Clockwork Island Adventure Novels & Stories

While we were eating, Tristan Shaw suddenly set down his fork and looked at me. “Who is Fatcat Cook?” The fork in my hand froze midair. My heart skipped a beat. Fatcat Cook. That name was someone Lena Moore and I made up on a drunken night. We had agreed that if anything ever went wrong and we couldn’t reach each other, we would use “Fatcat Cook” as a code. No one else knew that name existed. Only the two of us. And Lena had been missing for a full month. She said she was going to Valoria for a trip. Then she never came back. I looked at Tristan’s calm, almost indifferent face, and felt my heart sink. How did he know that name?

Each of my three ex-boyfriends ends up committing suicide right after eating food that my mother, Florence Winters, makes. Their deaths are very different from one another, with the only similarity being that they all eat food made by Mom before they die. Mom goes viral in an instant. She becomes the center of everyone's attention, and she is even taken away by the police. But they never manage to find anything wrong with any of the food she makes. I don't dare to get into another relationship. I pack my things and move out of the house, leaving Mom. Two years later, Mom shows up at my engagement party. She proceeds to feed my fiance, Lawrence Smith, some food…

On their anniversary, Melinda’s world crumbled. Her husband the man she built a life with was caught cheating with her sister, the very woman who had always envied her and wanted everything she had but the betrayal didn’t stop there. Together, they framed her using fabricated photos, shattering her reputation and dignity in one cruel move. Heartbroken and humiliated, Melinda fled. One reckless night in Vegas led her into the arms of a stranger a man she’d never see again… or so she thought. Six years later, she returns. Not alone. But with twins whose father remains a mystery to everyone but her.

In my past life, my father arranged betrothals for both my brother and me, leaving the choice to us. Without hesitation, my brother chose the wealthy heiress, forcing me to marry the housekeeper's daughter. But the heiress turned out to be a cruel woman. She brought her first love home and humiliated my brother every day. Meanwhile, the housekeeper's daughter I married ended up winning hundreds of millions in the lottery, granting me a life free from financial worries. Jealous of my prosperous life, my brother deliberately drove his car straight into me. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day we're supposed to choose our betrothed. My brother rushes to choose the housekeeper's daughter first. "Jason Wright, it's my turn to enjoy the good life! You can go keep that awful woman company!" I smile. He doesn't know that my comfortable life was never dependent on my wife.

Anomalies were descending on the world when I got thrown into a horror dungeon. The problem? I was a hopeless romantic. An even bigger problem? The dungeon’s final boss turned out to be more of a lovesick idiot than I was. The moment he saw me, he practically begged to be my personal simp.. Me: Wait… we’re doing that already? The barrage of comments exploded: “Look at him. The mighty final boss is willing to be the third wheel.” “Sorry, sweetie, but our girl already has two anomalies in line. Even if he’s the boss, he still has to take a number.”

After being given a second chance at life, I made a deliberate choice to avoid Nevaeh Charlton entirely. When she enrolled at Brookshire University, I left the country and went to study in Hollandia instead. When she followed me there, I disappeared again—this time, chasing war zones across continents as a field reporter, always just out of her reach. Years passed. In the end, I returned home with the woman I loved, ready to marry her and begin a new life together. On the day of our wedding, Nevaeh was stopped outside the venue. Her eyes were rimmed red, and her voice was unsteady. "Why don't you love me anymore?"

Yvette Warren, personal secretary to billionaire Orson Cox, announced that the heiress who was accidentally switched at birth 20 years ago was living in this orphanage. Whoever could prove their identity would inherit a billion-dollar fortune. In my first life, the two-faced Laurel Marsh tricked me into giving her my keepsake to claim the family. The Coxes tore her mouth apart. "Fraud!" In my second life, my frenemy, Rebecca Vargas, tattooed a fake birthmark on herself to claim the family. The Coxes had her skin slashed to shreds. "Still a fraud!" In my third life, my sworn enemy, Vita Davidson, took out online loans to get plastic surgery, reshaping her face to resemble Orson's wife. She tried to claim the family and was thrown straight into a mastiff cage by the Coxes. By my fourth life, no one dared steal my identity anymore. They packed me up overnight and delivered me straight to the Cox residence. When the DNA test confirmed I really was the heiress, everyone thought the nightmare was finally over. But on my very first night back, the Coxes shoved me off a high-rise building. "Anyone who dares steal our real daughter's identity deserves to die!" When I opened my eyes again, Yvette was smiling as she asked who the heiress was. Everyone backed away in terror, insisting they weren't the heiress. Yvette's voice turned low and eerie. "But our investigation shows that the heiress is definitely in this orphanage."

Some fairy tales have happy endings, some have tragic ones, but there are also some fairy tales that never really end. Let's say, the story of a crown prince who was never crowned, a younger brother who pursued pseudo revenge, a lotus princess who never became a lotus flower, or the story of siblings who were banished without breadcrumbs. For a long time hanging around without any certainty, the tales accidentally unite to achieve the same goal. Being in the same side. Fight against the same enemy. Seize the happy ending, because the darkness doesn't deserve it.

As Christmas drew near, my little sister claimed she’d seen Santa Claus in the house. “He had four legs, real long, like dead branches. He crawled on the floor like a dog. His mouth was full of teeth, and I saw him with my own eyes, climbing out of the chimney. His bones were making this clicking, clacking sound.” The Santa she described was nothing like the legends. My parents and I thought it was just her imagination. Until I posted about it online. A user named “NocturneNotes” insisted my sister wasn’t lying, and that the thing was dangerous. Panicked, I asked him what we should do. He gave me three rules: “On Christmas Eve, from 11:30 PM to 2:00 AM, the entire family must ‘sleep’ by the Christmas tree.” “You can’t actually fall asleep, or you’ll die in your sleep.” “No matter what you hear or feel, you absolutely cannot open your eyes or stop pretending to be asleep. Once it hits 2:00 AM, it will leave on its own.”

Mating with Kaelen, the strongest Alpha around, I thought I'd be the happiest Luna ever. That was until my Silver Moon Ceremony, the one that would officially make me Luna of the Night-fang pack. That's when I found Kaelen on his knees before some red-haired she-wolf. He was doing a blood-bond ritual, one that drains all your spirit, all to protect her kid. His kid, in her belly. For this cub, he was even willing to push back our Silver Moon Ceremony, making me look like a fool in front of the whole pack. He conveniently forgot that I was pregnant too – with his actual first heir. So, the night our Silver Moon Ceremony was supposed to happen, I started a different ritual: the Moon Eclipse Unbinding. Come the full moon, I'm using an ancient ritual from the old texts to cut our mate bond for good. And when I do, Kaelen will feel the same gut-wrenching pain I'm feeling.