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After I announced my exit from the music industry, the public response was overwhelmingly positive. The only person who voiced his objection was my girlfriend's rumored lover, the up-and-coming songwriter Lucas Zacker. He put on a show of sincerity in front of a crowd of reporters. "It's all a misunderstanding. Matthew is an irreplaceable talent in the music industry. I sincerely hope he returns to the stage." I shut off my phone and turned a blind eye to his public plea. In my past life, one of my songs had been identical to his supposedly original single. As such, netizens accused me of plagiarism, cursing me and wishing death upon my family. Frustrated, I posted the entire creation process online, but it couldn't stand up to the timeline. His new song had been released ten minutes ahead of mine. Just because of the ten-minute difference, netizens sent me photoshopped mourning portraits of myself and even went so far as to come to my house and vandalize it with paint. The relentless cyberbullying went on for years, and it drove me into a deep depression. My parents exhausted their life savings trying to clear my name, only for crazed fans to set our house on fire, causing my parents to burn to death. In the end, when his song won an award, I jumped off a building. But who would have guessed that when I opened my eyes again, I was reborn on the very day the new song was set to release.

I married Rafe Maretti—the man who owned the Maretti Casino empire. Sophisticated, ruthless, but sinfully charming. By year three of our marriage, I introduced my little sister to his nephew, Adam Moretti—twenty-five, all sharp smiles and sharper ambition. He ran the dirtier side of the family’s business—arms, drugs, the kind of trade that dripped blood and money in equal parts. I married the powerful, irresistible uncle. She married the young, dangerous nephew. It was supposed to be our fairytale. Then one day, I got kidnapped in Rafe’s casino. Snatched by a rival mafia family desperate to force Rafe to sign over one of his biggest, most profitable casinos. Except Rafe didn’t answer the phone or even notice I was gone. The kidnappers grew impatient. First, it was slaps. Then punches. Then they shattered my leg and buried a knife in my stomach. Still no word from my husband. Until finally, after what felt like a hundred unanswered calls, a single message came through. "I’m with Bianca. She’s having a stomach. Stop calling." Once the kidnappers realized I had no value, they dumped me in a rotting warehouse like discarded luggage. It was Isla, my sister, who found me. She got me out. And then the brakes failed. The car spun out. Isla went unconscious beside me. I tried calling Adam. Isla’s husband. But as soon the call went through, all I could hear was. “Leave me along. Isla, I am in the middle of something here.” When I clearly heard a woman’s voice in the back. If not for a passing stranger, Isla and me wouldn’t have made it to the hospital, let along have survived. So when I opened my eyes again, the first thing I thought was: I’m divorcing that sorry bastard. The Maretti can go to hell.

When my son asked me about his father while crying once again, I pointed at the television. Samuel Shaw, who had just made it into the top three of the wealth rankings, was being interviewed. He said he had achieved fame and success, and the person he hated most was his childhood sweetheart and ex-wife. “She abandoned me when I was gravely ill, all for the sake of money. But it was that very betrayal that pushed me to rise from the ashes in my darkest hour.” The reporters grew excited and suggested contacting me on the spot. "She must be filled with regret, begging Mr. Shaw to take her back!" My phone rang right then. I answered and immediately asked for money. "Samuel, my son is sick. Could you lend me sixty thousand dollars?" He abruptly hung up the phone and said with a cold laugh, "Knowing she's living so miserably gives me peace of mind." Looking at the kidney failure report in my hand, I silently wept. Six years ago, I secretly donated one of my kidneys to Samuel. Now, his son was suffering from the same disease and didn't have much time left.

After I became pregnant, my figure changed, and my face grew puffy. My fiancé began to treat me with a subtle, almost imperceptible sense of disdain. When the baby was five months along, it happened to be Valentine's Day. That day, he finally agreed to take our wedding photos, something I'd been hoping for. But just as we arrived at the bridal studio, his phone rang. "Mike, I just got back to the country. My friends are hosting a gathering, and everyone's bringing their boyfriends. Could you come and pretend to be mine?" It was a few short sentences, yet it completely altered the expression on his face. He turned abruptly, stepping out of the studio with a look of urgency. "Lucy's back. I have to go see her," he said. Hearing those words, a fire of rage ignited inside me, one I couldn't suppress. "For her? You're going to leave me here alone?" I demanded. "Do you even know how long I've been looking forward to today? It's Valentine's Day, and instead of staying with me, you're going to be with her?" His impatience flared visibly as I stood my ground. Without a word, his hand pushed me aside, and he strode out of the shop. "We can take wedding photos any day. I'm the only one Lucy has in this country. I have to go see her," he said. Then, gripping my wrist with alarming force, he shoved me, sending me sprawling to the floor. Without a backward glance, he got into his car and drove off. I felt a sudden, wet heat flowing from my lower abdomen. Pain surged through my stomach, sharp and unbearable, as my consciousness started to fade. A wave of despair and terror consumed me. Someone. Anyone. Please save my baby.

After 4 years of being in a relationship, Yngrid's boyfriend broke up with her through phone messages. She decided to go back to the Philippines to fix it. But her life turns upside down when she finds out that he only used her to get closer to his estranged father. But one night changes everything when she meets Orion again, her father's favorite assistant. She hated him to death special his arrogant attitude. But after the kisses they're shared, will it make any changes? Will, she let him fix her heart by letting him love her? Or Would she let go of the past and choose new love?

