روايات وقصص ضمن Handbook Of The Recently Deceased

The supernatural world has been at war with the rogue King, Soren, for ten bloody years. He has amassed an army of wolves, vampires and witches called the Mystics that leave bodies everywhere in their wake. His group of elemental warriors are known as the Realm Assassins, which he uses on special occasions. Recently, Soren has been on the hunt for something more powerful than what he already has in his arsenal, to keep as his queen. What will he find? Killian is the werewolf Alpha to the Nightshade Pack deep in the south of Terra Aasveig. While he is out looking for covens and other packs to ally himself with to face the war ahead of them, he finds something he isn’t expecting. He is taken by surprise when he finds his mate is part of the Timber Coven he is trying to make connections with, but she's no witch. Ember is a powerful fire elemental that helps guard a coven of witches that she has lived with her entire life. She not only has the ability of fire manipulation but can also do basic magic. With her leadership ability, she is set out to be the next high priestess of the Timber Coven. That is until she finds her soulmate right next to her in a battle against a small unit of Mystics that King Soren has sent. Let's go on this adventure together, as we learn that Ember holds a secret that will bring about the death of hundreds but will also save thousands more.

Vendetta is fearless, brave and a well trained CIA officer. She complete her missions smoothly and leave no mistake. "Son of a bastard"She punch the new criminal she caught recently at the query room before walking out leaving the rest to her co-workers. Everything was smooth until her new mission which was the most shocking news to her. "I can't win over them"She tried to explain. Her mission is to get the Cruello de Vil gang member, where plotting someone's assaination is a normal daily duty and no stand against them ever in Las Vegas. But do you think she can actually do it when the new boss of the gang is no other than Rainal O' Brien whose father was murdered by an unknown and he had no choice but to take charge of the gang now. Rainal O'Brien is a rare name everyone feared. He is a monster, cruel and powerful that lurked in all of your worst nightmare and patiently waiting for you to cross his dangerous path. But the gate of hell swing open and hell let loose when they both cross paths and Vendetta was only pretending to be his lover while finding is weakness. Can Vendetta really fight again Rainal? What chemistry can they have? Can she fight over the one she might start to have feelings for?. There is only one way to find out..........

On New Year’s Eve, I made a last-minute decision to get my claws done. The salon was packed, so I had to share a room. The moment I sat down, the woman beside me glanced at me with open disgust. “Get out. I’m allergic to poor people.” The attendant tried to smooth things over. “Ma’am, we’re fully booked today. Please—” But she cut her off coldly. “Do you know the pink diamond Sotheby’s auctioned on Christmas? Worth six hundred thousand.” “Today, I’m setting it into my claws.” She looked at me like I was filth. “With someone like her here, what if she swaps my diamond?” Sotheby’s? My hand froze over the magazine. She smirked and held it out. “Take a good look. Know the difference between you and me before you crawl away.” I glanced once. And recognized it instantly. That diamond… was mine. “I lost it recently,” I said calmly. “Interesting how it ended up with you.” She laughed. “Jealous? My mate gave it to me as a New Year gift.” “You wouldn’t even survive hearing his name.” I smiled faintly. “Try me.” She lifted her chin. “My mate is Kael.” My smile froze. What a coincidence. He’s my mate too. I raised my comm-stone and dialed the patrols. “Hello. I’d like to report a theft.”

**Dez** Dezmond woke in a cold sweat. The ache in his heart was worse than ever before. It had been growing more intense over the past few weeks. He got out of bed and went to the bathroom to wash his face. He didn't bother looking in the mirror, he knew what he would see. His face would be white and his eyes haunted with the need to find answers. Dezmond needed to know why he was being tormented in his dreams. He was never supposed to dream again. "I can't take this anymore." said Dezmond gloomily. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ **Ruby** Ruby couldn't focus in class, another night of tossing and turning. Seeing the flames consume her house. Hearing the screams as her family slowly died, knowing there was nothing she could do. It had been almost three years since the incident. The day she lost her family in the fire. She was the only one who wasn't in the house. And she relived that horror every night in her dreams. Though recently her nightmares felt different. More like a warning rather than a memory. "Rough night?" whispered Haven. Haven had been friends with Ruby since they were little kids. "Yeah, they started happening again." Ruby whispered back. They never really stopped. "Have you talked to anyone about it? Ruby, you can't keep it a secret forever." This is the same discussion they had just after the incident.

