some lingerie. Wear it for me tomorrow.] That ill-fitting lace lingerie he was talking about was on my body. I'd slipped it on while he was in the shower, thinking it was a Valentine's Day surprise from him. Turned out, he hadn't bought the wrong size. He had just sent it to the wrong address. I clicked on the woman's profile. Her latest video showed her at the beach, hand in hand with the person filming. I recognized her hand instantly. It belonged to my best friend.

In my third month of employment, I realized that my colleagues were calling me an old geezer behind my back. This nickname came from Wanda Stewart’s arrogant and ambitious assistant. I had hit the age of 32, but was still clinging onto the last vestiges of hope of marriage after eight long years of our relationship. I asked Wanda, “Do you know that your subordinates call me an old geezer?” She said without batting an eyelid, “That’s just the way Samuel is. He’s just a straight-talker and he’s just kidding. You’re already 32, are you seriously fussing about this?” She then chuckled, “You two are really alike.” My heart turned cold. Turns out that eight years of my youth were nothing but a joke to her. I turned to leave, resigning from my post and blocking her. Yet, the woman who was always so calm and cool started panicking. “Jansen Graham, please come back to me.”

The year my boyfriend lost his sight in a car accident, I silently disappeared. Later, when he regained his sight, he used every means to find me and forced me to stay by his side. Everyone said I was his true love, unwilling to let go even though I abandoned him. Until one day, he appeared in front of me with his fiancée, and he asked, "Mia Frank, does the taste of betrayal feel good?" I shook my head with a faint smile, it didn't matter, even if it hurt, it wouldn't hurt for long, because I was about to forget him.

After deciding to leave Azurea and follow Clara Miller to Northwood City, I was cast out by my parents. "That girl is an orphan–what can she possibly give you? If you choose a life of hardship now, you’ll spend the rest of your life suffering! Once you walk out that door, don’t bother coming back!" I left anyway. For five years, I watched Clara rise step by step, becoming one of Northwood City’s most respected psychologists. Just as she had promised, she gave me a home. As the New Year approached, I planned to take her back to Azurea to reconcile with my parents. However, just before boarding the plane, she abandoned me again–this time for a depressed patient threatening to take his own life. She let go of my hand, her eyes full of pain. "Julian Vance… he’s just like I used to be–alone, with no one to rely on. If I don’t go, he’ll jump. I’m sorry. Just this once. I’ll catch the next flight and meet you there." Then she turned and ran toward the exit without hesitation. I stood there, staring at the two plane tickets in my hand. She had saved everyone who needed redemption. Everyone… except me. Slowly, I tore up her ticket. Then I walked alone toward the security gate and turned off my phone. What Clara did not know was this: Some journeys home, once missed, are gone forever.

In everyone's eyes, my husband, Jake Payton, was the perfect man. Three years have passed since the day of our wedding, but we have yet to have a child because he wanted an 'extended honeymoon'. One day, I chanced across a message he sent to his friend. [I'm not Mindy's first, and God knows whether she's had an abortion before! The thought of having a baby with her just makes me sick!] Unable to hold back my tears, I turned around and shelved my medical report.

At the farewell banquet hosted for my wife, Lorraine Ford, who will be getting assigned into a military unit soon, Lieutenant Chester Johnson speaks up in a sarcastic manner. "You really are generous, Hunter. Commander Ford has already given away your transfer slot in the military to her stepbrother, and yet you're still throwing this banquet for her." I find his words ridiculous, to say the least. "That's impossible! My wife hates pulling strings to make things easier! In the past, she didn't even give me the youth transfer slot even though she had one!" Chester sounds more enthusiastic now. "I've personally read the approval report. Commander Ford has already listed Rowan Langley under the family column! Don't you know that she has already taken him in as her younger stepbrother?" I feel as though lightning has struck me on the spot. Then, I turn to look at my parents and Lorraine, who look quite guilty. My parents quickly grab me by the hand. "Rowan comes from a poor background, not to mention he's a widower, too. If he continues staying in this village, he'll be the subject of everyone's gossip for the rest of his life. "Hunter, you're Lorraine's actual husband, so you must be more gracious toward him." At that moment, I feel sharp pain coming from my heart. Fine. I'll be gracious, as per their request. This time, I'll personally give Lorraine away to her beloved Rowan.

Every Christmas Eve, the heir of the Marco mafia family—Adrian Marco, must follow the family tradition: Draw a name to decide whether he’s allowed to marry me. Because I, Irene Cast, am not mafia-born. Unless he draws the slip with my name on it, he can’t take me as his wife. For four years, Adrian has drawn four times. And not once did he draw my name. I always thought he fought with his family because of me— that he was willing to risk losing his position as the Don, just to choose me. Every time he failed, he held me so tightly and whispered, “It’s okay. There’s always next year.” And I loved him so much it hurt. Hurt enough that I was willing to wait, year after year. This year, I told myself: If he still doesn’t draw my name… I’ll secretly switch the result. I sneaked to the door of Adrian’s study, and heard his younger brother ask: “Don… every year you do draw Irene's name. Why do you pretend you didn’t? Is it because you still can’t let Sera go?” But he simply said, in a flat voice, “Sera needs me for something urgent. Do what you always do: swap Irene’s name for a blank one.” He walked out without looking back. Instead of swapping, he tossed the blank slip into the trash, left the one with my name on the table, and hurried after Adrian. I went inside, picked up the blank slip from the trash, and replaced the one with my name. Watching my own name fall into the garbage. Adrian…I don’t want to wait and marry you anymore. I’ll grant you your choice.

I had loved my Mafia Boss Alexander in silence for ten years. I was the only woman he fucked. Almost every night he would pin me down and pound me until I was screaming his name, filling me with his seed. He never touched anyone else. I thought I was special to him. I was wrong. To appease his fiancée Sophia’s family, Alexander dangled my mute little sister from a helicopter. I begged. I knelt. I offered my life for hers. "Enough, Ivy. The show is over," he scoffed, wiping the blood from my lip with his thumb. "It was just a silicone doll. Did you really think I would kill your sister over this? I just wanted to show you what happens when you defy me." But he didn't know that it really was Lily. I risked my life to take revenge on Sophia, only to be shot into the Mediterranean by Alexander's bullet. But why did the high and mighty Don go completely mad, searching the world for my body?