Female Arms Drawing

Due to one phone call, Carl Lorde left me behind in a deserted area on the highway, even though I had been pregnant for four months. I walked to a rest area to ask for help, but in the end, I was unable to keep the baby. I broke down and called Carl, but he kept rejecting my calls. The next day, his childhood friend posted an intimate photo of them lying side by side in bed, with a caption. [With just one call, you’d come over to my side no matter what.] Everyone was waiting for me, Carl’s girlfriend, to make a joke of myself. However, I just wiped away my tears, liked the post, and commented, [Congratulations, you two are a match made in the trash dump. I hope you rot in hell together.]

“Valerian!” a cry came from outside and my feet rushed to the door, my body having recognised the voice before my brain could comprehend what was happening. I yanked the door open and almost broke down crying at the sight before me, “Queen Lyla!” Bethany gasped from behind me. I scooped her into my arms, my eyes searching for any unwanted presence before rushing her into the living room. “Valerian put me down, we don’t have much time!” she rushed out the command as she struggled to get down. Silently obeying, I put her down, taking note of how she looked and it wasn’t pretty. Her hair, that was always neatly made, looked like a bird’s nest; twigs and leaves hanging from the knots. Her long white sleeping robe dirty and bloody from her waist down, she looked a royal mess; with a bunch of blankets wrapped around her upper half. “My Queen, what happened?” Beth asked as she handed me my medicine bag.

For as long as Chloe can remember, she has been nothing more than a money making machine for Alpha Nathaniel Thorn of the Blue Mountain pack. To be fair, every female is consider no more than an object and a slave. Anyone who can’t serve the Alpha in the way he wants doesn't survive for very long. Dance, strip, sleep, repeat; Chloe doesn’t know any other way of life. But that all changes the night that Lucas Wolfe turns up. Lucas Wolfe has one mission and that’s to bring Alpha Nathaniel Thorn to justice following a months long investigation into the corrupt Alpha. Using his family connections and with the backing of the International Committee for Supernaturals, Lucas is able to infiltrate the Blue Mountain pack. He finds exactly what he needs to bring the Alpha down but what he didn’t count on was finding his mate; Chloe. But something much more sinister is looming over the pack. Girls are turning up dead which initially has nothing to do with the pack or the committee until a supernatural being is found dead for humans to find, opening a can of worms no one is prepared to handle. Meanwhile, someone or something is watching Chloe from the shadows, waiting until the moment is right…

Crystal Lucario Davenport is the only human in a werewolf town. Her parents were on the run from loan sharks and ended up settling down at a weird close knit community in which they had absolutely no idea was a Werewolf town. Rogues infiltrate the town on a particular night and her parents died in the process leaving her to thrive alone in the town. She grew up hating werewolves with all her might, most especially the Alpha whom she blames for the fate of her parents that night. Alpha Damien Colden is a cold, terribly cold Alpha but a wolf that every female wolf can die for and one that every woman wishes to be with for just a night. He thinks he has lived long enough not to worry about a mate because he has every woman he wants at his beck and call. But when his adviser starts to nag him about finding his mate, he gets irritated at the word Mate. And the Pack Council brings up the issue once again, he hesitantly gives in to half heartedly looking for her. He didn't even try for a long time before Crystal comes into his life. With a tub of Ice cream.

Everyone in Sparrowville said that Margaret Chapman was the happiest woman in town. Gavin Hartley showered her with gifts—a sapphire ring, an asteroid after her name—treating her like she was the center of his universe. Margaret had always believed it, too. Until the day she accidentally discovered the woman he had been hiding in his villa. For ten years, he had kept her there—his childhood sweetheart. After she lost herself to schizophrenia, she had said, "Margaret is me." And so, for nearly seven years, Gavin had courted Margaret and cherished her, playing out a love story that had never truly been hers. Margaret's heart crumbled to ash after she found out the truth. She left without looking back, moving to a country thousands of miles away. But she never imagined that Gavin would lose himself to rage, his eyes burning red as he nearly tore Sparrowville apart. "Where the hell is Margaret?!"

