Good Novel Books

Opening my eyes in an unfamiliar place with unknown faces surrounding me, everything started there. I have to start from the beginning again, because I am no longer Ayla Navarez and the world I am currently in, was completely different from the world of my past life. Rumi Penelope Lee. The cannon fodder of this world inside the novel I read as Ayla, in the past. The character who only have her beautiful face as the only ' plus ' point in the novel, and the one who died instead of the female lead of the said novel. She fell inlove with the male lead and created troubles on the way. Because she started loving the male lead, her pitiful life led to met her end. Death. Because she's stupid. Literally, stupid. A fool in everything. Love, studies, and all. The only thing she knew of, was to eat and sleep, then love the male lead while creating troubles the next day. Even if she's rich and beautiful, her halo as a cannon fodder won't be able to win against the halo of the heroine. That's why I've decided. Let's ruin the plot. Because who cares about following it, when I, Ayla Navarez, who became Rumi Penelope Lee overnight, would die in the end without even reaching the end of the story? Inside this cliché novel, let's continue living without falling inlove, shall we?

The night before the annual gala, my wife promised me a big surprise. But the very next day, she publicly quintupled the marketing manager's bonus. To me, she just gave a curt nod and a half-hearted "keep up the good work". When I questioned her decision, she brushed it off casually. "You've racked up some impressive wins in court. I'll give you that, but let's be real. Without Kevin hyping you up, you'd never have hit top-tier status. Plus, what's mine is yours. Why nitpick over a bonus?" The room buzzed with anticipation of my explosion. But I held my tongue till the gala ended. The next morning, I marched into her office and slapped my resignation letter down on her desk. "Might as well tack my salary onto Kevin's. Consider it my wedding present to you." She erupted, branding me as narrow-minded and dooming me to the unemployment line. She conveniently overlooked my track record as a powerhouse attorney. For that alone, elite firms were lining up to recruit me.

My family was supposed to be the richest of the land, yet I had to refund even a cheap delivery. Why? In my previous life, my housekeeper's daughter got her hands on a trading system. Every cent of money I spent would be hers. She started trying to guilt-trip me into donating to all the impoverished students in her school. It was charity anyway, so I signed a check worth 300 grand. The moment I did, that money became part of her savings, and the amount on my check was zero. Everyone called me names, called me a charlatan. Even the boy toy I spent good money on broke up with me. That girl used my money to donate to charities and became the kind and beautiful heiress. She told everyone I was the housekeeper's daughter instead. Furious, I grabbed my black card and started shopping like crazy. I wanted to prove I was the real heiress, but the balance in my account was cleared immediately. That girl then spent 1.2 million right away, like it was one dollar. She scoffed at me. "Don't try to act like you're rich when you're a broke loser. Your mother doesn't make enough as a housekeeper." The Internet decided to hunt me down. I could not handle the stress, and my mind broke. For some reason, my body withered away at a blistering rate. Before my father could save me, I drew my last breath. When I opened my eyes again, I returned to that fateful day. The day the housekeeper's daughter made me donate to the school.

My wife, Charlene Weber, has taken me to the Scumbag Court. If I'm found guilty, all my assets will be taken from me, and I'll face 10 years of imprisonment. Charlene, on the other hand, will get to marry her ideal man—Joel Quinlan—as she wishes. If I'm acquitted of all charges, Charlene will be made to divorce me without alimony. She'll also be cursed with bad luck and disfigured so badly she'll be the ugliest woman in the world. Conversely, I'll be given 10 million dollars in reparations and gain a lifetime's worth of good luck. Everyone is advising me to admit to my mistakes, but only because Charlene has always been a virtuous, devoted wife in their eyes. They think that there must surely be some complicated grievances between us at the moment. However, they are unaware that I've been reborn. This time, I'm going to tear off Charlene's mask of hypocrisy.

