Cruel Summer

I was the princess sent over by the Werewolf Kingdom for an arranged marriage. I was also meant to be the blood bag of Count Dracula. In my past life, I helped him rule the Bloodsucking Empire. I willingly allowed him to drain my werewolf blood and even risked a dangerous pregnancy by having a baby of mixed bloodline. However, all Dracula did was watch his frail childhood crush dig out the baby from my body to save her life. It was only before I died that I realized he had never loved me. All I was to him was a mobile blood bank. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the Blood Moon Party when I was five months pregnant. Dracula raised the knife with silver blade in his hand. "Be good. All I need is some blood to save Anna." This time, I did not fight back as I did in my previous life. Dracula mistook it for obedience. He had no idea that the Werewolf Princess who had once loved him with her life had become mates with the highly aggressive Alpha King of the Werewolf Kingdom.

After Lunara Vespirin collapses from an overtime shift, she's shocked to find out that she has transmigrated into a beast world novel. It appears that the original villainess' father, a wandering beastkin named Caius Vespirin, has kidnapped five beastmates so that he can forcibly mate them to her. Right now, said beastmates are on the verge of dying after enduring the torment the villainess has unleashed on them. Soon, they will unleash their dark sides, resulting in the villainess, a.k.a Lunara, dying a terrible death. Lunara quickly comes up with a plan overnight, which involves her clinging to Caius for survival, seeing as he's the strongest beastkin ever. At the same time, she plans on dissolving the mate contracts with the beastmates and staying away from them forever. Using the pocket dimension, Lunara soon busies herself in gathering beast crystals, planting crops, and doing her best to survive in this alien world. But the way her beastmates look at her starts to get tinted by complex emotions. Emory Nagar, a snake beastkin, coils his tail around Lunara, his gaze deep and affectionate. "Luna, you can forget about dissolving my mate contract as long as I live and breathe." Galen Tideborn, a gorgeous merman, wraps his arms around Lunara's waist, his voice extremely enticing. "I'll sing for you all the time. Just don't abandon me, okay?" Levi Janvier, a lionfolk, lowers his prideful head before he begins nuzzling Lunara on the cheek. "I will give my life to you as long as you stay by my side, Lunara." Kieran Crimsworth, known for his seductive charms of a fox, murmurs into Lunara's ear, "I'll make you pay back double for what you did to me in the past, Lunara." The cold and aloof crane beastkin, Cyril Swift, looks down at Lunara coolly. "I don't care who you are or where you're from. You're the only mistress that I will ever have." Lunara is perplexed, to say the least. "Huh? I thought you all hate me because of forced mating! Why is it that you're unwilling to dissolve the mate contracts when it's time for us to do so?"

She loves him, but he hates her. Heartbroken and despaired, she goes away after he breaks her family apart and leaves her disfigured. When she comes back again, she swears to take back everything that should be hers!But inside the dimly lit room, the man scoffs. "You owe it to me!"She feels like crying, but the tears just won't come. She has come back for revenge … but … but her scum ex-husband is way too clingy! What should she do? Help!

Darlene is a woman rediscovered. After the dust of a divorce settled, she found herself trapped in a quiet house with a growing, restless hunger. What began as a fleeting, forbidden thought soon spiraled into an all-consuming obsession centered on the one person who was strictly off-limits: her son, Leo. What starts with stolen glances and secret thrills evolves into a high-stakes game of cat and mouse. From provocative signals in the hallway to the ultimate crossing of lines, Darlene and Leo navigate a dangerous path of mutual discovery. As they shed the traditional roles of mother and son, they replace them with a bond that is as intense as it is taboo. But a secret this heavy cannot stay contained forever. Between the looming threat of discovery by neighbors, the interference of old flames, and the life-altering reality of a pregnancy that binds them forever, their unconventional relationship is tested at every turn.

