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Three months before my wedding, my fiancé, Henry Siebert, decided it was the perfect time to drop a maternity photo shoot on social media—with my foster sister, Betty Foster. The caption? Oh, just this gem: [Legally welcoming our little one into the world.] Betty added a shy emoji. And my mom? She liked the post and wrote: [Once the baby is born, I'll help take care of it so you two can enjoy your time together as a couple.] I couldn't help myself. I replied with a single question mark. And then Henry's DMs came in hot: [She's just borrowing me for a year to get married. Once the baby's born, I'll come back to you.]

Penelope was surprised by her best friend Anastacia when she announced that she is engaged to her boyfriend that she met just 6 months ago. Not knowing anything about the guy and she even saw him for a few times, from her own heartbreak experienced she suggested to her friend she’ll gonna check first his background and anything. Bewildered of what she saw while spying her best friend’s boyfriend she takes a video of it and decided to upload in social media to teach the man a lesson. Unfortunately, the person on the video was not her best friend's boyfriend but his twin. Not knowing that she’ll be the one who will be punish not only because of the video but in someway her heart will going to be involved too.

At our seventh wedding anniversary party, Caleb Thorne shares a drink with his childhood sweetheart. My face darkens, and he publicly snaps at me in front of everyone. "It's just playful fun between friends—why are you so uptight? If I really had something going on with Emma, do you think you'd ever have become my wife?" He storms off in anger. That same night, his childhood sweetheart updates her social media banner to a photo of her holding hands with Caleb. In the past, I would've rushed to her house without a second thought, dragged Caleb out, and demanded to know if he ever truly loved me. But this time, I don't care anymore.

The day Eve Jones came back to town, Zac Gibson did not come home all night. The next day, I saw a post on her social media, showing a photo of two hands tightly intertwined, along with Zac’s peaceful, childlike sleeping face. When he finally came home, he threw divorce papers at me and said, "You’ve been standing in Eve’s place this whole time. Now that she’s back, it’s time for you to move on." It did not matter anymore. I was not going to live much longer anyway. Whoever wanted the title of "Mrs. Gibson" could have it. Later, I died. But Zac cried at my grave, kneeling, promising he would never hold anyone else’s hand again.

A mother's troubled past haunts her, but she is bound and determined to find the light at the end of the tunnel in this devastatingly beautiful tale. Lillian McMasters clicks the accept button one day, not realizing that it will change her life forever. As a mother of 2, married and homemaker, she makes up her mind to leave George after years of pain and betrayal. However, she doesn't know how until Jordan Hill friend requests her on a social media site. At first, she doesn't recognize his name, but she keeps looking at his picture until she remembers exactly who he is. Keeping their contact secret, her husband starts to suspect something. Stay tuned to find out what happens in Forbidden Kiss and see what destiny has planned for her.

My husband finally keeps his promise to take me on a trip abroad after I've given birth to his child. However, he disappears the moment we get off the plane. I roam the foreign land alone, unable to reach him. Two hours later, I stumble upon his childhood sweetheart's social media update. It's a photo of her and my husband sweetly feeding each other ice cream. It's captioned, "Someone who cares about you has you in their heart wherever they are." After a long silence, I comment, "Now you can live in his heart forever." I walk away after leaving nothing but a divorce agreement behind. That's when my husband, who's always been cold and aloof, panics.

My son, Scott Gould, suddenly tells me that he has leukemia. Then, he goes on to say that his biggest wish is to see Ivanna Newman in a wedding dress. My husband, Theodore Gould, agrees with Scott. "I'll hold a wedding with Ivanna. Once Scott is done with his treatment, we'll get remarried." I gladly agree to the request and divorce Theodore. Not long after, I learn from Scott's social media that he's attending the wedding of Theodore and his childhood sweetheart, Ivanna. The caption he writes says, "I'm so happy for Dad. I can't help but shed tears for true love." I smile and turn off my phone. Holding the hand of the person next to me, I board a plane to Wismuth.

My husband asked me if bras were more comfortable without underwire, and I was happy that he had finally become more mature. The next day, his assistant snatched the parcel I received in the mail, saying that it had the wrong address. That night, I saw Samantha Davis post on her social media, with the caption, “My boyfriend bought this for me. Isn’t it pretty?” It was a selfie taken in a hotel mirror, and there was a beautifully decorated box containing a bra lying beside her. So, as it turned out, it was not that men became mature later in life, it was that you weren’t the one they were willing to become mature for. Naturally, I gave the post a like and took a screenshot before sending it to my husband. "What a waste. You could have gotten an 20% discount if you bought the whole set."

These daddies don't ask for obedience. They demand it. Daddy's Demands is a collection of decadently dirty daddy dom romances from some of the hottest authors in the genre. This deliciously naughty box set includes twenty-five brand-new, stand-alone novellas featuring steaming hot, irresistibly sexy adventures with the baddest daddies imaginable. Good girls be warned: your obedience will be demanded on September 18th.

On Benedict Bradford’s birthday, he posted a link on social media with a taunting offer: [$1.99 buys you a prank—target: Sansa Stormcloud.] So when I arrived at his party, the guests drenched me in water, hurled glasses, smashed cake in my face, and shoved me down the stairs. Benedict sneered as he stood over me, arm slung around Lina Kipling. “You think you’re fit to marry into the Bradfords? Pathetic. “You’re not even in Lina’s league. You’re worth nothing more than a couple of dollars!” I picked myself up, dusted off my dress, and handed him an invitation. “You know, Benedict, the Bradfords have another heir. “And shortly afterwards, you’ll address me respectfully as your sister-in-law.”