Foto Anime Karma Akabane Novels & Stories

My mother-in-law competed with me over everything. When she found out I was trying to get pregnant, she went as far as to use a folk remedy to get pregnant as well. It was a molar pregnancy, but she still flaunted it in front of me. I told her that it was a medical condition that needed immediate treatment or it could develop into a tumor and endanger her life. Nonetheless, she insisted that she was carrying a few gorgeous babies. I convinced my family to forcefully take her to the hospital, but my mother-in-law never forgave me. She pushed me off a balcony out of hatred, killing me. When I opened my eyes again, I found out I had been reborn on the day she first announced her pregnancy.

The day after my best friend, Sarah Blunt married Patrick, the second son of the Brosnan family, I too became a bride and wed Matthew, his older brother. She married a swimming champion, and I, the rock-climbing coach. We thought we had our futures all figured out. Then, something happened that summer. The four of us planned a getaway but Matthew and Patrick’s baby sister, Megan joined us and our peaceful trip became a crowded affair.  While rock climbing, disaster struck—the rope snapped, and all five of us plummeted into the river below. The brothers rushed frantically to save Megan, leaving Sarah and me at the mercy of the river’s current, battered and tossed like driftwood. By the time the rescue team pulled us from the water, we were bruised, scraped, and utterly spent. In the hospital, Megan and I received devastating news that would change everything.  “You’ve been pregnant for 40 days, Ma’am. How could you put yourself in such a risky situation? Your baby survived, but your friend lost hers.” Shaken, I called Matthew to tell him about the pregnancy. His anger cut through the line. “You’re angry that I went to Megs first and now you’re trying to fool me with a fake pregnancy? She’s my sister—it’s my duty to protect her!” Sarah faced her own storm. Patrick practically scoffed at her grief. “Miscarriage? Do you expect me to believe that? The doctors said you only had a 30% chance of conceiving. I can’t stand women who create drama out of nothing.” Both calls ended abruptly, leaving us stunned as we stared at each other in the sterile light of the hospital room. In that shared silence, we made our decision—we would leave these men behind and start anew, launching a business together. But when the brothers received our divorce papers, they showed up at my door in the middle of a storm, kneeling in the pouring rain, crying through the night for a second chance.

A sexy thriller following a man in his exploits to regain his manhood. Dominique a reformed Jamaican gangster and family man tries desperately to build a business and gain his wife’s respect behind his wife’s back. Dominique Martin is an upward climbing, risk-taking man, seeks to be in sync with his beautiful, intelligent and troubled traditional wife. The story centers on the lives ofof Dominique and Marsha Martin and how the secrets of their past both binds them together while prevents them from being one.

I'm betrothed to Hylton Miller from the moment I'm born. For as long as I can remember, he protects and loves me like I'm already his wife. Even if I get a tiny splinter on my hand, he holds it carefully as he gently clips it away. That is, until the young woman his family sponsors offends a client and is about to be sent to Zubania. He drugs me with a glass of wine. When I wake up, I'm in a foreign country and trapped in an illegal factory. Here, I endure inhuman abuse, torment, even humiliation... At my lowest, when despair almost swallows me whole, that sponsored young woman appears before me in a pristine, custom-made white gown. She smiles sweetly and presses the play button on a voice recording. And from the speaker comes the voice I long for every day and night. "It's fine. Alina's the young lady of the Winslet family—they won't do anything to her. But Priscilla? She's different. Worst case, I'll make it up to Alina when she gets back…" In that moment, it feels like someone tears my heart open with their bare hands.

The girl my family sponsored was a manipulative opportunist. She had my childhood friends wrapped around her finger. I helped her out of pity for her poor background, but she climbed her way up, slowly taking my place. She faked innocence in front of the brothers while sabotaging me behind my back. When they found out, they called me petty rather than blame her. I got fed up, married my college crush, and moved on. But they flew in overnight, begging for forgiveness.

