Gone With Time Novels & Stories

A soul lost in time. A suspended love story filled with yearning and longing. Such is the tale of The lord of the Underworld and his only Beloved. There is a myth about a town every 100 years on Halloween night; demons from the very pits of hell come up to the earth and roam the streets, blending into the disguised populous searching for the perfect bride for their Prince—the Prince of Darkness himself. Although believed to be merely a myth, this tale, though not entirely true, hold some truth. Will the Prince eventually find what he seeks? Will his thirst be quenched and his search over? One can only be that truth within the pages of this unfolding tale.

The day my husband, Stellan Montclair, was killed in battle, my cousin, Daphne Langford, wept and declared she would follow him in death. No one asked for my opinion. By the time I arrived, they had already decided everything. In seven days, Daphne would be laid to rest alongside my husband in the Montclair family crypt, bearing the title of his lawful wife. When I stepped into the chapel, I found Daphne reclining on a cushioned chair with a damp cloth pressed to her forehead while my mother-in-law, Vivienne Prescott, personally spoon-fed her warm broth. Meanwhile, my son, Ansel Montclair, had been kneeling before the coffin for six hours straight, both legs so swollen that they were trembling. No one told him to get up. No one offered him a cushion to kneel on. Vivienne glanced up at me. "You're back. Daphne's being interred in the Montclair crypt as the lawful wife in seven days. See to the arrangements." In my previous life, I did not dare disobey. The entire capital praised Daphne for the depth of her devotion. Vivienne called her a woman of honor. The moment I so much as furrowed my brow, countless mouths stood ready to call me petty and small-hearted. Yet seven days later, Stellan came back from the dead. Only then did I learn that he had taken a death-feigning potion so that he could openly and rightfully marry Daphne. I was cast from wife to concubine and spent the rest of my life crushed under Daphne's thumb. My son was stripped of his status as the legitimate heir, barred from the family title, and left to scrape by among commoners for the rest of his days. This time, though, I was living it all over again. I crouched down and lifted Ansel from the cold stone floor. Then, I looked at Vivienne. "If her devotion runs that deep, let her be buried with him today."

Alpha Ken spent years pouring his heart into his first love, Audrey, and her daughter while treating his true Luna, Kaida, like she was nothing. He ignored their innocent son, little Leo, and let the boy grow up believing his father’s coldness was his fault. Kaida endured it all in silence. She raised Leo alone, wiped his tears, and whispered lies to protect his heart: “Daddy doesn’t hate you.” But when Leo took his final breath without ever feeling his father’s love, something inside Kaida shattered forever. She walked away— No more begging but with so much pain. But after she left Alpha Ken discovered the awakening truth—The only people who ever loved him were the family he destroyed! Now he’s desperate to fix what he destroyed. But Kaida is gone… and she’s in the strong arms of another Alpha, one who sees her worth. Angry, desperate to take back what he claimed was his, he’ll beg, he’ll bleed, he’ll burn down anything in his path but would Kaida return to the love that once shattered her? Or stay with the new man who healed her?

Kathryn Rodriguez loved Mo Co for 3 years, married him for 2 years, but what she received was only lies and suffering. He coerced her, forced her to donate blood to the one he loved, did a lot of evil and unethical things,... Because of him, she ignored many other precious feelings, from her best friend to hers; her family, and most importantly... is the person who truly loves her - Elwyn Holland. After paying off the debt that the other people caused her, she decided to free herself from this painful life, but unexpectedly, she was reincarnated and returned to the time when she was in high school.

