Eat Smarter

I had always shared a perfect relationship with my mother-in-law, Betsy Dutton. We were the model pair of a wealthy family. She and my father-in-law, Rourke Dutton had been childhood sweethearts, their bond seemingly unbreakable. But one day, she told me something that changed my entire perception of them.  She clutched my hand and tears were streaming down her face. “Naomi,” she sobbed, “your father-in-law… he’s been keeping a mistress. They even have a child together! “For over ten years, I’ve been in the dark, made into a laughingstock!” My throat tightened, and I couldn’t hold back my own confession.  “Mom, actually… Julius is no better. He bought a whole apartment building for his mistress!” We wept in each other’s arms, our heartbreak spilling out in waves.  After what felt like an eternity, she sniffled and straightened herself. “Men are utterly unreliable creatures!” “I’m done with that old man, Naomi!” I gripped her hand tightly. “Mom, wherever you go, I’ll follow. I’m done with Julius, too!”

In my previous life, my husband had suddenly died of a brain hemorrhage, leaving behind a massive mountain of debt. For the sake of my son, who was still in high school, I sold the house my parents had left me, gritted my teeth, and worked three jobs to pay off the debt. Overworked and exhausted, my health deteriorated, and I eventually collapsed in the hospital. From my bed, I could hear my son, now a graduate from a prestigious university, smiling as he spoke on the phone. "Hello? Dad, it's me. Yeah, she's about to die. I bought insurance for her, so we should get close to one million. You and Aunt Rena should come back home right away." The "Aunt Rena" he spoke of was none other than my husband's childhood friend and neighbor who had known him for years. It turned out that the debts were all part of a massive money-laundering scheme between my husband and his childhood sweetheart. They had fabricated false accounts to hide their crime, and he had faked his death to escape the law. My son, eager to become the heir to wealth, had stood by and watched me work myself to death. When I next opened my eyes, I was back in the moment of my husband's feigned brain hemorrhage, the day it had all begun.

Vincent is often misunderstood. His reserved and seemingly rude demeanor hides a sensitive soul—especially when it comes to Jason. Jason, the charming, outgoing guy who is loved by everyone, couldn't be more different. He's never afraid to speak his mind, while Vincent keeps his feelings buried deep. Despite their differences, something undeniable simmers between them. Vincent’s secret crush on Jason is a constant struggle, but Jason’s fearless approach to life and to Vincent begins to break down the walls Vincent has spent so long building. As their relationship shifts from constant friction to something more complicated, Vincent must decide whether to let his guard down or keep hiding beneath the surface of his own feelings.

Hi, I'm Lauren Agustin. Seventeen years old and I'm living by myself. My parents were killed right in front of me. But I didn't see the person who killed them because I was blind. After my parents' death, my eyes miraculously healed. However, I started to have a vision of people's death. And then I met Luke. A guy whose death was also seen in my vision after we met for the second time. I told him about my vision of his death but he didn't believe me. Although Luke mistook me as a crazy girl, I still tried every possible way to help him to avoid his death. Luke didn't die because of me, and later on, we developed a special feeling for each other although we sometimes bickered because he doesn't believe in me. I used this ability to warn and save the person who would die next. But in this modern world, who will believe what I say without thinking that I am insane? How did I have this mysterious ability? And will I be able to find my parents' real murderer?

My father-in-law said he wanted to experience "how the young folks have fun these days," so I took him to my wife's newly opened upscale cocktail bar for a quiet drink. I’d just finished ordering him a custom cocktail when a man from a booth across the room swaggered over, glass in hand. His eyes scanned the drink menu on our table, and a condescending smirk twisted his lips. "Only ordering the cheapest well drinks?" he sneered. "Brought the old man here to enjoy the free air conditioning? Trash like you belongs in a dive bar. Who even let you in here?" Anger burned in my chest. I stood up, my jaw clenched. "We're paying customers. What's it to you?" But before I could say another word, his face darkened with pure rage. He snatched the half-finished beer bottle from our table and raised it high above my head. "My girl owns this place!" he snarled. "Even if I crack your skull open, I can afford the payout! You filthy pauper—either get on your knees and lick my shoes dry, or get the hell out of my sight. You're an eyesore." The beer dripped down my face. My hands trembled with fury as I wiped it away. Then, a cold calm settled over me. I opened my phone, switched to the camera, and went live. "Alright, everyone," I said into the screen. "You won't want to miss this. We're going live to catch my cheating wife and see the double life she's been leading."

My first reaction when I encountered the landslide was not to run, but to immediately call Ethan. After all, Ethan always nagged at me, and I can almost hear him saying, "You can't do anything right; I always have to come to help." The phone rang for ages before it finally connected, and by then, the landslide had knocked me to the ground. "Yes? What is with you? Calling eight hundred times a day… Don't you ever get tired of it? I told you I'm working; I don't have time. "Hello? If you're not going to say anything, I'm hanging up. I've got other things to do." Beep, beep! Before I could say a word, Ethan impatiently scolded me. Typical. That had been Ethan Lang's attitude five years into our marriage. He might not have to put up with me anymore after this, though, because I might never see him again......

Ava is on the run for a crime punishable by death: killing a dragon. As a human-dragon hybrid, Ava has never doubted the godlike dragons’ dominance. Her life has been sheltered beneath their stained-glass wings in the city in the sky—until she murders one. Hunted, she flees to the human desert below the floating city. Yet she’s not alone. Though he doesn’t know the crime she’s running from, Vito, the dragon Ava serves, refuses to abandon her to the harsh world of humans. Paired to be her master and she his caretaker, their friendship has always meant more than titles. The desert holds no sanctuary for them. The long-suffering ground dwellers are tired of having their water supply monopolized by the dragons above and want all dragon-kind dead—including Ava and Vito. Surrendering to the dragons isn’t an option with Vito by her side, and the rebellion has offered a tempting deal. They will keep Ava alive and hide her crime, but only if she reveals the weaknesses of dragon-kind and the secrets of her city. Ava must choose between her life and everything she once called home—including Vito, the closest thing to family she has left.

They call me the Heir-Eater. I was meant to be an heir, but everything changed the night I was born. My father, Alpha Cedric, and my pack expected twin heirs. Instead, they found only me. A single child. A girl. A disappointment. They accused me of eating my twin before he could take his first breath. They said I stole his life. The pack that once celebrated my existence turned its back on me. They say I am cursed. My Father stripped me of my name, my status, and my right to belong. Instead of an Alpha’s daughter, He condemned me to a life of slavery. But they were wrong about me. I was never the curse. I am the warning. I am Lyra, the Heir-Eater. And my story is only beginning.

When your billionaire alpha 🐺 only married you for duty, you rejected him and left for good by faking your death When you meet again, his eyes on 🔥. He wants to devour you. But he's interrupted. “Mommy who’s that?” "A stranger." “Say that again? Who am I to her?!”

My husband, Hank, is dead.  On our wedding anniversary, he ventured out in the pouring rain to buy me a cake, only to be hit by a truck. His body was badly mangled in the crash.  My sister-in-law, Lyra, called me a killer, claiming that I did not deserve Hank’s inheritance.  My mother-in-law, Judy, kicked me out of the house.  Overwhelmed by grief and guilt, I often wondered if he would still be alive had I stopped him that day. Eventually, emotions gripped me, and I was diagnosed with cancer.  Judy came to visit me on my deathbed. “You’re an idiot to believe everything!”  She threw a family photo in my face.  The shock and anger were more than I could handle, and I breathed my last.  It turned out that Hank was never dead. He had a child with his old flame.  When I opened my eyes once more, I returned to the day my husband faked his death.