Frankenstein Mary Shelley Summary

Amaryah is an adventurous young lady of an elite clan well-known for cultivating successful followers. For fools who didn't know any better, Amaryah is nothing but a failure. But for people who met her face to face, they know she is never short of power nor is she inferior to others. Even without the aid of an elemental spirit, her techniques and spiritual level are high enough to take any user on one-on-one. However some people may be awed and amazed, hate and displeasure are always inevitable. People who harbor enough hatred would do anything to drag someone down. So once the origins of Amaryah and the history of her family were revealed, she ended up getting executed and burned like how her ancestors met their demise. But this is too abrupt of an ending, and there's a reason why legends are called legends.

Maryuni berasal dari kampung yang jauh di bawah lereng gunung. Dia menikah dengan laki-laki yang berasal dari kota, suaminya mengira dia orang miskin yang gampang di bodohi, apa lagi iparnya. Terlebih dengan rahasia besar yang lama ipar dan suaminya sembunyikan. Mampukah Maryuni membongkar rahasia mereka? Apakah dia bisa melawan saat dia ditindas?

Rosemary is an orphaned werewolf girl with extreme gifts. Taken away from her childhood friend Jesiah who is destined to become the king of werewolf’s. Forced to train to become an assassin for the Vatican to kill their eternal enemy Lucifer. Rosemary finds herself in the middle of romance between Lucifer whom she was sworn to kill and Jesiah her loving mate. Enjoy! Excerpt - With my eyes closed, I stretched my arms to feel silky sheets all around me. Coming to, I remembered blacking out near the river so why am I feeling silk and pillows?!? I shot up and took in my surroundings. I noticed a dagger on the wall. Is this another one of Enora’s drills? I thought feeling confused. Then the flood of memories from the past night hit me. I killed her. I killed hundreds of wolves in training. The realization began to sink in and though they were vile creatures and Enora treated me less than an animal, I felt guilt. Guilt that I gave into the monster they created in me. The nuns, the Order, Enora. They never wanted me alive because they cared for me. They didn’t train me and push my power for the purpose of helping protect myself or others. No, they wanted to use me. The empty angry void in my soul was because of them. I was never nurtured in all my time at the convent nor Enoras prison. I was completely unloved. Though I needed so badly to burst into tears, I couldn’t bring myself to cry. Lost in my thoughts, the door to my left began to open and before my host could walk completely in, I grabbed a chunk full of hair on the top of their head and put my dagger to their muscular neck.

Amarillis had always wished to live a life free of duties, restrictions, and rules that come with being a werewolf. She is a young woman pursuing her ambition of achieving freedom. She despises living under Alpha's claws, which is why she decided to go rogue. She left her pack knowing she would be killed the moment any werewolf laid eyes on her, but she had no idea the werewolf would be none other than Daruis Augustus, the alpha of Demon Pelt pack, which is known for being the most ruthless pack in existence. Daruis is well-known for his hatred of rogues and the brutality with which he tortures them. He regards them as the greatest dishonour to his breed, but the question is, what will he do when he discovers that his own mate is a rogue? Will he deviate from his established rules and welcome her, or will he torture her to the point that she regrets her decision and accepts her fate?

My Alpha mate's childhood sweetheart was a witch. She told everyone my blood carried a Cursed Bloodline — that bonding with Damon would kill him. On our anniversary, she drew a Curse Circle outside my door, claiming it would suppress my dark energy. At our Mating Ceremony, she disguised herself as a server and swapped our Bonding Tokens for a Curse Rune. Every single time, she'd kneel in front of Damon and cry: "I'm only trying to protect you from the curse. Everything I do is for you!" And every single time, Damon went soft. He said she just cared about him too much. Until the eve of our Marking Ceremony, when she drugged me, put on my Luna ceremonial gown, and crawled into Damon's bed. I woke up just in time and reported her to the Pack Enforcers. Damon went straight to the Enforcers' station to get her out, then turned to me and said coldly: "Serena was just trying to protect me. Do you really have to make such a big deal out of this?" Until I bled out during labor and fell into a coma, and she stood over me with tears in her eyes, telling Damon: "Choose me and let her go — this is the will of the Moon Goddess.." I left this world together with the child still in my belly. Then I opened my eyes again. I was back on the day of the Mating Ceremony, and she was about to slip the Hex Rune into our token box. This time, I didn't hold back. I ripped open the box in front of everyone and slapped the rune onto her forehead: "I think the one who needs cleansing is you!"

