Goku Resting

On the day the privileged heiress, Olivia Cruz, and I register our marriage, she leaves me and Mom stranded on a deserted road before running off to her childhood sweetheart, Brad McCoy. Rage triggers Mom's cardiac arrest, so I call Olivia in anxiety, begging her to come back and save Mom. But she just says a cold line before ending the call, "Not this again. Every time I have to step away, your mom suddenly has heart pain. Your family sure knows how to put on a show, huh?" With that, Mom misses her chance at rescue and dies. That night, a mutual friend posts online. "Growing up together is a whole different kind of bond!" The post shows Olivia perched on Brad's lap with his hand resting on her waist. It's the perfect picture of intimacy that leaves little to the imagination. I expressionlessly tap on the like button before typing my comment. "Is this what you meant by 'something important'?" The friend sneers. "Relax, it's just a game of Truth or Dare. I can't believe you're taking it so seriously." Olivia doesn't even bother to explain, but when I walk away without a word, she finally panics.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, Harrison Drummond arrives with the woman he's been seeing behind my back. Tears fill Kate McCauley's eyes. Before I even have a chance to speak, she drops to her knees in front of me. "Ms. Kershaw, love isn't about who came first or last. Harrison and I care for each other with all our hearts. Please, let us be together." I turn to look at Harrison. With a heavy heart, he lifts Kate into his arms. The man who's always obsessed with cleanliness now wipes her tears away, not caring about the mess she leaves behind. Without raising his gaze, he says, "Kate has been by my side without any official name or title. I owe her that much. Don't worry, she's not after anything else. Having her here is no more than adding an extra pair of cutlery at the table." With that, he carries Kate into the bedroom and closes the door behind them. He seems to have completely forgotten that today is our wedding anniversary. Does he even remember the other woman who followed him without status seven years ago? I stare at the glowing "Happy Anniversary" sign resting on the table. In that instant, I realize there is no future left for us.

My son accidentally ate peanuts and suffered a severe allergic reaction. I threw away all the anti-allergy medication in the house and even hung up when he called 911 for help. I watched helplessly as his airway swelled shut and he suffocated to death. In my previous life, when my son struggled to breathe, I immediately drove him to the hospital. After an intense rescue effort, he survived, and I finally breathed a sigh of relief. However, my mother-in-law stormed in, furious, accusing me of being a monster and blaming me for nearly killing him. I hurried to explain that he was fine. Yet, when I presented the doctor's report and discharge paperwork, I was horrified to discover that they had turned into a death certificate. My son, who had been resting safely in the ICU, was gone. He had somehow appeared in the morgue. Refusing to accept it, I checked the surveillance footage. However, the footage clearly showed that my son never left the operating room. Instead, it was just me, talking to myself the entire time. I had no idea what was happening. No one believed me. They locked me in a psychiatric hospital. In the end, as my condition worsened, a swarm of frenzied patients attacked me and tore me apart alive.

To mend his broken heart and forget his ex-fiancée, Jasson Luther decided to go back to the island of Isla Lutherio, where he was born and raised. Nonetheless, instead of resting and easing his thoughts, he grew more upset and concerned when his heart became engaged again— which is when he met Samara, his lady butler, and personal driver's daughter. How can he manage his unwanted feelings toward a young girl? For heaven's sake, Samara is eighteen years younger than he is. He may be accused of being a cradle snatcher, and he may even be mistaken for a pedophile. And to avoid his unexplainable feelings for the girl, he diverts his attention to others—ladies his age. However, the more he avoids his feelings, the more intense they become. He couldn't stand seeing her dissatisfied and sullen expression towards him. He couldn't help being envious of every male associated with the girl. How long can he hold back his feelings for Samara? Will he be able to let her be with another guy despite their feelings for each other? Or will he be able to fight for his love against Samara’s entire clan?

The night my husband, William Costello, was assassinated by his enemies was supposed to be a celebration—our wedding anniversary. I was dressed in his favorite red dress, waiting for him, when the phone rang. "Mr. Costello was shot at the harbor. The bullet went through the back of his head. He died on the spot." I collapsed to the floor. I clung to his belongings, mourning for a week straight. We even lost our unborn child during this time. Everyone said William and I were true love. Even the Don himself came to the funeral, resting a heavy hand on my shoulder with a sigh. He said, "All of Blackhaven knows you were the only woman he ever loved." Grief nearly destroyed me. I stood at the river's edge, ready to follow William into the afterlife. However, I overheard my sister-in-law, Emily Hawkins, leaning into my brother-in-law, Jones Costello, her voice dripping with a twisted affection. She purred, "William, I love you so much. Between Nina and me, who do you think is sexier?" "Of course it's you, babe!" came the husky reply. I stood frozen, my eyes wide and my body trembling. Why was Emily calling my brother-in-law by my husband's name?

