Novel & Cerita Body Swap Books

My hands clamped down on his neck as I snarled, forcing his head backward with all my strength. "Shut up! Shut the hell up!" The man's neck arched as his eyes rolled back, his mouth hanging wide open. His face turned a deep red, then purple, swelling like a balloon on the verge of bursting. My vision blurred. The twisted face beneath me transformed into a smaller, more fragile one filled with pain and despair. She was so tiny, her frail limbs sprawled in an unnatural, broken position in a pool of blood. The faint twitching of her body grew weaker and weaker.

I was a grown woman—was I supposed to not survive without a man? But my cousin, Sarah Cameron... she couldn't. In our last lives, she married Blake, and the two of them were trapped in a lifetime of misunderstanding because of someone else. She was the gentlest soul you could meet, and even she couldn't escape being worn down by him. So this time, after being reborn, I looked at Sarah's worried face, her furrowed brow, and started packing without hesitation. "Sarah, I'll marry Blake. John Ridgewood might not look like much, but he's got a good temper. You two should be able to make it work."

“And I will return your daughter.” Lucien stepped forward. “Don’t do it.” Sophia looked at him. “It’s my daughter.” “It’s a trap.” “I know.” Sophia looked toward the sky. “But I have another offer.” The Author became silent. “What?” Sophia smiled. “Take my story instead.” The Story Exchange The Author laughed. “What does that mean?” Sophia opened the black book. “You want to control my story?” She tore out a page. “Take it.” Another page. “Take every chapter.”

Geralda looked at me intensely. I nodded, according to what I had seen during my journey to the past dimension, my biological mother and father had intended to swap me with Alpha Felix and Luna Yelena's real daughter. "The baby swap has happened," Nicholas murmured, and I could hear him. "Rachel is being looked after by my birth mom and dad?" Geralda nodded. She snapped her fingers when my answer was correct. "Right." I took a deep breath. I continued what had been going through my mind.

He looked at me. "The swap," I said. "Can you reverse it." Gregor unfolded his hands. He stood from his chair with the careful movement of a man whose joints had opinions about evening and crossed to the bookshelf along the far wall. He ran his fingers along the spines without looking at them — the touch of someone who knew exactly what was where — and pulled out something that was not quite a book. Older than a book. Bound in something dark that had gone soft at the edges with handling.

Mia's and Finn’s cries mixed with Marissa’s shrieking drew attention from the neighbors. Slowly, people began gathering around, rubbing their sleepy eyes. After witnessing the scene, their eyes widened and a neighbor hurriedly chimed in, "Goodness gracious, Sophie, take it easy! Marissa’s old. She can’t handle that kind of rough treatment.” I spun toward them, my voice cutting through the murmur. "Oh, I’m supposed to take it easy on the woman who swapped my son for someone else’s child? She even tried to steal my parents’ inheritance and give it all to her granddaughter.

I just stared at him, stunned, and tried to pull away. He frowned, already annoyed. "Ever since you came back, you've been picking on Dorothy. What's wrong with donating some blood? Abigail Ashton, how can you be this cold?" His grip tightened—no way out. All I could do was stand there, pale, while he told the doctor to draw bag after bag of my blood. Dorothy watched with a smug smile, red lips curved like she'd already won. Milo kept going, like I was the problem. "Wouldn't it have been easier if you just listened? Why make a scene? Dorothy's your sister too. Stop being so petty. It's just blood—you're not gonna die."

My sleeve accidentally slipped down, revealing a strip of dark red fabric. Aunt Marguerite's sharp eyes caught it. She grabbed my wrist. "Why has this fabric changed color?" Someone pointed at my sleeve and shouted. "His Majesty once gifted special fabric that changes color when exposed to sleeping drugs." I had soaked that sleeve in the drug solution. Anyone with medical knowledge could tell with a single sniff. After hearing this, Aunt Marguerite fixed her piercing gaze on my stepmother. "Someone go fetch Physician Hartwell from the Royal Medical College to examine it."

It was filled with glass jars of all shapes and sizes. He often gave me drinks that were colorless and tasteless. He told me they were “fun, euphoric enhancement liquids”. However, every time I drank them, I would become irrational and unstable. Now that I think about it, that room was very likely where Noah produced those drugs. Next month was the family celebration, and Donna Zillmann assigned me to assist with the banquet preparations. When Amelia found out, she took the initiative to approach me, requesting permission from Donna Zillmann to become my assistant.

Blood is thicker than water, and nothing you do can change the fact that we're family. Instead of arguing, I reached into my purse, pulled out my phone, and brought up a photo. I held the screen right in front of his eyes. It was a picture of the back of my hand from three years ago—raw, blistered, and horribly mutilated. The scalded skin was a bloody, infected mess, left completely untreated until the flesh around it had turned swollen and red. "Stephanie did this to me." I swiped to the next few photos. They documented my forcefully shaved head, followed by the nude photos Stephanie had taken of me after ripping my clothes off.