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Reborn: I Let the Wolves Hunt Them

Reborn: I Let the Wolves Hunt Them

In my past life, my boyfriend's childhood sweetheart, Kimberly Thatcher, claimed to be Lady Luck. She insisted on handing out sachets to keep our team safe for a hike. I, Priscilla Jensen, caught the scent and realized the sachets were stuffed with herbs that would attract wolves. So, I stepped in to stop her, saving everyone from an attack. But Kimberly thought I was looking down on her sachets, and that I was targeting her on purpose. Though she was the leader, she stormed off from the group in anger. We searched the forest under the raging storm. In the end, someone broke a leg, someone else was strangled by poisonous vines, and my shoulder was torn open. By dawn, we found Kimberly's corpse at the bottom of a valley. … On the seventh day after her death, her memorial service became an ambush. While everyone mourned for her, their eyes were fixed on me. My boyfriend, Fabian Lowell, was the first to lash out. He ripped off his bandage, revealing his wound. "If you hadn't stopped Kimberly from giving us those sachets, none of this would have happened! How dare you show up to her memorial service?" he yelled. Everyone turned to glare daggers at me. Suddenly, someone shouted, "It's all your fault! You're the reason we ended up like this! Go to hell!" In the next second, they hurled a pot of boiling stew at me. Then they set the private room ablaze and burned me alive. … When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day of the hike.
Short Story · Rebirth
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Arista's Code

Arista's Code

I was born with a one-track mind—I take everything seriously and do exactly as I'm told. When my adoptive father cursed a rival company, calling them bloodsucking vampires, I immediately went out, bought ten pounds of garlic and a crucifix, and stormed into their CEO's office to perform an exorcism. When my adoptive mother said she was willing to sell a kidney for the sake of the company, I contacted an underground black-market clinic on the spot and asked when they could schedule her surgery. Over time, no one dared joke casually around me anymore. Everyone in the family chose their words with extreme care, terrified I might take them at face value. That is, until the day of the family reunion banquet—when the fake heiress, who refused to leave no matter what, showed up as well. She hooked her arm through my brother's and flashed me a provocative smile. "Arista, Benji dotes on me the most," she said sweetly. "He said if anyone dares to make me unhappy, he'll chop them into pieces and dump them in the river to feed the fish." The banquet hall erupted in laughter. I was the only one whose face went deathly pale. The next second, I kicked my brother, Benji Collins, straight onto the dining table. I grabbed the silver steak knife and pressed it against his throat. "Everyone, stay calm," I announced loudly. "I've already called the police! For publicly advocating premeditated murder, desecration of a corpse, and antisocial personality tendencies… The minimum sentence is the death penalty!"
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Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse

Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse

In October 2025, an explosion occurs at a remote lab. An unidentified substance is leaked, and the virus makes people go insane. Anyone who is bitten by these rabid creatures becomes one of them. It's like the zombies people see in movies and video games. On the first day of the explosion, my five-year-old, Joyce Fairfield, is still at kindergarten. I risk my life to hurry there, but I can't even find her corpse when I arrive. I can only look at the surveillance footage to see her face, which is ashen with fear. I also see her mouth, "Mommy!" 15 days after the explosion, I finally traverse the city and get to my mother's home. However, all that welcomes me is a destroyed apartment and blood everywhere. 20 days after the explosion, my husband, Emmett Fairfield, calls me one last time from his office, which zombies have surrounded. He tells me not to leave the house. Less than a month after the apocalypse arrives, I lose all my family. I'm alone as I struggle to survive in this dead world. The spread of the virus triggers chaos in mankind. I exchange all my supplies to save a neighboring couple from bandits, leading them to safety in a secure zone where they can live stable lives. However, my kindness is not repaid. Three years after the explosion, the secure zone is under siege by a wave of zombies. As we retreat, my neighbors shove me underneath a car so I'll distract the zombies. Then, they make a run for it and get away. Trusted neighbors betray me. As the zombies eat away at me, I can feel death looming. All I want is to see my family again. Now, I've been reborn. I have six hours before the zombie apocalypse breaks out.
Short Story · Romance
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Second Life, Better Husband: Bride of the Richest Man