My car was passing by the entrance of the office when I saw both my sisters 'wrestling' vigorously with a bum. I wasn't surprised, however, even recording a video of it and sending it to the biggest news outlet of the country, saying, "I want it seen across the world before 7pm." After all, in my last life, those two sisters were so keen to please Harold Langford that they allowed him to steal my birthright all he wanted. I bore with it because they were family, and ended up resting in pieces. But now that I had a second chance, I would return the favor. At the company gala, Harold once again took my seat as he snorted at me haughtily. "Hmph! If Ellie and Jennie didn't insist on showing you how the world works, a poor college student like you wouldn't even make it through the front door!" "Know your place and don't cause me trouble, or they will have you beaten to a pulp!" Seeing that he was still running his mouth, I kicked him three feet away as I chuckled. "Who do you think you are? How dare you strut when you're just a gigolo who only knows how to please hags!"

This is no ordinary werewolf tale. Romance and fantasy collide with a curse spun from prophecy and obsession. This is a story of torment and resilience. Of wolves and gods. Of a woman broken again and again, only to rise stronger each time. And at the heart of it all… is a love fated by the Moon. If you’re the kind of reader who thrives on slow-burning tension, this tale will consume you. But tread carefully: the deeper you go, the darker it gets. -------------- Alinta Ull, a bookish, headstrong, and haunted werewolf. Since her eighteenth birthday, tragedy has stalked her in a cruel pattern. Every three years, it brings death, rejection, or abandonment. She believes the Moon has cursed her, and… maybe it has. Desperate to escape her fate, she and her fierce wolf, Angela, travel to the rumoured resting place of the Rogue Deity, a mythical werewolf prophesied to rise beneath the eighth crimson moon. Coincidentally, on Alinta’s thirtieth birthday. But fate is a cruel thing. Something, or someone is watching. A wolf obsessed. A monster in disguise. One who has waited years to possess her, and now has no intention of letting go. In a world where devotion becomes delusion, and love becomes a weapon, one truth remains: Some mates are chosen by the Moon. Others are stolen by monsters. -------------- Content Warning: This novel contains dark and mature themes, including sexual assault, emotional and psychological abuse, trauma, captivity, and manipulation. While it ultimately becomes a tale of hope, rebirth, and true love, the road is long, raw, and often tragic. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

Blood poured heavily between my thighs, the metallic scent sharp enough to make my wolf whimper in agony. But the pain that tore deeper into my soul was the sight of my Alpha mate running past me without hesitation, chasing the overturned vehicle that had crashed toward Marina’s white car instead. “Marina!” he roared, his Alpha command raw and furious. A voice he had never once used on me in the five years I had stood beside him as Luna. I lifted my trembling hand, my lips parting in desperation. I wanted to scream that his pup was the heir of the pack, the secret I had protected for years was growing inside me. But he never looked back. He gathered Marina into his arms, his grip fierce and possessive, and carried her away as if she were his true mate. I thought that was the worst betrayal a Luna could endure. I was wrong. When I woke in the infirmary, the bond between my wolf and my mate was eerily silent. No Alpha. No pup. Only the cold scent of blood and a set of rejected papers resting beside my bed. I smiled faintly, my voice no more than a whisper. “This time I will be the one who makes Alpha Declan Jordan kneel until he howls in regret and begs his discarded Luna to return.”

"Sign the papers, Estella." Marco slid the divorce papers across the mahogany table, his eyes fixed on Claudia, who hovered by his side with a victorious smile. "Did you really think a nobody like you could keep me?" Estella's throat tightened as she forced herself to meet his gaze. The diamond on Claudia's finger caught the light—his best friend now wearing what should have been hers forever. "You should be grateful," Claudia murmured, resting a hand on her belly. "Letting you go is the kindest thing we've done for you." When Estella married into the powerful Valdez family, she believed in love conquering all. Instead, she found herself cast out, Helena Valdez herself showing her the door when Claudia announced her pregnancy. Then Alejandro De Luca appeared—Marco's sworn enemy offering an unexpected proposition. "A contract marriage," he said simply. "You get protection. I get revenge." Together, they plotted to dismantle the very family that had humiliated her. With each calculated move, Estella reclaimed pieces of herself she thought lost forever. But revenge is a dangerous game. As their plan unfolded and tragedy struck, Estella discovered that survival meant more than settling scores—it meant learning to wield her pain as power. The quietest heart, after all, often hides the most dangerous storm.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"It's over between us, honey." I said to Clyde, flinging the divorce papers at him. You don't want to be the bad guy, am I right? Well now, you don't have to worry about who the bad guy is." He watched the papers flutter to the floor, dumfounded. They assumed she was still in a coma and so wouldn't see them. Even if she wasn't, this wouldn't be the first time her dear husband would kiss another woman in her presence. She saw nothing. But the slurps and moans woke her from the state of coma. The raptures and gasps had kept her from resting, and their shivers of pleasure caused a tear to drop from her eye. She collapsed making lunch for him. But here he was, making out with a woman she considered to be her best friend. All she could think of was revenge, and she knew who was perfect for the job. Not only was she going to get back at him, she was going to show her true identity now. She comes out of the hospital with his twins inside of her and left him alone with the realization that his life was about to change forever. Whisked away to a different world, Everleigh finds love in the arms of Clyde's arch nemesis. Love, hate, betrayal, resentment, envy and secret babies. It all started with one good kiss on the wrong lips, and a lot of lies to the wrong ears.