Female Shoto

Herbert Fischer lets his precious childhood sweetheart dump scalding stew all over me as everyone watches. Worse, he tells me to apologize, all because I said one harsh sentence to her. Tears stream down my face as I ask him, "Is my life worth less than a hair on her head?" He snorts. "Stop overthinking. It's just hot stew—you won't die from a few burns."

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.]

In this world, there are more ways to deal with a problem than the problem itself. That applies just as well to cheating men. Rich men, especially, will go to absurd lengths just to have more women in their lives. There's no trick too low, no scheme too shameless. Take my boss, for example. He handed over his stunning mistress to me. Honestly, I suspected he couldn't perform in bed, because she came into my bedroom night after night.

Humans are unaware of life beyond Earth in a world where different species reside on other planets. That is until devolving werewolves invade Earth and begin attacking, breeding, and eliminating humankind from one corner of the Earth to another. Caught in the chaos, Kenzie and her family are thrust into a world of uncertainty and danger. As they struggle to make sense of the unfolding events, they find themselves with their backs against the wall, which leads to a chance encounter with Viper. Werewolves have begun to devolve. Stripped of their ability to shift from their wolf forms, they are now driven mainly by their baser instincts. In response, the Lycans, a unique breed of warriors, have been dispatched to exterminate them before they upset the delicate balance on every planet they set foot on. Viper is one of the Lycan warriors dispatched to exterminate a pack. It's while doing so that he lays eyes on Kenzie. He is immediately drawn to her skill and fierceness. Having no choice but to destroy the town after the alpha female gets free, Viper is honor-bound to take care of the little human and doesn't mind one bit. Their relationship blossoms, and they discover and receive things they never knew they needed. Viper finds his little human mate is all he needs to improve his long life, and Kenzie discovers being a Lycan warrior's mate fits like the perfect puzzle piece. Follow Viper, Kenzie, and their families on a journey of healing and new beginnings.

Abhorred and burned to death, a nameless female takes on the identity of another to infiltrate the most prosperous pack in the Northwest. Her plan? Inherit the pack with the protection of her soulmate. Because she has zero faith in the resilience of a chosen mate bond, she never dated a man up to this date. On her 22nd birthday, the pressure on her increases as new foes emerge and old enemies resurface. So when Einas Raed, the Lycan Commander of the Pacific Sea, regrets his choice and asks for a second chance, she grasps the golden branch she believes would be the end to her demons. Not exactly who she claims to be, what will happen when her secret is exposed to the world? ... I am not who I say I am. I copied her face and took her name, then impersonated her to enter the Evergreen Pack. I replaced her in her family and stole her place in her pack. Neither the right to be the Alpha King's Heir nor the privileges of Alpha Malivik's daughter belong to me. Yes, I know. I am a terrible person. I am a thief. An Imposter. This is why the shame of my guilt burdens my heart, and it's eating me from the inside out. The fear of my dirty secret getting exposed has me ardently praying to the Moon Goddess. Because I copied her face, it's only a matter of time before everyone finds out I stole her identity. ... ----------------------------------------------------------- Copyright 2023 All Rights Reserved.

On New Year's Eve, I prepare a feast. The clock strikes twelve, but my husband, Vincent Porter, still isn't home. My daughter, Lorelei Porter, tugs at my sleeve and holds up my phone. "Look Mommy, Daddy is at this lady's house!" Vincent has posted an update on Twitter. He is with Christine Snow, his childhood sweetheart. They are smiling at the camera, with a boy who looks about ten standing between them. In front of them sits a swan-shaped cake. The caption reads, "The most special day for the most special you." My heart sinks into my stomach. A marriage that came later in life can never compete with a pair of childhood sweethearts. I accept defeat.

Albert Roosevelt was the crush I was never meant to have. Like an idiot, I believed loving someone meant giving them everything, even if they didn't care about you. So, I trailed after him like a desperate puppy, bending over backward to meet his every whim. When he couldn't afford tuition, I begged Dad to fund him, sending him to the best schools. When his worn-out clothes made him a laughingstock, I pitied him and showered him with designer labels. And what did he do? He used what I gave him to chase after a gold-digging campus belle. To keep up appearances, he blew through money like it grew on trees. He even spread rumors that he was the real heir to the Roosevelts. To him, I was just an ATM. "Your family's loaded. It's not like you'll miss a few hundred grand. If you're gonna be stingy, maybe you should stop following me around," he said when his wallet ran dry. And like a fool, I believed that if I kept paying, someday, he'd love me back. After graduation, I funded his startup. The second it took off, he married the campus belle. He had the nerve to claim he earned everything through nothing but hard work. So, I crashed his wedding, and he buried a knife in my chest. "Only when you're dead, Eve Roosevelt. Only then will my pathetic past stay buried." When I opened my eyes again, I was face-to-face with a scowling Albert. "You can't scrape together a few hundred thousand dollars? It's Bianca's birthday. Are you trying to humiliate me?" I looked around the room and rolled my eyes. "Sure, I'll pay. But first? Kneel. You look pretty enough. Consider it charity, peasant."

The day my son is born, my husband holds him tightly, looking overjoyed. However, while I'm asleep, he secretly swaps my son with the child next door—his first love's baby. I act like I know nothing and arrange for someone to switch the babies back. My husband wants me to raise someone else's child as my own but has no idea he's not even the father of my son. Ten years later, I transfer all my assets to my son's name as a birthday gift. That's when my husband's first love, Amanda Larkin, crashes the birthday party. She looks at me smugly and says, "The son you've treasured for the past decade is actually mine!"

When my husband Jason Carter’s first love, Renee Lynn, showed up at our doorstep heavily pregnant in my past life, I still refused to divorce him. She was soon accidentally pushed down the stairs by debt collectors, killing both her and the baby. Ever since then, Jason hated me to the core. Not only did he cheat and keep a mistress, but he also conspired with her violent, mentally unstable brother to kill me. Before I took my last breath, he sneered, “You owe Renee a life. It’s time to pay up.” Fine. I must have been blind. After my reincarnation, I decisively signed the divorce papers, abandoned my savior complex, and stopped meddling in others’ fates. If he wanted to be a pathetic simp, I would let him be.

In the sixth year of my marriage with Zach Elroy, his workplace finally allocated us a small, two-room flat. I was overjoyed. I told our daughter she would finally have a bed of her own. But Zach said coldly, "This room is for Jennifer and her daughter. You and Kathy can keep sleeping on the floor." In my past life, we fought bitterly over it. He eventually gave in. But while I was away on a work trip, he went back on his word. He brought Jennifer Cross into our home and made our daughter, Kathy, sleep on the floor. That night, when Kathy came down with a high fever and cried out that she felt sick, he was reading Jennifer and her daughter a bedtime story. Our daughter passed away that night. Now, in this life, I calmly laid out the bedding on the floor and said, "Whatever."