Novel & Cerita Doctor Who The New Earth

My name used to be Misty Smith, but I killed her with the help of a family court judge in the city and became Sophia O’Shea. Okay, I became emancipated at sixteen because my parents were addicts, and the judge was nice enough to let me change my name because their addiction were slowly destroying my future. I bought my first car, got a single-wide trailer in a small town, sued a girl on my first day at my new school during my senior year, and became a billionaire genius before receiving my high school diploma. It's all thanks to my four grandparents leaving me everything before they bit the dust even though we've never met, and after becoming friends with the girl I sued on the first day of my senior year, I found out my high school crush, who moved back to Baton Rouge, Louisiana with his family after graduation, also had a crush on me. Only time will tell if it was meant to be or if it was just a phase. **WARNING: ADDICTION, DRUGS, VIOLENCE, PROFANITY, SEXUAL REFERENCES, AND OTHER ADULT CONTENT PRESENT! May not be suitable for readers under the age of 18! Please read at your own discretion!**

They bullied her… till she died. Adeline had life rough as a kid. The people who were supposed to be family treated her like trash, like she didn’t exist . Now they managed to get rid of her, or so they think … She is in a form they will never recognize planning her just revenge. The only problem being that the mate of the woman she is pretending to be is starting to suspect her. And he is not a nice guy .

A story of betrayal, revenge, and a second chance at life. Sia was loved, respected, and accepted—until the day her own family turned against her. Accused of trying to kill her step-sister, she is brutally punished by the people she trusted the most. Her husbands, powerful and merciless, stand by as her life slips away, while her step-sister Ritu smiles like a devil, hiding a deadly secret. But fate has other plans. Sia wakes up five years in the past—alive, reborn, and filled with a burning resolve. This time, she is not the same gentle girl who begged for love. This time, she is a new Sia—strong, fearless, and ready to rewrite her destiny. She has been given a second chance… and this time, she will live for herself. But when love turns into betrayal, and betrayal turns into revenge, the world will tremble. Meet the new Sia—whose heart now holds only one emotion: hatred.

After three years of marriage, James Chancer’s high school sweetheart came back to town. The same day, Sarah Sanders found divorce papers on her desk from the man she'd given her heart to for the past three years. Outside the courthouse, James poured his heart out to his first love,"I never even touched her in all these years. It's always been you." That was the final straw for Sarah. Writing off their marriage as a complete waste, she dove back into her career and became more successful than ever. That's when everyone finally realized what James had thrown away - Mrs. Chancer wasn't just a pretty face, but a wealthy powerhouse. A true catch in every sense. Three months later, James called her in the dead of night, his voice thick with regret, "Sarah, I made a huge mistake..." All he heard was her drowsy voice, “Zac, who's calling?" The man beside her ended the call with a smile, pulling her closer for a kiss, "Just another spam call, babe."

Seven years ago, Aria was left shattered when Liam Brooks, the golden heir, denied her after spending the night with her and made her the center of ruthless humiliation. Once the broken nerd girl, she disappeared from that world—only to rise again, stronger, sharper, and untouchable. Now she's a celebrated fashion icon, Aria stands on the cusp of defending her crown at the Haute Couture Awards. But fate twists cruelly when Liam returns, no longer just her past tormentor but a powerful figure entangled in her present. What begins as a battle of ambition soon sparks a dangerous game of attraction and revenge. Aria is determined to win, to never bow again, even if it means turning Liam’s own fire against him. This time, the clash is personal—and only one of them might walk away unscathed.

At the family dinner over the holidays, Elias Barrett has given all of our relatives and their children thick wads of cash. When it's my turn, he just frowns at me. "We've been together for so long. What's the point in going through the motions? You're the one managing the finances, so you can just withdraw what you need from the account." I merely nod without saying anything. But soon, I notice a text message from his bank popping out on the notifications' list. "You have transferred 1,430 dollars to Jamie Sutton. Remark: Babe, happy holidays. XOXO Elias." It turns out that Elias' anti-formalism rule is meant for me, not others. I don't bother starting a fight or throwing a tantrum. Instead, I just cancel the booking on my wedding venue that will be used next month. After that, I shred the kidney donation consent form meant for Elias into pieces. Once the holidays are over, I'm not going to extend Elias' life for him anymore.