My husband, Jonathan Rivers, was a notorious playboy in Polesburg's elite circles. Beautiful women surrounded him constantly, yet he claimed to have fallen for me at first sight, saying it was a love that would last forever. He dismissed all the other women around him for my sake. Everyone said I was his destined soulmate. Seven years into our marriage, I had seven abortions for him, simply because he said he did not like children. Then on Father's Day, I saw him on his secretary's social media feed. The same man who claimed to be away on business was there with a child beside him, calling him "Daddy" loudly. It turned out that when he said he did not like children, he meant that he did not like children with me. I dialed his number through tears. "Do you want another wife?"

The day of my wedding photoshoot, my family's adoptive daughter tugs my veil off and asks loudly, "Aren't you our family's adoptive daughter? What are you doing here? Today's the day Ian and I are supposed to have our wedding photoshoot. Aren't you going to disgrace Ford Group by being here?" In the past, I would've run away in tears. Unfortunately for her, I'd been reborn. I slapped Aspen Miller and retorted, "What right do you have to speak to me? Who do you think you are, having a wedding photoshoot with Adrian? Are you worthy of being associated with Ford Group?"

I'm seven months pregnant when my husband's close female friend, Suzy Ruffalo, invited us to a beach party. The sun is blazing, so I stay tucked under a parasol, quietly scrolling through my phone. Suddenly, Suzy wanders over and swings herself onto my husband's lap. "Hurry up and put the sunscreen on me! Don't just put it on my chest this time. I don't want to wake up tomorrow with my boobs two shades lighter." For a moment, I wonder if I've heard her wrong. My husband, Ted Cohen, casually picks up the sunscreen and starts rubbing it on her chest without hesitation. "Your boobs are tiny to begin with. I'm helping you to make it fairer so that it looks bigger." Suzy slaps his shoulder in annoyance. "How's that your business? You said my bikini area was darker the previous time." The rest of the guys started whistling. When Ted rubs the sunscreen just below her navel, he subconsciously glances at me. However, Suzy grabs his hand and shoves it lower. "Don't worry, Nina. He's touched this area so many times he's immune by now. It's just sunscreen. There's no need to get jealous over this, yeah?" I snort and look away to book a time for the divorce agreement. I will not be jealous, but they're both going to be on the receiving end of my slaps.

On New Year's Eve, my husband, Max Davis, took me to a private dinner hosted by a big industry player. We had barely made our way around the room when a strange woman suddenly shoved me into the pool. When I insisted on checking the surveillance footage and calling the police, Max firmly held me back. He warned me to "remember my place" and not embarrass him in front of everyone. In the brief time I changed into another gown, I returned to find that same woman perched on my husband's lap, her red lipstick leaving traces on his collar. "Max, you're right! That nasty scar on her stomach really does look like a centipede. It's so hideous!" She giggled with mock innocence, adding, "It's been so fun messing with your wife. Next time, can I slap her when no one's looking?" Meanwhile, Max gazed at her like she was the only woman in the world, gently tracing his finger over her nose. "Of course, you can," he replied, eyes still locked on hers. "I'll even tie her hands behind her back for you."

I'm at the supermarket when an old woman I don't know suddenly grips my hand tightly. I instinctively shield my baby bump, but she says, "Someone has placed a swap spell on you. The dead baby is about to be transferred to your body soon." I think she's a liar, but she says, "Hurry up and try to make yourself vomit. You should try to throw up as much of that fish you just ate as you can."

I had been in a relationship with Zachary Dawson for seven years and engaged for three when, out of the blue, Ruby White, the daughter of his mentor, moved into our home. Sitting casually on the bed that Zachary and I shared, Ruby lounged with an air of nonchalance, her voice playful and teasing. "Zachary, the dental god, sure has a nice bed," she remarked with a smirk. "I can only imagine what it would be like to spend the night with him in this bed." I captured the scene on my phone and sent the video to our family group chat with a brief message: Looks like Zachary might have a new girlfriend Zachary rushed home, wrapping his arms protectively around a tearful Ruby. He pointed at me, his voice seething with anger. "My mentor's dying wish was for me to take care of Ruby! If you can't accept that, then move out!" Honestly, my brows furrowed deeper than the wrinkles on the bedsheets Ruby had sat on. Fine. I didn't need the bed, and I didn't need a fiancé anymore.