Second Life, Better Husband: Bride of the Richest Man

When my husband, Austin Hart, and I participated in the earthquake disaster relief, he discovered the corpse of his first love, Stacy Deleon, in the collapse zone. That night, Austin left a suicide note behind before jumping off the building with our son, Clifford Hart, in order to reunite with Stacy in the afterlife. Only then did I realize that both Austin and Clifford never cared about me, to begin with. When I was reborn, I returned to the moment when Austin first asked for a divorce. This time, I agreed to the divorce immediately. I even gave the custody of the three-year-old Clifford to Austin right away. Five years later, we meet again at an auction. Austin laces fingers with Stacy while taking Clifford's hand with the other. He mocks me, "It's only been five years, Kendra. You're really that shameless now, huh? You can't wait to latch onto me again now that you've found out I'm here!" Clifford mocks me as well. "Mom… Wait, you should be Ms. Powell to me now. You should stop pestering my dad already. My parents and I are living a very happy life right now." I just ignore them. Instead, I grab my daughter, Faye Gilmore, who has been sneaking food off the table, and steer her back to our seats. But Austin flies into a fit of rage instantly. A vein pops out of his hand, which is still laced with Stacy's fingers. "You really are shameless, Kendra Powell! We've only been separated for five years, yet you already have a daughter that old? I can't believe you're willing to resort to such despicable methods just to make me jealous! Which bastard did you have that bastard child with, huh?"
Short Story · Romance
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THE ALPHA KING’S HATED OMEGA

THE ALPHA KING’S HATED OMEGA

"You are a miserable pathetic omega." He said taking slow steps towards me as I writhed on the ground, "You stink! You are worthless! You are ugly and useless! You look like a corpse, how dare you address me with my first name?! How dare you hold me?! And how dare you think of me even accepting you?!" He bent down before me and he grabbed my hair pulling my head back before slamming my face against  the ground and I heard my nose crack, I felt the warm red liquid pooling gently at my nostrils. "Stupid bitch!" ******* Demi Carson suffered the death of her parents at a young age and was entrusted with the care of her sick Younger brother but she's thrown into a life of slavery by her Alpha mate who wants nothing to do with her and continues to make her life hell. Things take a huge turn when she's sent to kill the Alpha king in exchange for a cure to her brother’s illness which she declines and runs away from her abusive mate only to land in the territory of the Alpha king finding out that he is her second chance mate! The same Alpha she has been sent to kill. Eros Dardanos the Alpha King has wanted a mate his whole life but fate plays a cruel one on him when his fated mate carries a quality that he can't bear, a quality that worsens his weaknesses and he is torn between letting her go and fighting for her to be his. Will these two get together or will their fates be against them and what happens when Demi’s former mate barrels into their lives and Anya who desires Eros makes it a mission to bring Demi down?
Werewolf
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The Debt of the Virgin Widow

The Debt of the Virgin Widow

They say a wedding dress is a promise of forever. Mine was a shroud for the girl I used to be. I was sold to a monster to pay for my father’s sins. I expected to spend my wedding night praying for a quick death at the hands of Don Moretti. Instead, I got a bloodbath. Before the first glass of champagne could shatter, the doors were kicked open by the city’s most terrifying nightmare: Dante "The Butcher" Vane. He didn't come to save me. He came to collect. By the time the sun rose, my husband was a corpse, my family home was in ashes, and I was draped across the lap of the man who had been stalking me from the shadows for years. "Your father didn't just owe the Don, Bianca," he whispered, his thumb tracing the line of my throat with lethal tenderness. "He owed me. And I’ve decided you’re the only currency I’ll accept." Now, I am a prisoner in his fortress—a gilded cage where the line between fear and desire is blurred by every dark touch. Dante is a tyrant, a red flag wrapped in Italian silk, and a man who claims to be my protector while keeping me in chains. But as the secrets of our shared past begin to bleed out, I realize the "Butcher" has a weakness. He doesn't just want my body; he wants my soul. He thinks he’s breaking me. He doesn't realize that in the silence of my mourning, I’ve stopped being the victim. I’m learning his triggers. I’m studying his scars. And once I make the King of the Underworld fall for the widow he created... I won't just take my freedom. I’ll take his empire.
Mafia
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Bred By The Biker Alpha kings