Just one phone call. One phone call was all it took for Navaeh's Last year in High School to take a drastic change. Who was on the other end of the phone? What are we talking about? The one thing everyone in Silva High doesn't know about Navaeh, their popular, straight A's student is revealed to one person through the phone call. The cherry on top was the fact that it wasn't Navaeh's friend but an old acquaintance was the one that found out. Meet Quinnel Ashford, the Basketball team Captain and Navaeh's infamous old Acquaintance, the person on the other end of the phone. Navaeh didn't see any reason as to why the whole school had to know her own personal issues and so she kept it away from them for the past three years but now Quinnel Ashford knows. The popular bastard. They were friends when they were young, best friends if you may, but all it takes was deceit and... anger for them to break apart. What exactly happened 13 years ago that made Navaeh decide that she wasn't ever going to talk to Quinnel ever again? Now the question was, why did Quinnel Ashford call Navaeh Thatcher that day when they weren't on speaking terms and will he keep her secret from the whole school and let her graduate with no drama or reveal it? But then... The secret is out. Everyone in the school knows. Uh-oh. Who revealed her secret? The one person apart from her two twin younger sisters that knew about it was Quinnel. Will Navaeh find the truth or just blatantly refuse to see anything and turn her back on her new best friend and crush, Quinnel like he had done 13 years ago? Did Quinnel keep her secret till the end?

“Uhumm, can I remove my arms around you now?” suddenly the man who prevented her from falling stated in a mocking tone. Atty. Ninia Salamera’s face grew red with embarrassment. “Oh my, of course, thank you, Sir.” She immediately made herself stand firmly. “Be careful next time; do not use your phone while walking.” He then turned his back and walked in the direction of the CEO’s office. Atty. Ninia was not able to say a word. His face is familiar. “Oh my God!” the woman covers her mouth with her left hand, she knows the man; he was the one who beat her in the recent bar exam. He topped the bar and she only placed second! “What are you doing here Atty. Wilgreg Monaro”, she whispered.

Kiara, a sweet innocent girl, is the president of Walker Entertainment. Noah, cold aloof, and a genuine ruthless, is the CEO Mafia of the Elrod Group. Her happy-go-lucky life got upside down in one night. Today is her engagement day but there she was on a bed with another man. Her boyfriend has been cheating on her. And now she unintentionally got herself a tyrant hubby. 'How long was she sleeping that everything changed so dramatically?' *** -"Sir, madam bumped your new car." -"Hmm, buy her another one." -"Sir, Madam threw her phone and ran away with her friend to go shopping." -"Hmm, get her a new phone." -"Sir, Madam is not eating." -"Cancel the meeting. I'll go and check on her." -"Madam got abducted!" -"Scoff...Tell everyone to get their guns." *** He was everything she never wanted. With him, her peaceful life got disrupted. Her independent life started following his dominant orders. Everyone believes that he is the dominant one, but unknown to them inside that room a wild cat was at loose. Every time he tried to dominate her he faced the consequences too. When two such dangerous people meet, no one knows who is gonna tame the other person? Who will be the winner of this love-hate intense relationship? With him, his risks for her came too. Will she be able to cope with his life? Will she go unscathed when his nemesis would hear about her influence in his life? #Book cover doesn't belong to me.

Richard Franklin has left his Midwestern roots behind to live on the coast of Maine with his family. But in the autumn of the year 2000, he must return to his Illinois birthplace on a sorrowful journey. His wife Michelle has been killed in New England by a hit-and-run driver who is never found, so back home he comes with her cremated remains, to fulfill a final wish and on her birthday scatter her ashes in the park along the river in Blackwater Valley—simply Blackwater Val to locals—the small town where they both grew up and fell in love. With him he brings his six-year-old daughter Katie who still grieves for her lost mother: Katie, who can sometimes guess who’s going to be on the phone before it rings. Who can stop all the clocks in the house, and break up clouds in the sky with her mind, and heal sicknesses, and who sometimes sees things that aren’t there...people who are no longer alive. All gifts she inherited from her mother. Only something isn’t quite right in the Val. Sinkholes are opening up, revealing the plague pits the sleepy hamlet was built over in the 1830s, when malaria and cholera outbreaks ran riot. Mysterious bird and fish die-offs begin to occur, and Katie can see ghosts of the dead gathering all around. But what she can’t see is the charred, centuries-old malevolence which has been waiting for her, and wants her for its very own. Or the pale Sallow Man who haunts the town’s nighttime streets...or the river witch—another Blackwater Val, of sorts—each of whom will be drawn one by one into the nightmarish bloodletting about to take place. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

Despite a decade of marriage, Simon never once shared my bed, claiming that he had pledged himself to ascetic practices and that it was beneath him. I thought that he suffered from some shameful ailment and guarded his secret like a devoted fool, until my birthday, when I came home to find him entangled with a brothel worker before the floor-length mirror. When I lunged forward in rage, he drove a shard of that broken mirror straight through my heart. When I awoke, I was gripping my phone, its screen illuminating a message Simon had just sent: [I’ll still give you a lavish wedding, but the marriage certificate? That belongs to her.]