Dream About Summer

After failing the mission, the System gave me one final chance, and to succeed, I had to give birth to a child. The System promised that if the baby were born safely, it would reveal the truth to my target and give me one last glimmer of hope. However, six months into my pregnancy, just when things seemed stable, I was dragged onto an operating table in the middle of the night by my husband and family. My husband stopped the anesthesiologist from giving me any pain relief. “Let her feel the pain,” he said coldly. “We need to keep the kidneys as fresh as possible.” My parents instructed the doctor to draw my blood. “She’s the same blood type as our precious girl. Let’s take some for backup.” Even my childhood friend, the boy who had always been by my side, was the one to slice open my abdomen.  They wanted my kidneys to save my sister, who was dying from kidney failure. No one believed I was pregnant. No matter how much I begged, they went ahead with the operation, tearing me open. The baby couldn’t survive, and I died on that operating table. However, as my soul began to fade away, something strange happened. Those who had murdered me—my husband, my parents, my so-called friend—they all lost their minds.

Keaton Rourke and I get in a car accident. My liver ruptures, and I'm drenched in my blood. Teresa Bellamy, my wife, leaves me to die and runs off to save Keaton, who only has a scratch on his forehead. I'm unconscious and clinging to life in the emergency room, but Teresa fusses over how to keep Keaton's forehead from getting a scar. I wake up feeling nothing but disappointment and toss the divorce papers right in her face. She rips the divorce papers to pieces like a lunatic and makes it clear that divorce will only happen over her dead body. I used to bend over backward to make her happy. Now I'm ready to divorce her, no matter what it takes.

It had been the fifth year of my marriage, and I was about to reveal everything to my husband after pretending to be poor for so long. However, his childhood sweetheart had just returned from studying abroad. With a cruel smile, my mother-in-law sneered, "Claire and Thomas are a much better match. "Not like some trash who isn't even fit to show up in public." She and my sister-in-law had waited for the perfect moment, drugging me and teaming up with the childhood sweetheart to accuse me of being a mistress. The result? I had lost my baby. In a single night, I had lost everything. The position as a vice president of a major company, our lakeside mansion, the limited-edition sports cars... I would make sure it was all gone! I would make them beg for my mercy. I would make sure they came crawling on their knees!

After five years of marriage, my husband, Abel Brooks goes on a business trip that lasts half a year. When he returns, he brings his first love, Cora Garrett, back. She's already three months pregnant. Abel says that life is tough for her and wants her to move in with us temporarily. I object, and he tells me to know my place. His tone is scornful—it seems he's forgotten that the villa we live in was one of my wedding gifts. He and his family have leeched off me all this while. This time, I'm going to stop providing for them. I smile and call my assistant. "Draft a divorce agreement for me now. To think a live-in son-in-law would have the nerve to bring his mistress home like this."

Tammy, who my husband Steven used to mentor, was in the car crash with me. My liver had ruptured. I was drenched in blood. Steven didn't even flinch. He yanked Tammy out first, and she only had a scratch on her forehead. While I was unconscious, barely hanging on, he was freaking out about her getting a scar. When I came to, completely done, I chucked the divorce papers at his face. He went feral—ripped them up and said I'd only leave him over his dead body. I used to hate when he pulled that line. But now? If that's what it takes, so be it.

My husband is the perfect doctor… or so everyone thinks. However, he delays the critical treatment of an accident patient so he can accompany his first love's son. Later, he even secretly switches out a patient's medication and watches as she dies from the pain. That way, he can take her heart and perform a heart transplant for his first love's son. What he doesn't know is that the patient whose heart he's taken is his daughter's. She's disfigured in an accident after her treatment is delayed. He calls her family's phone number, hoping they'll agree to donate her body to contribute to the medical field. That's when he hears my phone ring.

On the day the gynecologist confirmed that I was pregnant, my husband, Austin Jones, pushed me into the operating room to donate blood to save his first love. Feeling frail after the blood transfusion, I almost fainted in front of Austin. However, he pushed me away and went to take care of his first love. Furthermore, he hung up on all my phone calls and stayed with his first love all night on the day I miscarried. Time after time, I was met with disappointment. When I finally decided that I had enough of his mistreatment and no longer wanted to love him, he panicked and begged me to give him another chance.