Natasha Amery. A sheltered young girl who recently lost her mother. Raising her younger sister, Gia, in hopes to find a better life for the two of them like she promised her mother. She tried her best to escape her abusive father, but the second she turned 18, he sold her to Lorenzo Romano. The most deranged, ruthless man imaginable. Known as the devil on earth. Lorenzo Romano, hands stained crimson red. He had killed more men in his life than everyone in the famiglia combined. He didn't feel emotion. He had killed his brother with his bare hands at just 16. But the moment he laid eyes on her, he felt. He felt emotions he believed weren't real. An overwhelming need to protect her at all costs. She was the only thing that could fix the devil. After vowing to never touch her in order to keep her innocence, his obsession grows stronger. But when Lorenzo's vindictive uncle buys Natasha for him, he does everything to avoid her in hopes to keep her safe and innocent. But when he simply places a mask over his face making her fall into his arms, can he stay away knowing how she truly felt? Their love story was one of death and despair. it was never to happen. love forged in the hands of the devil for an angel. It was like she had broken the devil.

On her first day at work, a new colleague uploaded a 500-million-dollar property purchase agreement to the company group chat. The message was accompanied by the caption: “Thanks for the gift for my first day at work, Dad!” She quickly deleted it, following up with, “Sorry, wrong chat!” I frowned, recognizing the contract immediately. It was the same property my father gifted me for my birthday a month ago. Some sharp-eyed colleagues noticed the contract number and chimed in. “I have a relative in real estate. I remember this property. Our chairman bought it recently!” “So, the heiress has joined us to experience life. Forgive your humble servant for not recognizing you!” The chat was soon filled with flattering remarks. Even my stingy and miserly husband joined in. I felt a coldness in my heart and couldn’t help but respond in the group chat, “I recall the president always opposing ostentatious displays of wealth and advocating humility. This heiress seems to veer away from his usual philosophy.” Instead of support, I faced attacks from my husband and others. “Look at you being so poor and petty. How could you ever compare to Grace? Why did I ever marry someone so shortsighted?” “As if you know the president that well! I think you’re just jealous that Grace was born with a silver spoon!” I sneered coldly and, without hesitation, dialed the president’s number right in front of everyone. “Dad, I heard we’re not that close, hmm?”

The moment I discover I'm pregnant, Courtney Smith, the leukemia patient I saved three years ago, turns up on my doorstep once again. She claims that her leukemia has relapsed again, so she wants me to abort my baby in order to save her life again. But I'm pregnant with my deceased police husband's baby. So, I tell her that I can only donate my bone marrow to her once I've given birth to my baby. After hearing my answer, not only do Courtney and her family not feel any gratitude toward me, but they also berate me for not helping them out till the end. "You can still have another baby once you lose this one! But if your pregnancy affects my illness in any way, will you be able to take responsibility over this?" Then, the Smiths abduct me to a shady hospital, where they forcibly put me through an abortion and remove my bone marrow. While their operation is a success, my baby and I end up dying on the surgical table. As they gaze at our corpses, the Smiths' faces are plastered with icy expressions. "Don't blame us for what we did. If you were the one with leukemia, we'd still make Court donate her bone marrow to you. One's life is determined by fate. If you can't survive, that just means you're fated to die." When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the timeframe three days before Courtney finds out about her leukemia relapse.

