Got Mad King Name Novels & Stories

On my husband's birthday, I poured my heart into preparing a feast and selecting the perfect gift. Yet, he didn't come home. Instead, I received a picture message—a snapshot of him at the hospital, standing outside the OB-GYN ward, his hand resting tenderly on his childhood crush's belly. Beneath the photo, a message read: [The best birthday gift and a symbol of our decade-long bond.] Furious, I called her. "Don't you know he's married?" Before I could say more, my husband snatched the phone and lashed out at me. "Yvonne just wanted to share the joy of becoming a mother. Why are you overreacting? "Yvonne and I have been best friends for over a decade. Your petty jealousy is disgusting!" I once believed his busyness was for our future, but now I knew—he had been busy supporting the girl of his dreams through her pregnancy. Clutching my own stomach, I bit my lip to stop the tears from falling. Ten years of love had drained away. It was time to let go.

Many women dream of marrying the man they love most, having children as a symbol of their love, and making a lifelong promise to stand by each other through thick and thin. But not Sadie. Sadie never believed in what they called love. From a young age, she learned that all men were born liars and deceivers, and no matter how one looked at it, they would always remain the same. She witnessed how her mother's life turned into a living hell because of the mistake of trusting and loving a man. Sadie vowed never to follow in her mother's footsteps—or those of other women who foolishly believed in the opposite sex. She was ready to grow old alone, but there was one dream she longed to fulfill: to have a child of her own. And so, she made a decision—to hire a man who could give her the child she desired. Everything was planned out. All she needed to do was spend a night with a stranger. But what Sadie never expected was the true identity of the man who would become the father of her child—all because of one fateful mistake.

I built them up. I gave them everything. And they destroyed me. I thought love meant sacrifice. I thought friendship meant loyalty. But I was wrong. I bankrolled my boyfriend, helping him rise from nothing, believing in his dreams. I took my best friend under my wing, giving her everything she never had. But while I was away, enjoying a much-needed girls' trip—the one she conveniently backed out of—they were busy betraying me in the worst way possible. I found out by accident. A simple call from his phone, meant to tell my best friend I was back, turned into the moment that shattered my world. "My baby." Those words on the screen made my stomach drop. And then I read more. "I’m just after her money. Once I get enough, I’ll leave her. I’m collecting from her and her father. I’ll use her and dump her." Every message felt like a dagger to my heart. The man I loved, the friend I trusted—they had been plotting against me all along. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I can’t think. I can’t breathe. What do I do? Do I confront them? Do I scream? Do I fall apart? I want to wake up. I want this to be a nightmare. But it’s not. This is my reality. And I don’t know what happens next.

On my birthday, Rowan Shore ditches me for the 99th time to run to his suicidal true love. I tell the system, "I'm done with this mission. I've had enough." For years, I have tried every trick in the book, but I can't win Rowan's heart. The system says that if I die in this world, I'll return to my original one. The first time, I slit my wrists in the bathroom. Rowan kicks the door down, sends me to the hospital, and berates me for using self-harm to snare his attention. The second time, I swallow an entire bottle of sleeping pills. He bursts in at the last moment and sobs while holding me. He says he knows he messed up. There's still a third time, a fourth time, and more, right?

My name is Elena, and I died at twenty-two. My parents forced me to take my foster sister’s place and traded me for a territorial alliance. My mate was the most volatile heir of the wolf packs. Beaten bloody and fading fast, I made my eighth call for help. At my adopted sister Seraphina’s birthday party, she played the recording of my final, groveling plea—and laughed. My parents listened to those desperate calls with nothing but irritation, dismissing each one as theatrics, an inconvenience unworthy of their time. My brother snarled over the phone, “Then just die already!” So I did. In the end, it was my three-year-old daughter who made the final call—using her smartwatch to video my mother, live-streaming the freezer where my severed head lay. Now, my spirit watches from above as they all, one by one, begin to unravel.

I suffer from extreme mental illness. My sister, Ava Monroe, became a facial model to earn money for my expensive medical treatment. She was 5’3” tall but was noticed because of her beauty by a wealthy young man by the name of Dominic Pierce with a leg obsession. He imprisoned her. “This is the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen. If only your legs were a bit longer, I’d die with a smile.” Ava was forced to have leg-lengthening surgery. After the operation, her legs began to rot. Dominic found her disgusting and locked her in the basement. He tortured her until she died. I got kicked out of the mental health institute because I could not pay the medical fees. I found Dominic surrounded by beautiful women with long legs. “Those are the prettiest legs I’ve ever seen. If only your face were a little cuter, I’d die with a smile!” I pointed to the painting of Ava and scoffed, “What if I become her?”

At the end of the year, I went to the spa and discovered a stranger had been using my VIP card. When I logged into my personal profile, the last three treatment records were not under my name. The preference section listed specific details about someone else. She was allergic to rose essential oil, preferred lavender, and her heating pad temperature could not exceed 108 degrees Fahrenheit. Her menstrual cycle fell around the 15th of each month, so no waist or abdomen treatments during that time. I stared at the screen, my palms turning cold. Only my husband, Zachary White, knew this password. At the time, he said he needed it to check the balance and renew my membership. I scrolled down and found a system note at the bottom: [Birthday treatment reserved for December 30, prepared according to Ms. Anderson's preferences.] Today was December 30. My phone vibrated. Zachary had sent a message: [Working late tonight. Won't be home.] Familiar laughter drifted from the hallway. Through the glass door, I watched Zachary walk into the adjacent room with his arm around a woman, the beautician hurrying forward to greet them. "Mr. White, we have Ms. Anderson's birthday treatment ready, just as you requested."

Jasmine Goldwyn was born into power, an heiress to one of the most influential empires in the country, but betrayal shattered her perfect life. First, by the husband she trusted… then, by the best friend she loved like a sister. After a brutal accident that left her unrecognizable and erased her memory, Jasmine woke up in a stranger’s world. Cipher D’Amato who happens to be a cold, calculating billionaire claimed to be her fiancé, married her, and gave her a new name… Sophie. But Cipher’s rescue was no act of love, it was a business move built on lies, secrets, and selfish gain. Now, Jasmine’s memories have returned and with them came with the truth about Cipher, the husband who betrayed her, and the dark conspiracy that nearly ended her life. Cipher thinks she’ll stay. Her ex husband believes she’s dead. They’re both wrong. The Man Who Stole My Name is a gripping dark billionaire romance about twisted love, betrayal, identity, and a woman’s ruthless quest for the truth and revenge.

To save my unconscious Alpha fiancé, I got trapped in a glacial crevasse on the frozen mountain. I tried to reach him through our bond ninety-nine times, but he blocked me out completely. When he finally found me seven days later, his first words were an accusation. "Elara damaged her eyes trying to save me, and you just had to cause trouble right now!" "You're a trained mountain warrior. How could you get trapped in a small crevasse for seven days?" "I've had enough of your games. Let's break off our engagement." He thought I would cry and argue like before. But I just nodded. "Okay." He didn't know I hit my head when I fell trying to save him. In seven days, I would completely forget him. But when I finally left him completely as he'd promised, he went crazy, searching the world and begging me back.

"The world paints him in red. But before that—he only saw the world in black and white." A re-imagining of Emperor Caligula's life, history's infamous mad ruler... Was he made, or was he born? Told from multiple perspectives, Love and Honor explores the violent, intimate bond between a broken prince and the boy who dares to love him. Before the blood, before the madness, there was silence. There was pain. And there was love.