Good Morning Kiss Novels & Stories

When Jeremy Sterling is framed by his rival, he immediately urges me to run for my life. "Save yourself! Pretend you never met me!" Despite being eight months pregnant, I leap from the moving car. I kneel in the snow for two days straight. Finally, I manage to secure a witness for his trial. The ordeal costs me our baby and leaves me with lasting health issues. The radiant principal dancer I once was becomes a frail shadow, gasping at the slightest breeze and surviving on pills. Later, Jeremy claws his way back to the top. He cradles the belly I fought through 18 rounds of IVF to have and makes a solemn vow. "When the baby's born, we'll name him Ryan Sterling. I'll never forget that you saved me." Tears of joy stream down my face. But shortly after I give birth, I overhear someone questioning him. "Mr. Sterling, this is Regina Gomez's flesh and blood. Is it appropriate to register Ms. Jenson as the baby's legal mother?" Jeremy gazes fondly at Carolina Jenson, who is holding our son, and scoffs. "When I was framed, she didn't even care about her own life. Do you really think she'd care about this baby? Besides, she already lost one baby back then. What's one more?" He shrugs. "At worst, I'll just break up with her. We never got the marriage license anyway." Outside the door, I clutch my aching stomach and turn away. Since we're not bound by a marriage license, this is where it ends for us.

“Congratulations, Catherine. You've just become my fiancée.” A sultry smile curved Hunter Thorne's lips as he watched me with his predatory gaze. He was the future Don Cartelli, the purest embodiment of danger, and I was about to become his wife. How was I supposed to know that the hot stranger I kissed in the club was one of the most fearsome men in New York?! Once I realized my mistake, I chose to stay away from him. My fate, however, had other plans… When my quiet little world began to fall apart, this notorious Mafia boss became my only salvation. I needed money and protection, and he needed a wife. This was supposed to be a simple deal, but nothing is ever simple with Hunter Thorne. He's the devil incarnated, and I've just entered his hell. This devil craves my body, heart, and soul… and I'm seconds away from surrendering every last piece of me.

Allysa Hall is a 25-year-old brazen yet beautiful lady. Heir to her father’s big company but due to her elder step-sister’s scheme she lost the favor of her father. She was called many names, the black sheep of the respectable Hall family. She once believed that she was the luckiest girl in the world having both parents that love her, but the moment her mother died everything changed. Her father, Andrew Hall remarried three years after his wife's death and it was the start of Allysa’s nightmare. She was forced to restart her life. Finding relief and temporary happiness she found herself in a cheap bar recommended by one of her friends. She drank and partied till dawn to forget all the bad things that happened. Being single for almost all of her life she decided to make a bold move on the hot guy sitting next to her. “Hi, there! Can you grant this miserable woman who’s never been in a relationship, a favor?” Allysa asked pretty boldly, cheeks flushed red due to alcohol. The man looked up from his drink and saw a drunk lady on his left side. “What?” he asked irritably. “Can I kiss you?” Allysa asked with a grin on her beautiful face. Little did she know that due to her impulsiveness, she had no idea that her miserable life would turn upside-down.

Five years and a divorce paper in my hand before I realized that I invested my time, effort and devotion to the wrong man. Trapped in a corner with nothing left to my name, I was willing to bargain with my ex-husband for my daughter’s sake. But then, a savior, my husband’s new boss came to rescue me from the financial quagmire I was in. He helped me recover what I lost: my dignity, pride and most importantly, he gave me hope. I thought he was the perfect man. But the illusion shattered when his motives came to bite me in the face. He was in this for revenge, and his target was me.

Having an Awakenist as my wife meant enduring her monkish attitude toward sex. We could only be intimate on the sixteenth of every month. Every detail—my position, rhythm, even my expression—had to follow her rigid rules. If I showed too much pleasure, she would immediately rise and leave. We had been married for five years. Was I ever tired of this? Yes. Still, I always gave in. I accepted these limitations because I loved her. "The Saintess loves me too," I told myself. That faith shattered the day I was sent to extinguish a hotel fire. Amid the flames, I found my wife pressed close to a man in disheveled clothes. Between their arms was a young boy.

