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Being the best is a requirement for me. When it comes to this, I am the best. Unlike others, I can move quickly. As for me, I'm quite robust. I have a high IQ. Many professional teams are interested in signing me because I am the starting goalkeeper for my high school's soccer squad. My teammates will follow my every order as long as I am captain. Girls urge me to add them to my list of s*x partners. To avoid my father's anger, I just need to make it to the professional league and play for the best team in the world. I am Williams Phanuel, and I have made sure that everything in existence is centered on me. I've got my eye on the new girl in class; it'll only be a matter of time until she succumbs to my charms. This one is more obstinate than others; she won't even give me her name. She has a sharp mind, too. Perhaps too witty for his own good. I simply cannot admit her. No one will get past me. Despite my lack of concern, I must admit that she is distracting me from my objective. Your father will not approve of that. Do I need to reiterate how much I adore the works of William Shakespeare? I'm aware of that. To put it simply, I am a paradox in human form. There are "some born great," "some who make great," and "those who have greatness thrust upon them," as Shakespeare put it. I managed to acquire all three! No one can ever hope to measure up to that.

I hated my husband most in the moment he died for me, swallowed by the flames. Right before he took his last breath, he tore our marriage certificate in half, his eyes burning red. "If there's another life," he said, "I'd rather we never met." My whole body went rigid. Only then did I understand—he blamed me. Ten years ago, his childhood sweetheart and her family had been exiled. She had begged him for help. But that day, he'd gone with me on a trip and missed the chance to save her. And for ten long years, he held that grudge against me. After my husband's death, the world turned on me. Even my in-laws, who had always cared for me, looked at me with pure disgust. "If not for you, Russ wouldn't be dead. We wish you'd never been born!" I couldn't bear it anymore. I ended my life. I never expected that when I opened my eyes again, I would be back on the day Russ Williams came to propose. This time, I would do exactly as he wished. I would give everyone what they wanted.

Sebastian Pena hates me for a whole decade after his true love's death. I try to please him at every turn, but he merely scoffs. "If you really want to make me happy, you should go to hell." That hits hard. However, when a truck hurtles toward me, Sebastian throws himself at me. He saves me, but he dies in a pool of his blood. Before he breathes his last breath, he looks into my eyes and says, "If only… I'd never met you…" His mother is devastated at his funeral. "I should've given Sebastian and Gillian my blessings. I should never have forced him to marry you!" His father resents me. "Sebastian saved you three times—he was a good person. Why weren't you the one who died?" Everyone regrets having Sebastian marry me, myself included. I'm kicked out of the funeral. Three years later, someone invents a time machine, and I travel back in time. This time, I'm going to sever all ties with Sebastian. Everyone will get the happiness they deserve.

"How can there be a perfect choice in this world—one that betrays neither the Sandharan Order nor the one you love?" It's a romantic line, but it has nothing to do with Rosalie Stone. Her fiance, Bradley Wakefield, is a man revered like Sandhara himself, but it's not because of her that he leaves the Sandharan Order. She thinks he will never fall in love. But later, she learns that it's just her that he won't fall for. And so, she gives up on him. She gives herself seven days to forget about Bradley.

Mira Leigh doesn’t have the luxury of falling apart. Not when she’s juggling jobs, raising her teenage brother, and holding together the pieces of a family wrecked by her mother’s addiction. One bad morning, and one delayed coffee order, throws her straight into the path of Cade Reeve. NBA’s highest-paid playboy. Tabloid obsession. Cade is everything she swore to avoid… but when he offers her a job as his personal assistant, the paycheck is too good to refuse. What she doesn’t see coming are the late nights, the blurred lines, and the way Cade can pull her close with one look, only to push her away the next. She’s caught in a game where the rules change without warning. And it’s costing her more than she can afford. Until Zayne Reeve. Cade’s older brother. Two brothers. Two very different kinds of love. One choice that will change everything.

Della's dad was her best friend and her hero, until she decides to marry a man that does not meet his family standards in any way. With his marriage, career, and side hustle all being threatened at the same time, he makes a desperate attempt to "fix" the situation and he winds up opening a magical can of worms, that leads to secrets being revealed, and all kinds of magical mischief, and even a little naughty fun.

He was supposed to heal quietly… not fall for his savior. After barely surviving a bullet to the chest and the betrayal of the only person he thought loved him, Jeremiah wanted nothing more than to disappear and mend in silence and forget. But then Everett Blackthorne shows up. Sharp-eyed, too intense… and too interested. Unsettling Jeremiah in all the wrong ways and making him feel things he doesn’t understand and is too afraid to admit. When dark secrets start surfacing, their connection becomes dangerous, not just for their hearts, but for their lives. Jeremiah has already survived hell once. But this time, it’s not just his past chasing him. It’s something older. Something darker. And it won’t stop until it drags him back.

I ordered an incubus online, but when the package arrived, there were two of them. One was gentle and obedient, the other was hot-tempered and unpredictable. I immediately messaged customer service to ask if they'd sent the wrong one—I had only ordered the gentle kind. The reply came cheerfully. "Congratulations, you've unlocked the hidden variant! This model is a bit special—buy one, get one free!" Wait… what? I remembered hearing people say that raising an incubus is like raising a puppy, only better—they keep you warm at night and don't shed. Well, if that's true, whether I had one or two made no difference. So I ended up paying the price of one and getting two—what a steal! Or so I thought… until I went to feed them. That's when I realized I was the cookie in the middle of a sandwich. Apparently, "keeping me warm at night" was a strenuous activity.

In my tenth year of marriage, my old childhood friend, Joshua Sears, posts a photo on social media. Both Joshua and my wife, Sabrina Lawson, are hugging his son, Andy Sears, and my daughter, Tiana Jenkins, in it. The four of them look very close to each other. The caption accompanying the post says, "Blessed to have the perfect son and daughter." I leave a comment below the post, saying, "Looking good together." A few seconds later, the post is deleted. The next morning, Sabrina rushes home and yells at me. "Ashton Jenkins! Joshua was finally feeling better for once. Why did you have to trigger him again?" Tiana shoves me hard and snaps in an accusatory tone, "It's all your fault that Andy's crying now!" I take out a copy of the divorce agreement and slam it down before them. "Yes, it's all my fault. That's why I'm stepping out of the picture now. Then, the four of you can form the wholesome family you've always wanted."

My African American Mom married a rich Japanese man. As I moved the skeleton of my new bed next to the window, I felt a gaze focused on me. Outside my window, was the house next door. The house shape was similar to ours, so it also had a window facing mine at the same level. Standing there on the other side was a skinny Japanese boy. As soon as I laid eyes on him, he stiffened, then shyly smiled and waved. His hair was all over the place, seeing him in his tanktop I thought to myself that he must've just rolled out of bed. But wasn't it the afternoon already? The boy says something but of course I can't hear him with my window closed so I slide it open. "Eto....hi." He tried in English. If someone were to tell me later I'd come to care about him deeply, I'd find that hard to believe. For as long as I could remember I've always felt empty. And that emptiness, I hid on instinct.