He Hold My Hand Novels & Stories

I dated my lawyer boyfriend for five years. He canceled our wedding. Fifty-two times. First time? His intern messed up some paperwork. He ditched me at the beach to fix it. I waited all day. Alone. Second time, we were mid-ceremony when he bolted. Heard that intern was getting heat from another lawyer and left me to face the guests and their stares. After that, every time we tried again, there was always some "emergency" with her. Always. I finally hit my limit. I was done. Packed up and broke it off. But the day I left Ainsley? He totally lost it trying to find me.

After they pulled me out of the surf, my fiancé, Milo Schneider, looked wrecked—eyes red, breathing all over the place. On impulse, I decided to mess with him. "I think I lost my memory. Where am I?" I kept my face blank. He froze for a second, then shoved his brother, Sean Schneider, toward me. "Sean, take your fiancée to the hospital—now." Yeah. That smile on my face? Gone. Sean pulled me into his arms. "Abigail, I'm your fiancé. Did you forget?"

I died once—on the eve of their wedding. He held her in his arms while the one I loved most shoved me into the firelight. Laughter and the gleam of blood were the final scene before I left this world. But the Moon Goddess seemed to have pity for me. I was reborn and sent back to the point where everything first collapsed—the day my parents forced me to give up the Alpha’s love, forced me to go abroad, forced me to ‘disappear sensibly’ like a joke. My lover texted me to ‘stop fantasizing,’ and had me to watch with my own eyes as he tangled with her. In my previous life I knelt and begged, cried as I explained, begged them to believe in what the Moon Goddess had ordained. This time, I smiled and agreed to every one of their demands. I would go; I would be good; I would be more obedient than anyone. But when I turned back again, I would never beg for anyone’s forgiveness. I would make them watch with their own eyes how the Omega that was trampled into the mud, little by little, tore apart their so‑called destiny and glory.

When Alex loves, she loves hard. So much so that she loses and depletes herself. She's madly in love with newly drafted football star Ezra, who loves her but won't tell that to the world. So she stays through the chaos because of "love", but soon the chaos becomes too much to bear and that has her going downhill. ------- NB: This book will take you on an emotional rollercoaster, maybe even have you really upset with the protagonist. But please be patient with her. She'll get it soon enough.

Tammy, who my husband Steven used to mentor, was in the car crash with me. My liver had ruptured. I was drenched in blood. Steven didn't even flinch. He yanked Tammy out first, and she only had a scratch on her forehead. While I was unconscious, barely hanging on, he was freaking out about her getting a scar. When I came to, completely done, I chucked the divorce papers at his face. He went feral—ripped them up and said I'd only leave him over his dead body. I used to hate when he pulled that line. But now? If that's what it takes, so be it.

The hospital suddenly called to inform me that the kidney I had been scheduled to receive had been transferred—by my husband—to his first love. I confronted him. He replied casually, "It's just one kidney. Are you really in such a hurry? Daphne needs it more, so let her have it first. You're not going to die anytime soon anyway!" I stood there holding the medical report proving he had uremia, and in that moment, my three-year marriage felt like a joke. Fine. He was right. I wasn't the one who was sick—so what was I rushing for?

I was New York’s golden girl, the perfect princess. But for three years, I loved a monster, Don Damien Costello. I finally got the courage to propose. And I found him kissing another woman, Sophia Marcelli, the princess of our rival family. "I'm bored with you, my perfect little doll. I need a real queen. Sophia is the only one fit to be by my side." All of New York was talking. Damien Costello had tossed me aside. So I moved on, Found another man. Left my old self behind. We kissed in a cramped elevator. I did something I'd never dared to do. I just never expected the doors to open. And there he was. My ex. Don Damien. His face was pure murder.

My mother-in-law and I were traveling together. We'd just checked into the Solenne Hotel in Rivera City and decided to hit the pool. Then this woman—dressed like money and attitude—pinched her nose like we stank. "This is a luxury hotel. How did you people even get in? Sneak in just for the pool? Ugh, I need a test after this." Buzzkill. I snapped, "It's a hotel pool. Guests swim. If that's a problem, go build your own." Her face twisted. "Excuse me? Do you even know who I am? My husband owns this place. We always stay in the top suite. So get out. You reek of broke. You're contaminating the water." Georgina and I traded a look. Ice cold. This was her son's hotel. My husband's. Since when did he come with a second wife?

"Tell me, how much do you want me?" "I... I don't know, Prince Gradel." I couldn't think straight, my body ached and my soul sang with an overwhelming need for one thing. His touch. ***** Iris Damine had the whole universe conspiring against her. From being a wolfless omega, to being framed for theft and eventually being sentenced for taking the Prince's heirloom, she had sins stacked against her like a pack of cards. Gradel, prodigal prince of Grey Rock pack and son of Alpha Cronus, has zero interests in anything that concerns the pack. But with his father's health declining and the pack on the verge of collapse, he's charged with new responsibilities. And only the wolfless omega he despises can help him. What happens when their forced union threatens to unravel the other feelings they struggle to hide? Would the moon goddess step in and save them from themselves or would the end of this forbidden romance be filled with heartache and sadness?

When I went to buy a new house, all I found was crumpled newspaper where my savings should've been. I almost called the cops—until I found out Tony Jarrett, my own husband, had blown seven years of my hard-earned cash on a shiny new motorcycle. For Pauline Schmidt. His ex. I asked why. He just shrugged. "She's a single mom. Life's tough. This way, she won't have to walk so much." I wanted to scream, but I swallowed it down. Made him at least get an IOU from her. While I was busy sourcing stuff for the factory, a flood warning hit our town. And Tony? Out buying toy cars with Pauline and her kid. Our son was home alone, trying to stay above water. I was back. Like life hit rewind and dropped me into that exact day. The day he gave her the motorcycle. I saw them—laughing, tight, like their own little picture-perfect family. But I didn't cry this time. Didn't beg. Just turned and walked off.