My crippled sister, Monica Porter, jumped from the roof of the classroom building. The day before she died, she had just been fitted with the custom prosthetic legs I had paid for with ten years of savings. She was glowing, excited to finally stand up on her own. But my wife's best friend, a guy she said was just like a brother to her, locked Monica inside an empty art room. He smashed her new legs, forced her to crawl on the floor and lick paint clean to retrieve the broken parts, and recorded everything on video. And my wife, a judge, ultimately ruled that the case could not stand. "The video cannot confirm the time it was recorded and may represent consensual performance art between both parties," she said. Sandra Pauley's final judgment was simple. "The deceased had a history of depression. The school and the defendant bear no responsibility." I smiled and cooked her a full table of food. The next day, I hung the bully, Eric Hoyles, from the school's flagpole and livestreamed it to the entire internet. "Honey, remember how you said Monica had such pretty legs?" I raised a claw hammer and brought it down on his ankle. "If you don't hand over the video evidence right now, I'll hook out his Achilles tendon one strand at a time and let him learn what it feels like to crawl!" The wind passed through. His screaming broke apart in the air, mixing with the strained creaking of the flagpole until it sounded almost like music. The live chat went insane. Meanwhile, I laughed until my eyes filled with tears.

At an interview, my husband, Julian White, reveals that he has already allocated his assets properly. The host in charge of interviewing him makes a joking remark that he must have left large amounts of money to his son and wife. With a gentle smile on his face, Julian denies it softly. "I only left them enough money to sustain their lives. The rest of the assets are reserved for my adoptive daughter, Rosy, only. "This is a promise between me and her mom. I had promised her that I'd make sure her daughter would lead a lavish and worry-free life at her grave." When I hear Julian's statement, I pause in my actions of preparing a meal for the children. Then, I look up at the television in disbelief. Meanwhile, Julian is prattling on and on about his deceased first love, Vivian Bennett. Some time later, the host speaks up again. "Does your wife know about this?" Julian is left feeling taken aback for a moment. But his smile doesn't change at all. "She won't disagree with my decision. Over the years, she's been nothing but great to Rosy. Heck, she's even better than most caretakers out there." I take off my apron and walk out of the kitchen. Then, I scoop up my son, Jude White, who's in the middle of picking up toys for Rosy, into my arms and return to my room. It's been six long years, and I've finally had enough with this family. Since Julian doesn't intend to give me and Jude anything, then he can find himself another "caretaker".

In the bustling city of Charles State, the world of high fashion and jewelry is about to be turned upside down. Lydia Josephs, the long-lost daughter of the renowned Josephs family, returns to take her rightful place as the MD of Josephs LIFTX. Her elegance and determination captivate the city, but her arrival stirs up old wounds and hidden secrets. Frank Lanka, the charismatic MD of Lanka CULT, is haunted by the ghost of his past. His deceased wife, Ruth, left an indelible mark on his heart, and he has never been able to move on. When Lydia Josephs steps into the spotlight, Frank is struck by an uncanny resemblance—she looks exactly like Ruth. The lines between past and present blur, and Frank is forced to confront the choices he made eight years ago. Lydia, however, has her own secrets. She is Ruth, thought to be dead in a tragic explosion orchestrated by Frank's ex, Dera Pete. Rescued and given a new identity, Ruth has returned as Lydia to reclaim her life and seek justice. Her heart is set on revenge, but she is also drawn to Frank, the man who once broke her heart. As Frank and Lydia navigate the treacherous world of corporate politics and personal vendettas, their chemistry is undeniable. Frank's proposal of a business alliance with Josephs LIFTX is more than just a strategic move—it's a chance to reconnect with the woman who haunts his dreams. But Lydia is wary, knowing that Frank's intentions may not be as pure as they seem. In a dramatic turn of events, Frank's past catches up to him. Dera's jealousy and manipulation threaten to destroy everything he holds dear. As the tension escalates, Frank must choose between his desire for redemption and his fear of losing Lydia forever.