Dr Strange Hand

Right before the SAT, our scatterbrained airheaded group favourite, the school belle, Priscilla Ashford, volunteers herself to safeguard everyone's admission tickets. My firm refusal of her offer earns me the displeasure of my childhood sweetheart, Justin Kylemark. "You're picking on her again," he says. I ignore his rebuke. On the exam day itself, I personally double-checked every single admission ticket to make sure nothing could go wrong. However, the moment Priscilla gets hers from me, she burst into tears, claiming that I lost her ticket. Justin snatched my admission ticket and tore it to shreds. I run until my legs give out, barely managing to get it reissued before the bus leaves. However, my classmates all kicked me off the bus together. "You lost Priscilla's admission ticket. Do you think you deserve to sit for the exam?" They carry with them the exam prediction I had prepared for them. Thanks to that, they each achieve excellent scores. I have no choice but to repeat the year and become the top scorer. By then, Justin and my other classmates, who are already in prestigious universities and colleges, all return together. They produce fake evidence, accusing me of cheating in the exam. Unable to defend myself, a candidate who flunked the exam poured gasoline on me and set me on fire. When I open my eyes once more, I see myself handing the admission tickets over to Priscilla… except for my own.

My wife and I slept in separate beds for over three years. Then on our wedding anniversary, she suddenly tried to win me over. She climbed into my bed and pulled out all the stops, trying to get me to sleep with her. I stayed calm and collected. When our son started crying, I used it as an excuse to escape to his room, where I stayed all night. Vivian Hartley spent the entire night knocking on the door. The next morning, she acted sweet and gentle, graciously making me breakfast as if nothing had happened. She even tried to hand over her salary card. When my mother-in-law heard about this, she exploded at her daughter. "You pathetic fool! People need some self-respect! If you can't stand up for yourself, just get a divorce already!" Yet Vivian claimed her feelings for me ran so deep that the heavens themselves could vouch for her sincerity. She even defied her own mother. Our relatives and friends looked at us with envy. But my son and I continued to give her the cold shoulder. Finally, Vivian turned to social media for help. "Three years ago, I was busy with work. My husband and I had completely different schedules. I was afraid it would affect my performance at work, so I suggested we sleep in separate rooms. "Now our child is older, and I've swallowed my pride to try to fix things, but my husband won't even touch me." Someone in the comments gave her some advice: install hidden cameras around the house. "We can't just take your word for it. Record everything so we can see what's really going on. Plus, if things actually end in divorce, at least you'll have built up your social media following. It won't be a total loss." Vivian had no idea I was watching from among her followers.

My husband is a stranger. Everyone says I was madly in love with him, that I couldn’t wait to marry him. But when I look into his eyes, all I see is darkness. Cold. And Bottomless. This can’t be love. Not the kind you choose twice. I don’t remember him. Not the wedding, not the vows, not the man I supposedly gave my heart to. But what I do see… makes me question why I ever said yes in the first place. Then the memories come crashing back, a painful memory I wish stayed burried hits me and I understand. I understand why he looks at me with hatred. Why our love was doomed from the start. Why I had to leave. He wouldn’t let me go, so I forced his hand and disappeared. Five years later, fate brings us face to face again. "I can’t live without you, Dear stranger, marry me again." he says. And just like before… My heart remembers what my mind forgot. That a love so deep cuts just as deep. ............. His love will heal her, his rage will burn anyone who tries to hurt her. Ian Quinn Wasn't just passionate, he was explosivey intense. He loved like a storm and hated like a war. He lost her once, this time he will tear the world apart, if it means making her his again.

"I never thought that the bartender I met on the island would turn out to be my boss!" Gabbriel Lane Tolentino was forced to take a leave after his boss ordered him to find his lustful soul. That’s how it goes when you’re a photographer for a men’s magazine—you have to explore. But Gabby ended up exploring something else during this vacation. This is the story that will make you fall in love, laugh, and cry. Originally from Wattpad with five million reads, now available on GoodNovel!

Claire Michel woke up in a hotel room with a man she didn't know. Her wedding to her fiancé, Ludwig Beyer, was about to take place, but she had no idea what to expect. One day, a video of her going crazy in a nightclub was leaked. Her extended family was furious and her wedding plans were canceled. She was kicked out of the house. Newly living on the outside, Claire found herself pregnant. A few years later, she was reunited with the stranger who had spent a thrilling night with her in the past. He is Felix Homann, a very special client that Claire's boss has asked her to take care of. So, what will Claire do?

“You’re drunk,” he said, smirking. “Yeah,” she admitted, then reached out and touched his shirt. “But I still want to have sex with you.” Vincenzo tilted his head slightly, like he was studying a new toy. "You were about to go after my bodyguard, huh?" he said. His fingers suddenly cupped her breast, slow and confident. “And yet, you look more like a virgin than a pervert.” That sobered her up a bit. “I—what?” Before she could say anything else, she blurted, “I want to have sex with you. I’m all yours tonight.” Vincenzo raised a brow, then smiled. “If that’s what you want.” He stood up, lifted her into his arms effortlessly, and carried her through a side door. Her arms looped around his neck as her heart pounded so hard she could barely breathe. He kicked open a private room. Inside, he pressed her against the wall and kissed her—hot, commanding, full of hunger. She melted into it. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and for the first time in her life, she didn’t care who she was supposed to be. She was just a girl kissing a stranger.

In a romantic triangle of good and bad, it's hard to tell who's good and who's bad. Lizzy Ewing is caught in a romantic triangle between two enemies: the handsome vampire, Nevi, and the hunky supernatural handler, Geoffrey. A supernatural handler herself, Lizzy must choose between Nevi and Geoffrey. One wants to be with her for all the right reasons, one does not. Will she discover who is who before the bad destroys the good?

Imagine standing in your white dress, 20 minutes to your wedding and your boyfriend of 4 years and supposed soon to be husband walks in and tells you it was all a mistake and he doesn't want to marry you anymore. You're devastated, because everyone is in the hall waiting for you, both the same people that have mocked you for being in a relationship that was heading nowhere; you should have listened to them. Now you run out crying, after begging him in tears to please consider taking you back (I'm such a fool) You're in the garden crying and you meet his hot half brother and you both share his cigarette. Now he has a proposal. To save you from shame and for personal reasons for him; He's asking you marry him. But it doesn't end there, because you never knew that he was in the Mafia, a top ranker at that, and he has obsession issues. He will literally kill anyone he dares to look at you, he will protect you, even take a bullet or two for you, but there's a catch. You must not fall in love with him. Sounds crazy right? Well let's go

Chloe is having a bad day that turns into a bad week. She gains more weight, forgets to pick up the milk, bribes an officer, and just can't seem to get caught up. Bad turns to worse when she catches her husband cheating on her, finds herself a murder suspect, and tries to avoid stranger danger.

My mother is a hospital director. To give my brother, an intern doctor, more hands-on experience, she assigns him as the lead surgeon for my brain tumor operation. I beg her to let someone else do it and tell her it's my only chance at survival. But she slaps me hard across the face and screams, "How did I raise such a selfish, ungrateful child? Your brother has just started his internship—can't you help him improve his skills? Is that too much to ask?" Later, the surgery fails. I die on the operating table. And my mother seems to have aged decades overnight.