When I get reborn, I quietly change the name of the man I want to marry the most to the hedonistic playboy in the neighborhood. My dad, who's a political officer, is quite surprised to see the change, but he still accepts my choice. In my previous life, when Dad asked me who I liked the most among the young men of the military housing office, I uttered Judd Garrison's name with scarlet cheeks. Dad nodded. "Judd is your childhood friend, not to mention our families are compatible in terms of social standing and wealth. You two have grown up together since you were kids, so I believe he will treat you well." Later on, Judd and I got engaged and married. Our wedding was a fancy and high-profile one to the point that even the political leader gave us his blessings. But Judd was quick to submit an application to help defend the border half a year into our marriage. He claimed that he wanted to contribute to the country with his efforts. Not only did he abandon me, leaving me to take care of my in-laws on my own, but he also cut off contact with me when Dad was falsely accused of being corrupted. Just as I thought I couldn't function anymore after suffering from the pain wrought upon me by Dad's death, I received the tragic news that Judd had died in a mountain flood as well. Thanks to the devastation caused by both pieces of bad news, I ended up taking my own life by hanging myself. What I didn't expect was that a gray-haired, elderly couple would visit my grave to pay respects to me 40 years after my death. Judd, who should've been dead, had an arm wrapped around my cousin, Megan Whitlock, as they stood before my grave. "It's my fault for faking my death and lying to you, Julie. Back then, I had to marry you in order to fulfill my parents' request. Megan has always been the woman that I truly love. "This is all my fault, Julie. I just hope that you can stop pestering Megan from now on. If you really are resentful, you're free to direct your resentment at me." To think that they loved each other to this extent… Judd was willing to give up on his identity and fake his death in order to get out of his life with me so that he could stay with Megan forever. He even clung to the superstition that my postmortem resentment was the reason behind Megan's cancer. Having found out about the truth, I let go of my obsession and faded into nothing. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Dad asks me who I like the most.

My adopted daughter, Phoebe Marsh, possessed an evil ability. Whenever she got hurt, the pain would also be inflicted directly on my biological daughter, Maisie Shaw. She deliberately hurt herself, covering her body with wounds and bruises. Then, she would turn around with cold eyes, watching Maisie writhe on the floor in agony until she passed out from the pain. With no medical solution available, I broke down and held Maisie close, begging my husband, Brandon Shaw, to send Phoebe away. However, he would erupt in fury. "It's obviously Maisie who's been faking illness for attention, and you're making up this ridiculous story to get rid of Phoebe. She's just a fragile, helpless child. How can you be so vicious?" After that, Phoebe escalated her self-harm even more viciously. Meanwhile, Maisie spent every day curled up in the corner of her bed, refusing to let anyone touch her. On Maisie's birthday, Phoebe threw herself from the fifth floor. Just as Maisie was blowing out her candles and making a wish, she suddenly began bleeding from all her facial orifices, and she died instantly. Yet, Phoebe only suffered minor scrapes. I died from overwhelming grief shortly after. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to Phoebe's first day in our home. Maisie was playing with her Legos when she suddenly clutched her ankle and started crying. This time, I grabbed the broom from behind the door and swung it toward Maisie, shouting, "I'll beat you up for faking illness and seeking attention!"

Power is always associated with trouble. Sometimes it is great enough to save us from trouble, sometimes it isn't. Sometimes it is so great that trouble can't get close and sometimes its greatness is the reason why trouble comes. Sometimes it's not about how you use it, sometimes it's about the power itself. The mere existence of a certain power could stir up fear, awe, hatred and envy depending on who percieved it and how they do.

My dad, Frank Stanford, was an Alpha. I, Lana Stanford, was his only daughter. The year I turned eighteen, he told me to choose a mate from the nine werewolf warriors he had taken in. I avoided Simon Eaton, the one I used to be obsessed with. In my previous life, I was kidnapped by rogues on the very day of my marking ceremony. When they drove silver nails soaked in wolfsbane through my palms, I endured the agony and sent a desperate plea through our mind link. “Simon, help me.” All I got back was his cold response. “Lana Stanford, are you done yet? Is this another lame trick of yours? “You actually hurt yourself just to get me to come see you? You're disgusting.” I closed my eyes in despair. As the silver cage sank into the frozen lake, icy water filled my lungs. My wolf let out a final, broken cry and died with me. When I woke up again, I'd returned to the day my dad asked me to choose a mate. This time, the very first thing I did was cross Simon’s name off the list. Later, he stood in front of me with tearful eyes and asked why I hadn’t chosen him. I didn’t answer. I just looked at him strangely. “Simon, this time, I did exactly what you wanted. Why are you crying again?”