My husband's ex, Sarah Miller, once ditched him to chase a rich guy. When she came back, she was crippled, dragging along two scrawny kids. The day I found out I was pregnant, Jake Carter demanded a divorce. "Sarah is too weak to manage alone, and her kids need someone. I've got to step up," he said. I nodded calmly and went straight to the hospital for an abortion. In my past life, I fought to keep the baby and refused the divorce, even exposing Sarah's dirty secrets to the world. Her reputation was ruined. She became a pariah, and eventually, she took her kids and ended it all. In her blood-soaked suicide note, she blamed me for driving her to despair. Thus, Jake hated me to the core. He hired thugs to assault me, posted the video online, and spread lies that I was a cheater. In the end, he threw me and our child into the sea. As I died, he snarled, "This is what you get for killing Sarah!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day he demanded a divorce. This time, I agreed on the spot. Jake was thrilled, dreaming of winning Sarah back. What he didn't know was that, in my past life, I uncovered why Sarah was dumped. Her private life was a mess, and she caught AIDS.

The day I get engaged, my brother brings home a woman who's my age. He says she's his actual sister and accuses me of stealing her life for the past 20 years. Even my fiancé says she's his rightful wife. I'm kicked out of home. Meanwhile, my brother and fiancé take the true heiress traveling. They even give her the villa they had prepared for me. Half a month later, they suddenly remember it's my birthday. To their dismay, they find that they can't see me anymore—I've joined a secret ten-year project organized by the nation. They're supposed to be happy, but they now regret everything.

I was diagnosed with cancer. After much deliberation, I called my husband. He fell silent for a long while. “Most of our mortgage is unpaid, and our children need money for school. You should go for conservative treatment.” I called my mother while weeping. “You’re so troublesome. None of my friends or family have cancer!” I stopped crying and started living for myself. God favored me and let me see reality early in my life. He even gave me a chance to start over.

I'm in the hills for a project inspection when a sudden downpour hits. I lose my footing and tumble down a steep slope. Lying in a pool of blood, I fumble for my phone and call my husband, Joel Grant, who's supposed to be nearby. "Rachel has anxiety. I only brought her back to her hometown to help her unwind. Can you stop being so paranoid and jealous for once? You're due in two weeks. I'll be there, okay? Just behave." In the background, I hear Rachel giggle softly. "The models have to be in their birthday suit for sketching, right?" Joel hangs up without another word. My sister-in-law—and best friend—Chloe Murphy finds me. She's sobbing as she cradles me, desperately trying to call her husband, Michael Grant, for help. "Are all pregnant women insane these days?" Michael snaps. "Don't start with the same manipulative crap as Anna. Joel and I are busy modeling for Rachel. We don't have time for your petty dramas." Then he blocks her. My injuries are too severe. There's no way help will arrive in time. Despite being heavily pregnant herself, Chloe hoists me onto her back and carries me down the mountain to the nearest hospital. Somehow, I survive. My baby doesn't. Chloe, devastated and physically pushed past her limits, loses her child too. "I want a divorce," I whisper with my eyes swollen from crying. "Me too. I'm done with Michael." We filed for divorce together. That's when Joel and Michael finally lose their minds.

At my wedding, the giant screen that's supposed to show our photos suddenly switches to the groom's assistant's prenatal exam report. It clearly shows that he is the child's father. The assistant looks flustered and panicked as she rushes to apologize to me. The groom, on the other hand, stays perfectly calm and offers an explanation like it's no big deal. "I took pity on her because she got pregnant out of wedlock, so I went with her to the appointment and left my name. I'm going to be her kid's godfather, too." The day of her exam was also the day I went for my very first prenatal checkup. Everyone thinks I'll break down, but I simply reach up and tear off my veil. Then, I calmly schedule an abortion. "She really is pitiful, being pregnant without a partner by her side. She deserves this wedding more than I do." Then, I raise my champagne glass to congratulate him. "Congratulations to you both. May your shotgun wedding be a happy one, especially since it's happening with a bun in the oven."