Bred By The Biker Alpha kings

"You think you can hunt us in our own territory, little star?" Cain's voice is velvet wrapped around steel as he and his brothers flank me in the shadowy alley. "We know exactly who you are." I was a cop. Then my brother's mutilated corpse turned up in a ditch and every piece of blood-soaked evidence screamed the Vultures MC's name. Three ruthless brothers who ruled through fear, pain, and absolute dominance. So I dyed my hair blonde, erased my identity, and walked straight into the devil's den. Their bar. Their territory. Their world of sin and savagery. I'd destroy them from within or die trying. But nothing prepared me for Cain's predatory stare that strips me bare with a glance. Or Jax's twisted smile that promises delicious torment. Or Ryder's brutal hands that pin me against cold brick while his breath burns against my neck, whispering dark threats that make my body betray every principle I've ever held. Now I'm drowning in their intoxicating darkness. Leather, blood, and raw masculine hunger that consumes everything in its path. They're marking me, claiming me, breaking me down piece by piece until I can't remember who I was before them. When I finally uncover the shocking truth about my brother's murder, everything I believed shatters. The real killer has been hiding in plain sight, and now I'm caught between two deadly worlds. My oath as a cop and my surrender to these beautiful monsters. But when the lines blur between justice and vengeance, between duty and desire, how far will I fall before I lose myself completely?
Werewolf
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Choosing the Right Husband This Time

Choosing the Right Husband This Time

At twenty-eight, I held the dubious honor of being the last unmarried socialite on New York's Upper East Side. Everyone around me was growing increasingly anxious about my single status. In my previous life, my mother arranged a matchmaking cocktail party, where I was told to choose a husband from ten handpicked elite bachelors. I bribed the event planner to place Mark West's profile at the very top—and as I had hoped, I chose him. After we married, Mark treated me with what seemed like tender affection. He even bought me an oceanfront villa in the Hamptons, making me believe I had finally found true love. But that illusion shattered the day I was nine months pregnant, just hours away from giving birth. Mark drove a scalpel straight into my abdomen—then, right in front of me, hurled our newborn onto the floor. "If you hadn't forced me into this marriage with your family's power, Sofia wouldn't have been heartbroken enough to go drinking and get drugged and assaulted. This… this is what you owe her!" He tossed the scalpel aside, then calmly let his private doctor pin down my blood-soaked body. I fought through excruciating pain for six agonizing hours, until I finally bled to death. Afterward, Mark dumped my corpse into the Hudson River. But for Sofia, he hosted a grand funeral—funded with my money, under my name—and paraded himself to the world as a grieving, devoted widower. Given a second chance at life, I refused to step foot in that cursed matchmaking event. Instead, I went straight to my mother with a demand: marry me to Robert Black—the most ruthless, cold-blooded titan of Wall Street, whose scarred face was feared by all. In the end, stripped of my financial backing, Mark's hedge fund collapsed. He became a disgraced fraudster, spat on by everyone on Wall Street.
Short Story · Romance
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My Brothers' Regret After My Death

My Brothers' Regret After My Death

I was supposed to be the pampered youngest daughter of the Falcone crime family. My fiancé was Lorenzo, the heir to the Caruso dynasty. I had three brothers who were the most feared men on the streets. But everything changed the moment my long-lost older sister returned. "Isabella was kidnapped by our enemies when she was three. She went through hell until the family found her at eighteen. Why can’t you just cut her some slack?" "Elena, if Isabella hadn't gone missing, the Don would never have had you just to fill the void. You owe her your life. What right do you have to compete with her?" Time and again, I stepped back into the shadows for my sister. But on the night before my wedding, Isabella called Lorenzo. "Lorenzo... I’m at the Old Port docks. There’s a strange car here and three men just got out... I’m so scared..." Lorenzo didn't even wait to hear the rest. He slammed on the brakes and kicked me out of the car in the middle of a torrential downpour. I clung to the door of that black Maybach, begging him. "Lorenzo, it’s the night before our wedding. This is rival turf." "Just this once, for the sake of the family’s reputation, can’t you choose me?" Lorenzo grabbed my wrists and shoved me away. "If anything happens to Isabella, I swear I’ll send you to hell myself!" But those "three men" Isabella mentioned? They were actually our three brothers, who were only there to watch the ocean and set off fireworks with her. That night, my three brothers and my fiancé were at the seaside, showering her with affection. And I died in an abandoned slaughterhouse on the edge of the city. This time, I finally gave way to my sister completely. But tell me—when you saw my corpse, why were you all crying?
Short Story · Mafia
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Crimson Bloomed: Ascend

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.
LGBTQ+
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