Foul Play In Funland Scooby Doo

Kat Donovan is at the lowest point of her life: she didn't get her promotion, she's never dated a decent man ever, and she's pretty sure she just spent a few thousand bucks drowning her sorrows in a Vegas strip club.The cherry on top? It's also the last day of her life.Death's at her door, figuratively and literally. One of Hell's Punishers is coming to take her away, to an afterlife full of torture and torment. But of course, with the help of some miracles and her ever-steady fighting spirit, she manages to escape its sneaky clutches.And that's how Kat discovers that the Punisher is not anywhere close to what she thought it is.First off, the Punisher is actually the most drop-dead gorgeous guy Kat's ever seen. Two, the 'miracles' that saved her life are not miracles, but clues to the mystery of her origin, to which the Punisher holds the answers. Three, due to some unfortunate events, their paths are now intertwined—for better and (mostly) for worse. And four, their adventures might just open the mystery of life, the wonders of existence, and the endless possibilities of new love....

My husband's childhood sweetheart is a fake heiress. She and I are abducted at the same time. But when my husband, a doctor, arrives at the scene of the abduction with a medical team, he chooses to save her first. My legs have been broken, and I struggle to stay afloat in the ocean. I'm on the brink of death, and I beg him to save me and the child in my belly. He merely looks at me. Before leaving, he almost generously helps me call 911. Then, he says, "It's disgusting that you're lying about being pregnant just to save yourself. I've repaid you for saving my life—come to the hospital later today to sign the divorce papers." After listening to his words, I remove the hearing aid from my right ear with a trembling hand.

"Mom, help! Dad locked me in the car!" It was 2:00 pm in the blazing heat of a summer afternoon, and my heart stopped when I heard my daughter's panicked voice. I immediately began searching for my daughter, but my husband sounded impatient when he answered my call. "Holly's in a bad mood. I'm taking her to the amusement park. Why are you overreacting? She'll be fine." He sounded annoyed and hung up immediately after he was done speaking. The dial tone buzzed in my ear, but all I could think was that he'd better pray nothing happened to her.

My twin sister, wanting to be with her thug boyfriend, secretly planned to apply for a junior college. When I could not talk her out of it, I told our parents and managed to stop her. However, just a month into the new semester, her thug boyfriend cheated on her. She left a suicide note, blaming it all on the long distance between them. She wrote that if she had gone to that junior college, her boyfriend would never have cheated. Grief‑stricken, my parents turned all their rage on me. "You wretched girl, this is all your fault for meddling! What business was it of yours which school your sister went to? Even if she didn't go to college, we could still support her. We didn't need your big mouth!" "If it weren't for your spiteful tongue, your sister wouldn't be dead!" "We were cursed to have a vicious, unfilial daughter like you!" They locked me in her room, ordering me to repent. Then they took her ashes on a trip, saying they wanted her to see the beautiful mountains and rivers she never got to visit in life. A month later, they returned from their travels to find me long dead, starved to a withered husk in front of my sister's photo. Their eyes held no grief, no guilt, only a faint, scornful curl of the lips. In their eyes, my death was nothing more than justice served. My broken soul saw their icy expressions, and despairing tears burned my eyes. Then my sister's familiar voice rang out again: "What business is it of yours which school I go to? You're just jealous that I have a boyfriend, aren't you?"

Leonard Burton and I are childhood sweethearts, bound by a family-arranged marriage. After we marry, we live a loving, harmonious life. In a terrible accident, he even gives up his only chance at survival to save me. After Leonard's death, we find a journal among his belongings. In it, he records the three years he was missing after falling off a cliff—years spent with another woman he deeply loved. But his parents had forcibly separated them and arranged our marriage instead. Unbeknownst to anyone, he had continued to protect that woman from afar, silently and faithfully. At the funeral, Leonard's mother, Charlotte Newman, is inconsolable. "Leonard, it's all my fault. Would you still be alive if I'd let you marry Yelena back then?" His father, Samuel Burton, glares at me with hatred. "He fell off that cliff saving you. He died in that crash shielding you. Why do you bring him nothing but harm? Why aren't you the one who's dead?" Yes, why is it not me who's dead? I look at Leonard's familiar, smiling face on his gravestone before running at it and smashing my head on it. When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to when he just returned from that small fishing village. This time, I choose to let him go and give him what he wants. Finally, I see Leonard again.