Mon amour, Éric Valmont. Il m'aimait à la folie. Tout le monde disait qu'il était le mari idéal. Mais il m'a trahie. Trois fois. La première fois, c'était il y a trois ans. Son ami, Lucien Caron, est mort en le sauvant. Éric m'a caché qu'il avait épousé Margaux Lefèvre, la fiancée de Lucien, pour « la protéger ». Le jour où je l'ai découvert, j'ai voulu partir. Mais il a fait partir Margaux à l'étranger dans la nuit et s'est agenouillé devant moi, suppliant : « Claire, Lucien est mort à cause de moi… Je dois prendre soin de sa fiancée. Ce mariage n'est qu'une protection pour elle, rien de plus. Dès que j'aurai vengé Lucien, je divorcerai. Je t'aime, toi, et seulement toi. » Cette fois-là, je l'ai pardonné. Un an plus tard, lors d'une conférence de presse, Éric a publiquement présenté Margaux comme « l'épouse du chef ». Il m'a encore expliqué : « Margaux est la fille unique de la famille Lefèvre, puissante dans le milieu. Notre alliance n'a qu'un but : venger Lucien. Nous avons déjà convenu qu'après, je divorcerai… et je t'épouserai aussitôt. » Et, encore une fois, je l'ai cru. Puis, il y a un an, lors d'un gala, on lui a tendu un piège. Drogué, il a passé la nuit avec Margaux. Il a tout caché… jusqu'à ce que, quinze jours plus tôt, je le surprenne à l'hôpital, accompagnant Margaux à une échographie. Quand j'ai compris, il a baissé les yeux, incapable de me regarder, et a murmuré : « Claire… ce n'était qu'un accident. Quand l'enfant naîtra, je l'enverrai loin. Mes parents s'en occuperont. Jamais ni elle ni l'enfant ne croiseront ta route. » Sous couvert d'amour, Éric m'a poussée, pas à pas, à tout accepter. Mais aujourd'hui, je le sais : il n'y aura plus jamais de « nous ». Il est temps pour moi de partir.

Violet eyes with piercing sight. Mane of gold in pale moonlight. Skin so hard and lily white. Voice so soft, yet filled with might. He comes to me in the dark of night. Flash of teeth, smile so slight. There is no fear, no need to fight. In his embrace, I crave his bite. -S.R. Michele, or Shelly to those closest to her, is a typical 21 yr old, trying to find her way in life. She has good family, a close circle of friends. She's outgoing and friendly, and a bit reckless and impulsive sometimes. And she has certain gifts...when she touches things, she can see into the past, she can feel what was felt by others, and she can sense things before they happen. Ok, so maybe she's not so typical. An impromptu trip to New Orleans, a party on Bourbon Street, and an attempted assault in a dark alley lead her into a world she didn't know existed...but one she's not afraid of. She doesn't know if the violet-eyed stranger that comes to her rescue, and follows her home, is a friend or a foe - and honestly, she doesn't care. Once you've had a taste of the darkness, it's hard to pull away... **** This book was written in the late 1990's - early 2000's, and originally published in 2004, under the title: Diary of a Vampire by S.M. Royston. It was my first book, and it wasn't long until I came to hate it! (Please, don't look it up - I promise you, it's terrible) So here we are, years later, and I've decided to throw out my original work, and re-write it. Because I'm the author, and I can do that. The story, characters, and settings are the same - but the writing style is different, and in my opinion, much, much better. I hope you enjoy it. ****

Les Hommes-Bêtes étaient réputés pour leur force guerrière. Pour consolider le pouvoir de notre clan, mon père nous a offertes, ma demi-sœur Anaïs Moineau et moi, en mariage aux deux de ces peuples. Dans ma vie antérieure, Anaïs avait épousé le roi des Dragons, dont la richesse rivalisait avec celle de toutes les autres races réunies, tandis que j'avais été contrainte de m'unir au clan démuni des Lions. Le roi des Dragons, Gaylord Dieulafoy, homme froid et impassible, ne vivait que pour ses ambitions, négligeant complètement Anaïs. Rongée par la solitude, elle avait séduit le jeune maître volage des Renards. Leur adultère avait été découvert, et Gaylord l'avait répudiée. Notre famille en était couverte de honte. Sous la pression, notre père, pourtant si indulgent envers elle, avait dû la chasser. En revanche, Brice Gardet, le roi des Lions, était dévoué et passionné. Notre union était heureuse et, en moins d'un an, j'avais mis au monde des enfants, dotés de pouvoirs divins. Grâce à ça, Brice était devenu le souverain de tous les clans des Hommes-Bêtes, et moi, sa reine. Mais la jalousie d'Anaïs avait tout détruit. Le jour de la fête pour le premier anniversaire de mon enfant, elle l'avait étranglé, puis avait mis le feu à ma demeure pour m'y brûler vive. Quand j'ai rouvert les yeux, nous étions de retour au jour des alliances. Cette fois, Anaïs a exigé d'épouser Brice, me « cédant » ainsi Gaylord. Je l'ai accepté. Dotée d'une dot dix fois moindre que la sienne, j'ai épousé Gaylord. Par la suite ? Anaïs a épuisé toute sa dot à soutenir le Lion, et son incapacité à procréer l'a contrainte à s'accoupler avec d'autres Hommes-Bêtes. Moi qui n'aspirais qu'à un enfant et une existence paisible après la tragédie de ma vie précédente, j'ai dû faire face à une autre réalité : pourquoi mon mari, réputé froid et abstinent, me réclamait-il sans cesse depuis notre nuit nuptiale ? Et pourquoi personne ne m'avait avertie que les Dragons possédaient deux pénis… tous deux épineux ?