Good Omens Age Rating Novels & Stories

Don’t stray from the path… When Siorin encounters a mysterious black-haired mage in the forest on her way to the local good-witch, she knows better than to stray from the path. Doing so would be inviting trouble from the fairy brethren with whom mankind shares their world. His plight, however, moves her, and she rescues him despite misgivings. Rivyn has cast a destiny spell which he believes brought him Siorin, so he doesn’t hesitate to steal her, well and truly taking her off her path when he does so. The mage irresistibly draws and seduces Siorin as he leads her on an adventure that transverses their world, encountering all manner of brethren, for Rivyn is on quest is to rebuild his power so that he can return to the Fae Court and reclaim what has been stolen from him. But what Rivyn has lost is not what he needs to seek. Will Rivyn choose his power, or his heart?

Kyra is a resilient, compassionate, yet quite naive nineteen-year-old girl who lived with her father and stepmother ever since she lost her mother. Her stepmother, driven by greed, was determined to sell her off to an old man for money. Due to this pressure, Kyra sold herself to a ruthless billionaire. Will Kyra's sacrifice lead to her freedom, or will it trap her in a cage she can never escape.

Mia, a beautiful and innocent girl, is running away from someone. When she stumbles upon a city, she's determined to have a fresh start. But it isn't as peaceful as it seems to be, as mysteries and murder lurk just beneath the surface. Even more so when she becomes entangled with two men, both hiding something. When the bodies begin piling up, who is to blame? It would seem Mia has never gotten away at all.

Candice had been by Alex’s side since she was eighteen, evolving from just a partner to something more. Power and wealth gave her confidence, which got her thinking she was one of a kind in his heart. However, Alex hired a new secretarial intern, Sonia, who was youthful, naive, and charming. Despite her innocent look, Candice felt threatened; not because of what Sonia might do, but because Sonia reminded her of her younger self, of when she first met Alex.

"You won't expect love from me and will please me whenever, wherever I want." *** What will happen when Christian Elvis, a person with a golden heart tainted black marries Sophie Skye, a normal girl just to fulfill his lust and a promise he made to someone dear to him and turn their marriage which can become salvation for them into nothing but a mere show of lust? They were different, he knew she was his since the moment she was born but she didn't. Even knowing that he began to hate love and turn their bond, which can be the eternal source of gratification into a dusty tomb. Because someone, who isn't meant for him, cheated on him. What will happen now? Can Christian love his wife? Will Sophie allow this marriage to be more than mere contract?

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.

My husband, an anesthesiologist, deliberately increases the sedative dosage on an accident victim so he can get a new heart for his first love, Selena Quigley. After her operation, he cares for her and celebrates her rebirth. He only remembers to contact me after she's recovered. "It's been three months since we saw each other, honey. You shouldn't be mad anymore, right? Why don't you book a flight for tomorrow so you can come home? I'll pick you up at the airport." I won't be going home anymore, though. Not now, not forever. I've already died on his operating table.

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."

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.

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.