My fiance called me to post bail after he was arrested. When I arrived, however, I was informed that he was caught in a compromising position. "I came to protect Lily because I was worried for her safety," my fiance retorted, putting an arm around her shoulder. "But her boyfriend didn't believe me. Or is it the same for you too? Go post bail already." Nonetheless, I spied the lacy underwear poking out ever so slightly over his belt. In the past, I would have made a scene as I demanded an explanation. But now, I was as cool as a cucumber. When the cops asked what our relationship was, I paused in thought for a moment, before saying quietly, "His employer." Once I signed the papers, I texted my brother: [I'll go on that blind date. Schedule it for three days later.]

"Mom, Dad, I’ve decided to come home for the blind dates you mentioned. I’ll be back by the end of the month." In the early spring, with the lingering chill of winter in the air, Valerie Stonecutter pushed open the door while speaking softly into the phone. Her gentle voice drifted through the rain like a thread weaving through the mist. Pulling her collar tighter against the cold, she heard her parents breathe a sigh of relief on the other end. "Val," her father began, his voice heavy with age. “Your mom and I haven’t been in good health these past few years. So now that you’ve made up your mind, that’s good. When you’re back, I’ll have your Aunt Laura arrange a few suitable candidates for you to meet." Hearing that her parents were already making arrangements for her future, Valerie’s gaze flickered, her emotions momentarily unsettled. After a few more words of small talk, she ended the call. She glanced around her home with a heavy heart, her thoughts tangled in a quiet storm. Then she retreated to her bedroom and began to pack.

The casino my husband and I ran was about to go through a chaotic police raid. Anyone who got caught would likely end up arrested. We had the time to leave. But we couldn’t all leave. One of us had to stay behind, or the cops would keep chasing us. Elias, my charming husband, didn’t even hesitate. He grabbed Mireille and left me to handle the cops, tossing over his shoulder, “I’ll send a lawyer to you.” Lucky for me, I managed to walk away without any consequences. And then, I saw, Elias, the man who was supposed to have my back, not only did escape without me, he also whisked Mireille away to some fancy resort, like they were on vacation. He looked so carefree, so unbothered. Not a hint of concern for the wife he’d just abandoned. “Think Seraphina’s gonna be mad that we left without her?” Mireille asked, all innocence. Elias laughed, that cold, detached laugh that sent a shiver down my spine. “Please. As if she’d ever get mad at me. She can handle herself.” He didn’t care. But you know what? Neither do I. Not anymore.

During a long holiday, my husband booked flights for a family vacation. On the way to the airport, I suddenly saw numbers appearing on everyone’s head. The numbers on my husband’s head indicated sixty years, but my parents and I had only six hours indicated on our heads. While I was puzzled over the meaning of those numbers, I noticed that the driver next to us only had six seconds indicated over his head through the car window. Five… Four… Three… Two… One. When the number turned zero, a massive truck immediately rammed into the car next to us. I saw flickers of fire, flesh and blood exploding before my eyes. People were screaming for help, but I could not hear anything. I trembled as cold sweat drenched my entire body. It was because my flight would be taking off in six hours.

My sister has awakened her mermaid bloodline, but it is incomplete. Her skin is her curse. A single touch, too hard, and it cracks. For her, everything hard in our house has been thrown away. I love to dance, but the hard tips of ballet shoes are forbidden. I love music, but the strings of a guitar or the keys of a piano are too dangerous. Every dream I've ever had has been strangled in its cradle because of my sister's condition. My brother, Liam, who raised us both, always looks at me with tired, pleading eyes. "Elara is fragile, Isla. You have to be understanding." But I was only eighteen the first time I truly understood. I came home from my high school graduation ceremony, the scent of sunshine and excitement still on my clothes. The moment I stepped inside, Elara's hand connected with my cheek. Hard. For no reason at all. Everyone rushed to her. Liam pointed a furious finger at me. "Look what you've done! You've hurt her hand! How could you be so careless?" He shoved me aside and rushed out with Elara to find a doctor. I fell back against the glass coffee table, the impact jarring. And then, a strange, cold pain bloomed across my back. I felt my skin... tear. It was then I remembered the doctor's words from my last check-up: "You carry the Siren's Gene, Isla. It could manifest at any time." As my vision blurred, my own blood pooling on the pristine white floor, I finally understood. The curse wasn't just my sister's. It was mine, too.