Novel & Cerita Historical Reads

16+The content contains slightly adult themes (sex, violence, alcohol, gambling, etc) that aren't as graphic as explicit-rated content. Layla Luther is the only daughter, and last child of the Lutheran family, a highly reputed family in the fictional county of Palmdale and beyond. Being the only Omega in the Silver Moon pack, she's often overlooked by her parents, and seen as weak, at the same time, constantly bullied and maltreated by her elder brothers. She soon realizes that her and her supposed mate, Jacob Calvin are not meant to be, since his family pack, known as the Crystal Crescent are actually enemies of the Silver Moon pack, and she is being used as a medium to settle the historical dispute between the two packs. The Silver Moon pack pushes her to the Crystal Crescent pack by telling her she is meant for Jacob Calvin, therefore she belongs to the Crystal Crescent pack. She catches Jacob cheating, and without remorse, he opens up about her not being his actual mate, and was just being used by her family to settle an unending rival, since she's considered worthless. In pain and anger, she leaves Palmdale and heads to Westwoods, where she feels the mate bond, and in no time becomes mated to Alpha Hermes who recently recovered from the grief of loosing his former mate. With the help of Alpha Hermes, she becomes a thoroughly feared Lunar in the county of Palmdale. But things are about to change when her rich family, seeks to come back into her life. It get worse when she realizes that the Silver Moon pack are behind Alpha Hermes grief, as they had slaughtered his former mate and the late Lunar of the Desert Wolf pack. Would she choose the Silver Moon pack over the Desert wolves?

Connie Reid doesn't date athletes. She doesn't talk about her past. And she definitely doesn't play hockey anymore. She built her new life at Crestfield University carefully — warm smile, sharp instincts, a matchmaking reputation that keeps everyone else's love lives running smoothly while her own heart stays locked away. It works perfectly. Until the university board decides her skills belong to them. The deal is simple and non-negotiable: fake a relationship with Kyrian Maddox — Crestfield's most controversial hockey recruit — on a live reality dating show, or watch her most painful secret broadcast to every student on campus. Kyrian Maddox doesn't explain himself to anyone. He arrived at Crestfield already carrying a scandal he didn't cause and a reputation he can't escape. The PR arrangement forced on him is just another thing he has no choice but to endure. The girl they've paired him with is warm, clever and reads people like open books. He finds that deeply suspicious. Off camera they're strangers who tolerate each other in cold silence. On camera they're convincing enough to trend. But the longer they share a house, an ice rink and the weight of secrets neither will speak aloud, the harder it becomes to remember where the performance ends. Then the boy who destroyed Connie's life walks into the show house smiling like no time has passed. And everything she buried starts clawing its way back to the surface. Kyrian notices the shift in her before she can hide it. What he doesn't know yet is that protecting her might cost him everything he came to Crestfield to rebuild. Some performances become real. Some secrets refuse to stay buried. And some people are worth burning everything down for.

It's the tenth anniversary of my bonding with my warrior mate, Owen Chase, and also our son Leo's birthday. A month earlier, I spent $8000 arranging a trip to the Blood Moon Forest. I plan to take my mate and pup to the Moon Goddess' sacred grounds to receive her blessings. This is supposed to be a happy anniversary celebration for our complete werewolf family. I've prepared everything and booked tickets for the Twilight Coach. But on the night before our departure, Owen and Leo suddenly block our mind-link. "Dad and I are having dinner with Ms. Emma on the 24th floor of Moonlight Restaurant. We've cancelled the tickets—we're not going." The call ends there. They promptly block my number as well. I rush back to our pack overnight, only to find that the security system no longer recognizes me. That night, every household locks its doors and activates protective barriers against the toxic mist of the Silver Mines in the nearby Moonveil Valley, while I could only huddle on the stone steps outside our house, inhaling the silver-laden fog all night. The poisonous substances flood my systems. I am sent to the hospital, burning with fever as my wolf grows weaker with every labored breath. Meanwhile, my family is busy touring Central City with Emma Skinner, spending the money I had worked so hard to earn. Owen posts a photo on his social media. In the photo, Emma, my mate Owen, and my child Leo stand hand-in-hand in front of the wishing fountain in Central City, all smiling brightly. The caption reads: "A perfect trip, a perfect family of three." It is only then that I finally understand—this family exists in name only. It's time for me to rebuild my life.