I am a succubus, and during my heat cycle, I must have sex with a partner to survive. I unexpectedly saved a serpentfolk man, a species renowned in the beast-kin world for possessing the most potent sexual prowess of all. I leveraged the favor to make him help me through my heat as an incubus. But just as I was clinging to him again, scrolling comments appeared before my eyes — and I discovered I was the villainess in a novel. The male lead secretly despised me. The real heroine was about to appear. And once he recovered his memories, I'd be tossed aside. So I decided to divorce him. But my serpent husband didn't seem to agree with that plan.

The tenth time one of my paintings appeared under my sister Rose's name, I handed Adrian the divorce papers. He raised an eyebrow and tossed the agreement aside without a second glance. "Don't be dramatic. Your hand is ruined -- where would you even go without me?" I said nothing. He smiled, his tone dripping with casual indifference. "You should be grateful. Rose was the one I was supposed to marry. A few paintings is a small price to pay. A little gratitude wouldn't kill you." He blew a ring of cigarette smoke directly into my face. I choked, and the sting brought tears to my eyes. Through the blur, I was transported back to the moment my tendons were severed for his sake -- a pain that had drilled straight to the bone. He thought I had no choice but to take it. What he didn't know was that I'd already accepted an offer from the Royal Academy of Arts in London. Soon, I would be free of him for good.

In my fifth year of marriage to Dominic, I'd become the woman all of Chicago knew as the crazy one — the mental case. Jealousy gnawed at me constantly, and my temper frayed easily, my emotions sharp and unsteady, unravelling more with each passing day. So it only made sense when he slid a divorce agreement across the table. "Vivian's pregnant. A Harrington heir can't be born illegitimate, and Mrs. Harrington can't be a lunatic." "Once she's had the baby, I’ll marry you again, and you'll still be Mrs. Harrington." I was forced to sign my name, then locked away in a private sanatorium a hundred miles from the city. The first year, I waited with desperate hope for him to come take me home. Instead, he handed me an ultrasound report. "Twins — a boy and a girl. Vivian's pregnant again. Just wait a little longer." The second year, he had electric fencing installed around the sanatorium grounds. "Harrington Corp is going public. We can't afford any slip-ups right now." By the fifth year, he simply called to tell me to wait one more year. He must have expected me to scream and lose control the way I always did. But this time, I just nodded calmly. "Alright. However long it takes." After all. I didn't have much time left anyway.

I am a top-notch surgeon. But when my ex-boyfriend —— now the Don of the Blackwood family —— was brought to the hospital injured, even the head nurse advised me against taking the case. Everyone said the Dante Blackwood despised me. Because three years ago—the last time we met—I took off my engagement ring and handed it back to him, then got into the car of Dominic, the Don of Mercer family. But I still put on my white coat and walked in. Not only walked in—I pressed my hand right against his stomach without a shred of hesitation. Before the punch came, it was the killing intent in his eyes. "I told you. Touch me one more time, and I'll break every bone in your body." The interns outside the door were all holding their breath for my safety. I adjusted my gold-rimmed glasses and let out a helpless smile. But the moment I undid the buttons of his shirt, even though his mouth told me to get out, his body couldn't help but tense up.

On my wedding night, I was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance after a tampered condom left me in excruciating pain. The surgery took over twenty-four hours, and the story spread like wildfire. My husband, Alexander, let it be known that anyone who managed to photograph me in my post-surgery state would be rewarded with ten million dollars. Overnight, I went from being a billionaire's new wife to the laughingstock of every elite circle in New York. The next day, Alexander's childhood sweetheart Dahlia showed up at my door. That was when I learned the truth: she'd coated the condom with industrial-strength adhesive as part of what she called a "social experiment." She didn't show a shred of remorse. Her tone was flippant and cruel: "It was just an experiment. I mean, how was I supposed to know you'd react like that? Besides, we both know you were never good enough for Alexander. So drop the act." Alexander stood beside her, his gaze cold and dismissive: "If it weren't for the marriage contract, no one would've touched you. You know that, right?" What he didn't know was that the woman he was calling a slut had saved his life more times than he could count.