Defending Jacob Did He Do It Novels & Stories

At the party for our first wedding anniversary, I hit the floor—face-first on a red carpet, gasping like a fish out of water. Carlo Pipino, my husband, had his arm draped around Gianna Verde, his childhood flame, sipping champagne and laughing. Gianna knew I was allergic to nuts. So, obviously, she bathed everything in hazelnut dressing. One bite and boom—my throat locked, my lungs lit up, and hives popped like confetti. I reached for my allergy meds—came up with a fistful of melted M&Ms instead. Gianna laughed when she saw my face. "Surprise! Carlo swapped your meds. Seriously, Siena, one nut? Dramatic much?" I slid off my chair, wheezing, while the crowd placed bets on how long my "performance" would last. "Carlo... my meds..." I croaked. "Please. I'm gonna die." He sighed, annoyed. "God, you're so dramatic. Why do women always play dead for attention? You know I love you. Just stop this show already." Right then, my heart shattered faster than my lungs could. I stopped begging. Hit the distress signal. Called my real family.

Arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, Mafia/cartel romance As the only daughter of the Kansas City capo, at eighteen years of age, I was given to the son of my father’s consigliere, a man who was expected to accomplish great things for the famiglia. Things didn’t go the way we planned. There wasn’t love. My husband was a traitor, taking part in a coup against the famiglia. He’s now dead. I’m free. Until the fateful night my brother, our new capo, informs me that I’ve once again been promised in marriage. He explains that as a childless widow and the daughter of the late capo dei capi, I am desired. Requested. Aléjandro Roríguez is the son of the leader of the Roríguez cartel. My brother married a woman from the cartel, securing the Mafia/cartel alliance. He says that it’s now my turn. I’ve only met my future husband a few times, but I know without a doubt that I don’t like him. Loving him is impossible. I’ve lived in a marriage without love. I won’t do it again. Aléjandro lives a dangerous existence. Death saved me once before. Maybe it will again. Have you been Aleatha’d?

When she married Harry Slate, she was 22 years old while he was 32. During their three years of marriage, he showered her with endless tenderness and would give her anything she wanted. He said he could pick the stars for her if she wanted, even the moon if she so wished. He spoiled her like she was a precious treasure. The only thing was that he had insatiable demands every night. He would chuckle and refuse to let her go, even when she cried and begged for mercy. She knew Harry had a lot of money and a lot of love—and all of it belonged to her. The day her father passed away, she called him 99 times, yet he declined every single one. The next second, she received a photo taken by her best friend. [Celine, is this your man? I saw him hugging a woman on the streets of Palto.] After tapping the photo and seeing the man and the woman, Celine Quest felt as though she had fallen into an icy abyss. The man was Harry, and the woman was her aunt.

She was discarded. Broken. Threw away like she meant nothing. Years later, she's back—not as the woman her crushed, but as the queen he never saw coming. Lyara returns as the cold CEO who rules the city from the shadows, swearing she'll never kneel for anyone. Now he’s back too, kneeling in the ruins of his own pride, swearing he’d give up his empire, his reputation, his everything just to get her back. There’s only one problem: Lyara’s not alone anymore. Ethan Ashworth was there when the world went dark. He held her up through betrayal, sadness, and the nights she cried for a child not his. He never asked for love. He just stayed. Now both men want her. Ethan wants forgiveness. Adrian wants a future. And Lyara? She wants neither. Because the only vow that matters now is the one she made to her son. But in a game of obsession, sacrifice, and second chances… choosing no one might be the most dangerous choice of all.

My younger brother, Luke, committed suicide after being falsely accused of plagiarizing Layla's brother's music. My own life was a living hell. I was a respected music critic, but now I was the sister of "the plagiarist." My reputation was in tatters. My colleagues whispered behind my back, and my articles were dismissed as the ramblings of a biased, grieving relative. The one person who had always stood by me was my husband, Julian, a successful music producer. We had been together since college, and he was my rock, my refuge in the storm. I thought he would believe me. But, he didn't. But the real betrayal came the evening, just another day of being ridiculed online, I came home to find Julian on the phone. His voice was low and urgent, laced with a coldness I had never heard before. "The case is closed, Layla. It’s over," he said. "The evidence has been submitted. No one will ever know that it was your brother who plagiarized Luke's music."

Lake is the new girl in town, she meets the quiet boy. A typical love story. Except she had friends in her mind that she talks to, and he isn’t quite who he says he is.

On the third day after my death, Eliza Sutton received the call to claim my body. She was resting in another man's arms. She said nonchalantly, "He's dead, huh? Just cremate it and call me afterward." My body was fed to the flames and reduced to ashes. When the staff were done, they contacted Eliza again. Irritation flashed in her eyes as she snapped, "I heard you. I'm on my way."

Everyone who lives will die, and nothing they do can stop it. That's the way things are. The circle of life. And a single undeniable truth. The minute we are born we start our journey of that cycle and we will continue down that path until we take our very last breath. However, not all life spans are the same. Some people live to an old age. Others die young. Some die of natural causes, and others die of accidents, murder, or disease. It's the sad truth of being human and death doesn’t discriminate. But what if someone could see their death coming? Would they do everything in their power to stop it from happening, or would they live their lives to the fullest since they knew it was coming to an end? Would they fight tooth and nail to be able to stay earthside for even a minute longer or would they succumb to the inevitable? This is the universal question and the only ones who can answer it are the people who saw their deaths, people like me. My name is Remi Woods. I'm eighteen years old, and for as long as I can remember, I've been able to see how a person will die with a single touch. At first, I wasn't quite sure what was happening and I was terrified that maybe I was going crazy, but after my visions kept coming to fruition no matter what I did, I knew I was different, and not in a good way.

Two people from two different backgrounds. Does anyone believe that a man who has both money and power like him at the first meeting fell madly in love with her? She is a realist, when she learns that this attractive man has a crush on her, she instinctively doesn't believe it, not only that, and then tries to stay away because she thinks he's just a guy with a lot of money. Just enjoy new things. She must be the exception. So, the two of them got involved a few times. Then, together, overcome our prejudices toward the other side and move towards a long-lasting relationship.

At the age of twenty, I mated to my father's best friend, Lucian, the Alpha of Silverfang Pack despite our age difference. He was eight years older than me and was known in the pack as the cold-hearted King of Hell. He was ruthless in the pack and never got close to any she-wolves, but he was extremely gentle and sweet towards me. He would buy me the priceless Fangborn necklace the next day just because I casually said, "It looks good." When I curled up in bed in pain during my period, he would put aside Alpha councils and personally make pain suppressant for me, coaxing me to drink spoonful by spoonful. He would hug me tight when we mated, calling me "sweetheart" in a low and hoarse voice. He claimed I was so alluring that my body had him utterly addicted as if every curve were a narcotic he couldn't quit. He even named his most valuable antique Stormwolf Armour "For Elise". For years, I had believed it was to commemorate the melody I had played at the piano on our first encounter—the very tune that had sparked our love story. Until that day, I found an old photo album in his study. The album was full of photos of the same she-wolf. You wouldn’t believe this, but we looked like twin sisters! The she-wolf in one of the photos was playing the piano and smiling brightly. The back of the photo said, "For Elise." ... After discovering the truth, I immediately drafted a severance agreement to sever our mate bond. Since Lucian only cared about Elise, no way in hell I would be your Luna Alice anymore.