Burn Before Reading Novels & Stories

I was reborn on the day my sister, Tilda Wright, and I had to pick our husbands. That was when I realized I could hear people’s thoughts. I heard Tilda say, [This time, I’m gonna make sure I grab the best husband first.] Then, just like that, she rushed over and took the sweet guy I had married in my last life, while I ended up with the abusive man who used to beat her every day. I laughed to myself. Did she really think the guy I married before was some perfect gentleman?

It's 11:30 pm. Home alone, I decide to order some takeout. When the map shows the delivery guy is zero miles away, I receive a call from him. I pick up, only to hear unsettling silence from the other end. I hang up, annoyed. The next moment, the guy texts me, "Sorry, I'm hearing-impaired and unable to speak. I called to notify you to pick up your food as soon as possible. I can't explain things over the phone, and I apologize for that." Then comes another text. "You must've been waiting for a long time. I've left your order at your door, so please pick it up as soon as you can." Just as I prepare to open the door, I see bars of live comments—reminiscent of livestream chats—floating right before my eyes. "Don't open the door! That dude isn't a delivery guy at all! He's a murderer!" "He called you to check if you're a woman living alone!" "Seriously, why are all thriller story protagonists always so dumb? The delivery guy is obviously suspicious, yet she still wants to open the door."

I was halfway through a sad cafeteria lunch when a livestream popped up: [Ring toss—whoever lands it gets the dog.] Onscreen, Alverton University's rich-boy squad cracked up, betting on who'd "own" me. Adrian Locke, the student council golden boy, flicked his ring. It landed dead center on my nameplate. "One month. Let's see which owner the little bitch wags her tail for." I closed the stream. Right then, a text from my dad lit up my phone: [Sweetheart, have you chosen your fiancé candidate?] I smirked, snapped a screenshot of the stream, and sent it. [Evaluation complete. All four disqualified.]

When Eliza takes a position as a healer in the Red Timber Wolves Pack, she has no idea that she is close to the man who once stole her heart. James, the devoted Alpha, is shocked to see Eliza, the simple country woman who broke his heart three years be-fore. James still loves her, and is shocked to discover that Eliza does not remember him, their engagement…or their passionate love affair.***James thought of jealousy at the persona he had created in her mind . . . A wolf that now commanded Elizabeth’s loyalty even after years of absence.A wolf that, apparently, no longer looked like him.James felt a rush of irrational jealousy for his past self, his self that could act without consequence, that could love his mate without fear.James stopped Elizabeth’s path, turned her to him and pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply.Her Forgotten Mate is created by Hannah Tatum Reading, an EGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

After transmigrating into a horror game, I realize I can hear ghosts' inner thoughts. "Oh, look, a human! I need to give her a pet!" "Why can't I touch her? Move! I gotta touch her!" "Humans! She's so tame that she's even letting us pet her!" My inner thoughts scream, "Damn it. Now I feel like a monkey in the zoo."

I saw a post while scrolling through my social media. [Adult male merman for sale. Hard to tame. Letting go for cheap.] I commented, [I'll take him.] The seller asked for ten thousand dollars and promised doorstep delivery. When I opened the package, the merman was nowhere near 160 pounds. He barely weighed over a hundred. His skin was sallow, his ribs visible beneath it, and his tail fin was rotting at the edges. I messaged the seller, [I want a refund.] The message failed to go through.

"How can you say that about me, Nathan? I never had a kid!" Aaron Fuller protests. My wife, Jenny Green, stands protectively in front of him. "That's enough! You can't slander Aaron just because you're jealous of him. Just you wait, Nathan. I haven't settled the score with you for calling Aaron this afternoon and insulting him!"

After a two-week business trip, I pushed open the front door. After greeting my in-laws, I dragged my suitcase toward the bedroom. But just as my fingertips were about to touch the doorknob, a string of floating comments appeared before my eyes: [Don't go in! Your husband and your best friend are all over each other in your bed right now! If they find out you've seen them, they'll silence you for good!] I froze in terror. Just as I was about to turn around and run, I suddenly heard my baby's voice from inside my womb: [Mommy, don't believe that! Daddy passed out from low blood sugar while setting up a surprise for you. He sent you a message before he collapsed. Hurry and save him!] In my first life, I was too frightened to go inside. My husband froze to death on a floor covered with roses. My in-laws blamed me for not checking my messages, and in the end, they went mad with grief and pushed me off a building. In my second life, I tremblingly pushed open the door. My best friend instantly drove a knife through my heart. My husband sat on the bed the entire time, a smile on his face. When I opened my eyes again, I was standing in front of the bedroom door once more. The floating comments and my baby's voice appeared at the same time.

On my first day of work, I found myself face-to-face with the "Reaper", the infamously cold CEO, Silas Vance. I was paralyzed; he was the spitting image of Lucas Thorne, the treacherous ex who bankrupted me and left me for dead in my previous life. "Get out," he commanded, his voice cold. Just as I reached the door knob, a frantic, ecstatic voice erupted inside my head: [Holy crap! Is this my long-lost fiancee? She is a million times more stunning than her pictures! Is she already head-over-heels for me? Quick, I need to say something harsh to maintain my cool persona!] I freeze, the truth hitting me like a lightning bolt. He isn’t my ex. He’s the man my grandfather betrothed me to in childhood, whom I rejected in my previous life before falling prey to a swindler. Silas thought I was here to break off the engagement. Little did he know, I returned from the grave with a secret weapon: I could hear every one of his thoughts. 'Go ahead, Silas. Keep up the cold, untouchable act. With your heart screaming your secrets directly into my brain, I’m going to peel back those layers of yours one by one until you’re completely under my thumb. 'This time, the game is mine.'

At another Sunday dinner at the Bellandi estate, Luca Bellandi's assistant, Ava Marino, was sitting in my seat. It was the first chair to Luca's right at the long walnut table, the seat everyone in Chicago's underworld knew belonged to Mrs. Bellandi. Ava sat there as if she had been born into it, her pale wrist brushing Luca's sleeve while she poured his wine. I stood in the doorway and looked at him. "She's in my seat. You don't have anything to say?" Luca raised his eyes. "You were late. Don't blame someone else for sitting down first. There are empty chairs over there. Sit if you want. If not, get out." The dining room went dead quiet, and before I could answer, his thoughts slipped into my ears. [Vivi, don't go. Come sit beside me. Tell them it's your seat. Tell me you still want to be my wife.] [Please get mad. Please care. Say you need me, and I'll give you the whole world.] In the past, those soft, trembling thoughts would have been enough. I would've swallowed the insult and stayed beside him like a loyal dog that didn't know when to leave. This time, I didn't. I slipped the wedding ring off my finger and laid it on the table. "If the Bellandi family can't even keep a wife's seat for me, then I guess this family doesn't need a wife anymore. Luca, let's get divorced."