Books Like Mexican Gothic

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."

After dating in secret for seven years, Mitchell Zahn decides to propose to me on the day his birthday album is officially released. But during the birthday party, he publicly invites Isabella Claxton, a composer and my sister, to work with him. I follow Mitchell to ask him for an explanation. That's when I hear him and his friends chatting and joking inside the lounge. "You're so loyal to your first love, Mitchie. You couldn't wait to ask her to work with you upon her return. What are you going to do about Gabriella, though? Will she accept how your relationship ends when she's written so many songs for you?" After a moment, another person laughs and says, "To Mitchie, Gabriella has always been a replacement for Isabella. Now that Isabella is back, her replacement has to go. Don't you agree, Mitchie?" I wait for a long time before hearing a soft sound of agreement.

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.

My mom was a brilliant programmer. She created an app called "Shake for Allowance." After my brother and I downloaded it, she told us, "From now on, this is how you'll get your living expenses. On the first of every month, just shake your phone. Whatever number you get is the amount you'll receive. "The range is from zero to ten thousand dollars." At first, I was excited. Every month, I shook my phone with anticipation. However, every time, the result was the same: 0 dollars. My brother, meanwhile, always landed the highest amount. "Wow, sis, your luck really sucks," he said. Even when he showed me the transfer record for ten thousand dollars, there was a smug smile on his face. When I confronted Mom, she brushed it off, saying my luck was bad and that no one else was to blame. With no other choice, I worked three part-time jobs just to support myself while studying. On the night before my final exams, I collapsed from exhaustion and died. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day my mom created the "Shake for Allowance" app.

UNFINISHED MISSION He works for the law. She work against the law. He's the definition of a gentle man. She's hot and dangerous. His brains works like an Alien. She's just a perfect con artist. Women are like a distraction to him. She detest men. Call him Dennis brownstone. She's scarlet Roland Just one mission brought them both together. What is the mission and why was it unfinished?

During our New Year’s Eve dinner, I told my family that my company was not giving out year-end bonuses. The table went silent. Even the TV host counting down to midnight suddenly sounded grating. My husband and daughter slammed the table in frustration. “No year-end bonus?! How are we supposed to pay the mortgage and the car loan? I didn’t marry you so you could live off me!” “Other moms either buy designer bags or send money. You’re the most useless one. You can’t even bring home a $100,000 bonus.” My in-laws sat there with dark looks on their faces and said nothing. I looked at their self-righteous faces and felt a lump in my throat. All these years, every expense in this family was paid with the money I earned from late nights, overtime, and project commissions. But all they could see was the $100,000 bonus I did not bring home. “If you can’t make any money, then get out!” My husband grabbed my arm and pushed me toward the door. My daughter was not satisfied and kicked me on the lower back. I did not turn around. I took out my phone and booked the presidential suite at a downtown five-star hotel. My bank account had just received a $1 million dividend payout. It was true that I did not get a year-end bonus. But I got promoted to management. From this day onward, I would receive $1 million in dividends every year.

On the tenth day of my postpartum recovery, my husband, Deputy Commander Harvey Wyatt, uploads a photo of me breastfeeding my newborn in a disheveled state to the department's group chat. Obviously, that photo was taken without my knowledge. "See? After having a kid, she's as loose as a sack. It makes me sick just looking at her. I much prefer my side piece, who's nice and tight." A few female colleagues send sweating emojis to the group. The majority of the chat, however, consists of the male colleagues' perverse silence. While I continue to burp my baby with one hand, my tears land on the screen. In order to give birth to this baby, my pelvic bone was sawn in half, which causes me so much pain that I can't even walk properly. But all I get in return is my own husband body-shaming me in front of hundreds of people. I don't bother arguing with Harvey at all. Half an hour later, I drag my broken body all the way to the commander's office with a divorce agreement as well as the chat history over the past ten days, which has been printed out, in my hands.

Ten years after graduation, I funded a scholarship for underprivileged students at my alma mater. During the ceremony's interview segment, one of the scholarship recipients suddenly grabbed the microphone. "That night at the karaoke bar, you forced yourself on me! Aren't you going to take responsibility?" Her words cut through the room, and every student and faculty member turned to look at me. In an instant, I was branded a rapist. The company's stock fell immediately in response. Amid the chaos, I simply stared at the girl in front of me. Had students really become so ruthless just to get what they wanted? Only a few days ago, I had helped her fend off a gang of troublemakers, so how could she turn around and spread lies about me then? Besides, I was a woman. What could I possibly have done to her?

Jessica came to her senses under the bed of her fiancé and good friend’s, regaining her IQ, and couldn’t go back ever since. The douchebag: “Jessica, prepare a birthday gift to celebrate my dad’s birthday.” “Sorry, now I am the chairman, it is him who should pay tribute!” Jessica’s scum girlfriend: “Jessica, can you let me host the marriage show?” “You said that you haven’t experienced the pure love, so don't even think about it!” Jessica tore off the fake masks of the scumbags’ and turned to a pair of ink eye pupils: “It does feel cool to slap others, but don’t forget what your identity is!” “What identity?" Christian Maddox held her waist lightly, his face without missing a beat: “You should ask the little prince in your belly...”

My grandfather is a nationally renowned inheritor of an intangible cultural heritage. Today, I'm supposed to attend a grand ceremony as his rightful successor. However, when I arrive, I see my father's adoptive daughter already standing on the stage. She's dressed to the nines. She holds an award and is giving a thank-you speech, looking moved. In the past, I would've left without saying anything or speaking up for myself. Too bad for her that I'd been reborn. The discrepancy between our statuses is so large that we're basically from different worlds. Yet she has the nerve to claim to be my grandfather's successor and put on a show with what is supposed to be my family's.