Ever since my CEO husband returned from his business trip, he's been acting strange. His hugs are stiff, and his kisses are empty. Even when we're intimate, something just feels off. When I ask him why, he just smiles and says he's tired from work. But everything falls into place the moment I see his first love stepping out of his Maybach, her body covered in hickeys. That's when I finally give up. I don't argue or cry. I just smile… and tear up the 99th love coupon. Once, he wrote me a hundred love letters. On our wedding day, we made a promise—those letters would become 100 love coupons. As long as there were coupons left, I'd grant him anything he asked. Over the four years of our marriage, every time he left me for his first love, he'd cash in one. But what he doesn't know is that there are only two left.

A dying wish has never been ignored, especially one for a second chance. ***** You know what's worse than death? Having the ones you trust the most, betray, forsake, and in the end kill you. All for money. In the past, Anna was labeled as boring, improper, incompetent and was killed by her very own husband and sister without a shred of remorse. Fortunately, the universe granted her a second chance and she was reborn four years in the past when she was unmarried, only this time with the knowledge of the future and the determination to get the revenge she deserves. And when her paths crossed with the rich, bastard and illegally gorgeous, Caspian Riordan who wasn’t just the emperor of the business world but also a stepping stone to her, she snatched him without a second thought. Everyone’s attention flocked toward him, all girls desired to be his, not Anna, not with the signature smirk he passed her every single time. At least, not until he became a stepping stone to her destination. “I’ll cut to the chase. How about, Mr. Riordan, you marry me instead of my sister.” But what happens when this man turns out to be the fantasy she never thought would become real?

Sam is between the living and the dead. When Sam wakes up one day and realizes that her soul is wandering in limbo she will do everything she can to get out of there and come back to life along with the help of Brandon, a 13 year old teenager who has been there for 6 years. When Sam discovers that she has a purpose in limbo she realizes that coming back to life to meet her boyfriend Jay again is hopeless, but she doesn't give up. But she meets Charles Cannadian, a condemned man who deals with taking souls into darkness. Sam hates him from the first moment, what she doesn't know is that Charles was part of her past life and may also be part of her present one. Two loves. One choice: give up living to fulfill her mission in limbo or come back to life to meet her boyfriend Jay.

During an ambush, I risked everything to save Matthew, but in doing so, I lost the ability to stand—my legs were permanently damaged. Matthew was devastated. Holding me close, he swore he would love me forever and never betray me. Overwhelmed with emotion, I agreed to marry him. In secret, I sought medical treatment, and after a long, gruelling journey, the day finally came when the doctor told me I could walk again. Overjoyed, I rushed home, eager to share the incredible news with him. However, the moment I pushed open the door, my world collapsed. Matthew was fooling around with his female assistant—right there in our home. On our bed. Wrapped in each other's arms, they kissed passionately, completely lost in the moment. As things heated up, the woman gazed at him and murmured, "Matt, why don't you just leave that cripple? She can't satisfy you at all." "Don't you love the thrill of sneaking around? It wouldn't be nearly as exciting if I left her." A wave of icy rage surged through me. So that was what our marriage meant to him—nothing more than a twisted game, a joke between him and his mistress. Drained and heartbroken, I turned and walked out. That night, I booked a flight back to my hometown. I was done with this city. Let Matthew live with his regret.

I shivered in the darkness, the air stale, damp and cold making goosebumps appear on my bare skin. The low rumbles and huffs which were coming from behind made me a little scared, and I knew the beast was still there, watching me with interest. I knew screaming and calling for help was futile since my voice was already hoarse for trying to scream the past few hours, but the only thing to be heard was my echo, and the snarl that followed next. I heard it shift and felt it's soft fur brush against my body and skin. I swallowed hard and held in my voice. The more it leaned in, the more my heart beat wildly, and I tried to move away from it. It's warm breath brushed against my cold skin making me shiver in response. I couldn't see but I had an idea what it wanted. I kept resisting but it was much stronger than I was, easily able to pull my thin legs apart. It showed it's dominance as a way to make me submit. I knew I wasn't strong enough to fight or escape it, but that didn't mean I was going to willingly do what the beast said, at least at that minute. But everything changed when I felt it's big head dip between my legs, easily parting them to the extreme, and a rough, yet soft , in my opening. I couldn't help the moan that left my lips. The was long, rough, and filled me to the brim, and that's when I knew I was in . The beast wanted to breed with me.