I was the person Henry Johnson, the head of the San Nello mafia, loved more than anyone else. He loved me with absolute devotion. During our three years of marriage, he spoiled me endlessly and treated me like a princess. Yet this same man, who claimed to love me so deeply, divorced me three times, each time for the sake of his childhood sweetheart. The first time, intimate photos of them at the airport went viral. That very night, he placed the divorce papers in front of me. "Selena," he said, "Melanie's father once saved my life. I can't allow her to be condemned as a homewrecker. Let's divorce for now. Once this storm passes, we'll remarry." With my heart in pieces, I signed the papers and prepared to leave. However, at the airport, Henry stopped me. He broke down in front of me and begged, "I've already taken care of the media. Melanie has gone abroad again. I've repaid everything I owed her family. Please don't leave. Let's get married again." His tearful pleas softened my resolve. That was the first time I forgave him. The second time, he came to me looking utterly worn out. "Melanie was implicated by her boyfriend and ended up in prison," he said. "I need to bail her out as her spouse. Once she's free, we'll remarry right away." I believed him. That time, he kept his promise. He returned and remarried me. The third time, he lowered his head and hesitated, unable to look me in the eye. "Melanie is about to give birth," he said. "An unwed pregnancy would destroy her modeling career. I have to help her. This will be the last time. Once the child is settled, we'll remarry. I promise this will never happen again." I looked at him for a long time. In the end, I answered softly, "Okay." However, on the day we were meant to register our marriage again, I never appeared. Any love I still had was worn away bit by bit. In the end, I left for good, taking with me not only a broken heart, but also the unborn heir he would never know.

There was only one week left until my marking ceremony with Alpha Mason Wright. And this time, he was asking to postpone it yet again, all because his puphood sweetheart, Eira Padmore, the she-wolf who once saved his life, had another episode. She was in tears, begging to go to Bhador to see the snow, just like every time before, claiming she wouldn't be able to breathe otherwise. The ceremony had already been pushed back three times. All the wolves of the north had been waiting for us to complete it. But I was done waiting, and so was the pup growing inside me. If Mason refused to mark me, then I'd walk away and build my own future. But what I couldn't understand was... Why was it that the moment I left, Mason went mad searching for me, and suddenly insisted on marking me after all?

Everyone she loves could be gone in a minute, and she dreaded it, that's why she'd concealed it. Nobody realized that she was the offspring of the Mark. Yet, Catherine was beyond wretched, how they played her, how she was a pawn. It crushed her faith, lies were told.

Abigail, a struggling writer, time-travels to 19th century France, landing in the lavender fields of Provence. There she meets Vincent, a solitary artist with a mysterious past. Together, they explore the land and inspire each other's work, leading to a passionate, yet doomed, affair. As the hourglass drains, Abigail must choose between her modern life or her love for Vincent in the past

My ex-husband is getting married. and.... I’m the one hired to plan the wedding. My name is Arabella Paloma Garcia. Five years ago, I was arranged to marry an Italian heir with an angel’s face and the personality of something between a blizzard and a natural disaster: Rafael Vittorio Ricciardi. We spent one year of marriage arguing hard enough to make a lawyer retire early. Then his ex came back, and I left with a divorce bracelet on my finger… and a pair of babies in my belly. Now I live in San Francisco. I own a wedding planning company, I’m a single mom to two demon twins, and I’m very, very proud of the fact that the name Ricciardi doesn’t appear anywhere in my life. Until one email lands in my inbox: Ricciardi–Marino Wedding. Groom: Rafael Vittorio Ricciardi. Bride: Alessandra Marino… the woman who once became the reason I got kicked out of his life. I should’ve said no. But Alessandra is infuriating, and I want to prove I’m over Rafael. So I take the job. But he walks in with a cold stare that sends my stomach straight to the floor. No recognition. A helicopter crash two years ago wiped six years of his life. Including me. Including our marriage. Perfect. I’ll plan my ex-husband’s wedding, send him down the aisle, and go back to my life. The plan goes smoothly. Right up until the wedding day. The bride disappears. The guests are waiting. The media is already rolling. And Rafael closes the bridal suite door… drops a bomb that earns him my fist in his face: “You’re the one who going to walk down the aisle with me.”

I died beneath the Ferris wheel. The killer took a photo of the Ferris wheel and sent it to my mother. 'Mom, I want to ride the Ferris wheel with you too,' wrote the killer. In my mother's voice message, her tone was filled with hatred as she replied, "How dare you ask to ride the Ferris wheel with me when you killed your own sister? Why won't you just die?!" As she wished, I was dead. However, what she didn't know was that the one who killed me was my so-called dead sister.