Sequel Novel Tante, Mau kan jadi Mamaku? Menurut Kalian, lebih seram mana? Dikejar mbak Kun-kun, poci pake batik, tuyul gondrong, atau ... pertanyaan kapan nikah? Hayoo pilih yang mana? Kalau aku sih pilih .... Kepo, ya? Baca aja di sini ... jangan lupa kasih bintang 5 ya ....

I don't kick up a fuss when Jasper Sutton's childhood sweetheart once again takes my spot in the front passenger seat. Instead, I obediently head to the backseat to sit with his good friend, Jonathan Clayton. When we drive along a bumpy road, my knee brushes against Jonathan's toned thigh. I deliberately leave it there, and he doesn't move. We stop for a break at a rest area. Jasper's childhood sweetheart clings to him as they head to the restroom. As soon as the door is shut, Jonathan grabs the back of my neck and pulls me in for a kiss. As I descend into the throes of passion, I can't help thinking it's no wonder people like to cheat.

Keyra Azzahra, seorang gadis berusia 17 tahun yang masih duduk di bangku kelas 3 SMA, dibawa ke kota oleh ayahnya dengan alasan akan di sekolahkan. Tenyata dirinya hanya akan dijadikan pengganti kembarannya dalam pernikahan yang sudah dijodohkan. Karena diancam menggunakan nama Ibunya, Keyra menuruti kemauan Ayahnya untuk menikah dengan pemuda bernama Abizar Bimantara yang merupakan Ketua OSIS dingin di sekolah barunya. Namun tampaknya Abizar tak suka padanya karena kecewa yang menjadi istrinya bukanlah Keyla, kembaran Keyra. Posisi Keyra seperti kata pepatah “Sudah jatuh, tertimpa tangga pula” Sudah dipaksa menikah tidak dicintai pula oleh suaminya. Lantas apakah hubungan mereka akan bertahan lama? Dan, Bagaimana cara mereka menjaga rahasia pernikahan itu agar tidak ketahuan oleh pihak sekolah?

Rasanya tak berlebihan jika diriku dijuluki sebagai pekerja serabutan. Sebagai sekretaris, aku melakukan berbagai pekerjaan untuk atasanku, mulai dari urusan kantor hingga masalah di rumah. Waktu kerjaku cukup panjang. Pada pagi hari, diriku mengatur keperluan si Bos, seperti menyiapkan baju dan sarapan. Lanjut, siang harinya melaksanakan pekerjaan di kantor. Saat malam, memasak dan menemani lelaki itu makan. Lelah ini dapat kutahan karena bayaran yang didapat juga sepadan. Hingga suatu hari lelaki itu memintaku mengatur kencan buta untuknya.

My wife—Nancy Valente—had been "missing" for three months after some fake skiing accident. I spotted her at a bar. She was draped over Finley Bennett's shoulder, laughing like she hadn't wrecked my life. "Good thing you came up with this plan. I almost forgot what freedom felt like." Her crew kept clinking glasses, asking when she planned to pop back up. She glanced down. "Maybe in a week. I'll show up once he's lost his mind." I stayed in the shadows, watching her bask in her little escape act. Then I grabbed my phone and called a buddy at the Vital Records Office.

I dropped my car off for maintenance at the service center. When it was finished, I told the staff to put it on the tab of my cousin, who ran the shop. The staff member nodded and started to process it, but then the female manager stepped in. "We don't do tabs here. You've got to pay up now," she said, slapping the bill down right in front of me. Premium Diagnostic Scan: $80,000 Exhaust System Sound Enhancement: $100,000 Engine Harmony Calibration: $100,000 Total: $280,000. I laughed at the absurdity. Since when did my cousin start running a rip-off operation? The manager crossed her arms and gave me a snooty once-over. "Always trying to mooch off Chad. I've seen plenty of broke relatives like you. If you can't swing it, don't act like you can." Unwilling to argue with her, I pulled out my phone and called my cousin. "You have ten minutes to fire the manager, or your shop is finished."