Everything in Samantha Conners' life seemed to be in a holding pattern. Her sailboat racing season had fallen through, and she was stuck in a dead end job that barely covered the bills. If it wasn't for the fact that her sister and niece were depending on her, she would have never been out on the water the day the billionaire's boat ran her over. Robbie Saunders is convinced that he is the screw-up younger brother of billionaire Jack Saunders. One of his biggest rules was to never go out drunk on the water, but with the impending death of his father, he took the boat out after drinking to try and gain some clarity. Instead, he ran over Sam and barely managed to save her from drowning. While the two had been childhood sweethearts, time and distance had made them into different people. When fate crashed them back together, Robbie finds the fiery young woman to be the person he needs to give him motivation and direction. For Sam, Robbie is growing into the man she always knew he could be. A love blossoms and grows. But what fate can give, it can also take away. A storm during the biggest freshwater sailing race of Sam's career changes everything. Will Sam and Robbie find a way to overcome the storm, or will the two only have memories of freshwater kisses?

What do you do when the mate you love gets another she-wolf pregnant after a drunken night? This is my new reality. In the face of this, he firmly said, "Keep the pup, and we can still go back to how things were." I could not believe my ears. Shaking my head, I asked him to choose. "Between me and the pup, who do you choose?" I said to him. All I got was silence. His blank face broke me. I could not believe he couldn’t answer. But his silence was enough of an answer for me. So I left, and he regretted it.

After my mother shot down my pleas to cover my medical bills the 100th time, I clutched my bone cancer diagnosis papers and trudged to the crematorium. "Hi, I'd like to reserve a cremation slot ahead of time," I muttered to the clerk. Half an hour ticked by before my parents and adopted brother arrived in their car. My dad, a forensic pathologist, cracked me across the face. "You're pulling a fake-death stunt now, just to steal the spotlight from your brother?" My mom, a hospital director, snatched the papers from my hands and shredded them into confetti. "Faking records using my credentials and tying up hospital resources? You've crossed the line!" My brother cried, tugging at their sleeves. "It's all my fault. I'll skip the amusement park forever. I don't need a thing. Just quit riling up Mom and Dad." I spun around, my hand pressed against my throbbing chest, and begged the crematorium staff. "Please, when it's time, cremate me and scatter the ashes in the river. I've got no family left in this world."

By the third year of my marriage to Daniel Hawthorne, the war had already taken more than it ever returned, and this time it took his younger brother, Thomas Hawthorne. My sister-in-law, Eleanor, collapsed, and in the weeks that followed she tried to follow her husband into death— once with sleeping pills, once by the river beyond the officers’ quarters— only to be dragged back both times, each time clinging to me afterward as though I were the last thing keeping her grounded. I stayed with her, wiped her tears, and whispered that Thomas would want her to live, until the day she received the test results confirming she was three months pregnant, and the grief of losing her husband was slowly softened by the arrival of new life. I smiled too, believing grief had finally loosened its grip. That night, holding my own pregnancy test in my hand and thinking it was finally time to tell Daniel, I passed the study and heard his friend say quietly, “She’s carrying your child. You convinced the doctors to adjust the timeline so everyone would believe the baby belonged to your brother. Aren’t you afraid Margaret will find out?” Daniel didn’t hesitate. “She won’t,” he said calmly. “She loves me. She wouldn’t leave. I won’t let her know.” I didn’t step inside. I didn’t confront him. Instead, I opened the letter I had received weeks earlier— an official deployment order from the international medical corps, assigning me to a frontline war zone— and tapped Accept.

On our wedding day, Carter Hall's father took his own life in our new home. He left a suicide note, blaming me for his death. From that day forward, Carter despised me to the core. He said, "Lindsey Thomson, you deserve to rot in hell, atoning for your sins for the rest of your life." Eventually, just as he wished, I wandered the streets, mute and half-insane, living a life worse than a stray dog. But then, he regretted it.