Heroic Novels & Stories

I was checking out our own hotel. Got hungry, so I snagged a tiny bread roll before my order came out. Then the lobby manager strutted over and slapped me with a fine. "Hi, miss. No outside food. You stayed eight minutes and thirty seconds, spent $150, and your fine's $128,000." I stared at the ticket like, What the hell? Snapped a pic and sent it to the board, tagging my lovely brother: [Getting fined at our own hotel—so THIS is how you're boosting revenue?]

In a luxury boutique, a male influencer and I are eyeing the same watch. I'm about to give it up when I hear the salesperson yell at me in a shrill voice, "Get your filthy hands off it right now! Mr. Parr saw it first. How dare you compete with him? He's an important customer of our store!" I freeze and see Alan Parr staring at me with utter disgust, his arms crossed. "You think a country bumpkin like you deserves that watch? Do you even know how much its accessories cost? A pauper like you definitely can't afford it!" he snaps, then holds up a card and signs the receipt. However, the name he signs is my wife's. The supplementary card he's holding is the one I gave my wife for her allowance.

I had always shared a perfect relationship with my mother-in-law, Betsy Dutton. We were the model pair of a wealthy family. She and my father-in-law, Rourke Dutton had been childhood sweethearts, their bond seemingly unbreakable. But one day, she told me something that changed my entire perception of them.  She clutched my hand and tears were streaming down her face. “Naomi,” she sobbed, “your father-in-law… he’s been keeping a mistress. They even have a child together! “For over ten years, I’ve been in the dark, made into a laughingstock!” My throat tightened, and I couldn’t hold back my own confession.  “Mom, actually… Julius is no better. He bought a whole apartment building for his mistress!” We wept in each other’s arms, our heartbreak spilling out in waves.  After what felt like an eternity, she sniffled and straightened herself. “Men are utterly unreliable creatures!” “I’m done with that old man, Naomi!” I gripped her hand tightly. “Mom, wherever you go, I’ll follow. I’m done with Julius, too!”

My boyfriend, Harvey Seinfeld, got diagnosed with cancer and needed a liver transplant. When I found out I was a match, I didn't think twice. Two-thirds of my liver—gone. The pain was brutal. As soon as I came to, I dragged myself to his room. Right before I walked in, I heard him laughing with his friends. "Harvey, you're a genius for coming up with such an epic revenge plan." He snorted. "If I didn't have to keep it low-key, I would've taken a kidney just for fun. "It's her fault Vivi bombed her art exam and had to study abroad. Vivi's coming back next month. That's when I'll be done with her for good."

My cousin, Vincent Walker, has fallen in love with Rova Thornwick, the chieftess of a cannibal tribe in Ambryndel. He insists on dragging the entire family to the tribe just so they can sort out the details of his wedding. Little do we know that Vincent has screwed up on the very first day. He accidentally mistakes the tribe's Divine Goblet for a toilet bowl due to his ignorance toward the rules. Vincent and his family are worried that they might get in trouble, so they flee from Ambryndel overnight without letting us know. As a result, my family and I get tied up by the furious cannibals. Later on, we are roasted to death over the fire pit. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Vincent insists on traveling to Ambryndel to marry Rova.

My husband and I have been legally married for five years. This is the tenth time he's canceled our wedding ceremony. This time? His student, Laura, is competing in her first international violin competition—and he 'needs' to be there. I still remember the last cancellation: an awards ceremony he had to attend with her. The time before that? She fell ill, and he stayed at her hospital bedside. The other times? I've lost count of the excuses, but it doesn't matter. The reason is always Laura. Her needs always outweighed my wedding. My marriage. My life. Fine. If he wanted to stand by Laura so badly, he could stay there forever. This hollow, five-year farce of a marriage? It's over.

On my birthday, my husband of five years accompanied his childhood sweetheart to celebrate her dog's birthday. Avery Simpson published a loving post: [The happiest baby in the world. Mom and Dad will be with you. I hope you're always happy.] Seeing the words "Mom and Dad", I commented a question mark with confusion. The next moment, I found myself blocked. Charles Logan called me and lashed out at me. "Why do you always have to mess things up at the worse possible time? You're worse than a dog. How despicable!" Shortly after, Avery changed her profile picture to one of her and Charles, hands intertwined. When I saw the obvious provocation, I didn't get angry like before. That's because I had already made up my mind to get a divorce.

My fiancee was diagnosed with cancer and needed a liver transplant. When I found out I'm a match, I agreed to undergo the surgery without a second thought. They removed two-thirds of my liver. The pain is excruciating, but the moment I wake up, I force myself to check on her. Outside her hospital room, I overhear her talking to a friend. "Trish, you're a genius! This revenge plan is brilliant!" her friend exclaims. Patricia Zeller laughs. "If I weren't trying to keep it low-key, I would've taken a kidney just for fun. It's all his fault that Warren messed up his college entrance exam and had to study abroad. Warren's coming back in a month. Once he does, I'm done with him for good."

The Sutton heir was using a wheel of fortune to pick a wife. In my last life, the wheel landed on me. On my wedding day, the woman he had loved his whole life threw herself off a cliff into the sea. That was when I learned. Fifteen years of him chasing me had been about getting her to look back at him. There were thirty-six other names on that wheel. All of them were there to push her into a corner. After she went, he came apart. "I only wanted to make you jealous. Why would you leave me like this?" He blamed all of it on me. He took apart what was left of my body with his own hands. In my last minutes I saw her come back, untouched, and tell him it had only been a test. They held each other and kissed. I went into a jar nobody noticed. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the day of the wheel.

At the company's celebration dinner, the new HR guy slapped a bill on the table—$860 for A/C and venue costs from our last all-nighter. I shot a look at Sherry—my girlfriend, my boss—thinking she'd have my back. Nope. She latched onto HR's arm and said, "Quentin, this isn't your daddy's company. Quit freeloading." And just like that, nine years of busting my ass for this company, and turns out—I was the discount item on the menu.