The day before the wedding, I go to the bridal shop to pick up my custom wedding dress. The clerk informs me apologetically, "I'm sorry, Ms. Stone. Yesterday, a woman called Ms. Lovelett came and picked up your dress." My best friend, Sherry Lancelot, suddenly remembers something. "Isn't that the surname of your fiance's secretary? He's so thoughtful. He had your dress picked up in advance for you." But in the next second, Mary Lovelett posts a social media update. In her photo, she is wearing my one-of-a-kind custom wedding dress that is worth hundreds of millions and posing coquettishly in front of the camera. The caption reads, "Zachary is the best boss in the world. I casually said I wanted to take some portraits. He generously bought me a globally limited outfit for a photoshoot so that I can take the photos to my heart's desire!" I look at the post and reply coldly, "That's the wedding dress I personally chose for myself. Since when did it become your photoshoot outfit?" The post is deleted instantly. My fiance, Zachary Everdon, calls me angrily. "What nonsense comment was that? I just lent your stupid dress to Mary for a bit. It's a cheap, one-time thing anyway. I can buy you a dozen more to make up for it." I let out a cold laugh and record the call. Then, I send him a screenshot of the 200 million dollars purchase record. I say, "Sure. Will you pay by check or by direct transfer? Hurry up. Once you pay, we're calling off the engagement."

The moment I find out about my pregnancy, a notification from Twitter is displayed on my phone. Apparently, it's a tweet posted by my husband, Don Romano Caliendo's childhood friend, Teresa Fiorino. "Thanks to your sperm, I get to have a child of my own during the last stage of my life." The accompanying photo is a pregnancy test that clearly states that the sperm donor is Romano. I leave a question mark in the comment section. In just half a minute, my phone begins ringing loudly. Romano's angry voice bursts from the loudspeakers immediately. I've only heard him adapt such a tone whenever he gets mad at others during family meetings. "What did you mean by that comment, Selene Gardo? Teresa is dying from cancer! All she wants is to have a baby to keep her company before she breathes her last! Don't you have any sympathy for her at all?" Before I can put down my phone, my Twitter homepage gets refreshed. This time, Teresa has uploaded another photo. It features a luxurious deluxe-style apartment, where the floor-to-ceiling windows showcase the breathtaking cityscape of Brindleport at night. The caption reads, "Thank you for giving me a home so that I don't feel lonely in my final days." In a corner of the photo, Romano can be seen crouching on the floor while piecing a baby cot together. His side profile shows how focused he is on the task. As I wipe my tears from the corners of my eyes, I silently caress my flat belly, which has yet to show any changes. I'll take you far, far away from here, my dear baby.

After living for over 200 years, Maximilian Knight, the CEO of a Historical Finding company, A shape shifting and powerful Alpha found true love in the sight of one of his Mistress Amelia who works for him as his person assistant in his mansion. Amelia Lane, is a 23 years old young orphan, who somehow found herself working as Maxmillian Knight assistant. Although she detest her job because she feels her Boss, Maxmillian is rude and arrogant. Little did she know that her boss secretly admired and had falling in love with her. Knowing fully well the rules that follows by being a shape shifting alpha, never; to have any affair with any human, which would eventually turn the human he makes love with into a shape-shifter. Maximilian Knight ignoring the rules went ahead and fell in love with Amelia. Forgetting that he also had a one night stand with Grace Monroe in the past which resulted In her giving birth to a baby boy which Maximilian knight had no idea about. Grace Monroe and her son Alexander Monroe came back to hunt him and his lover Amelia. Maximilian Knight, became furious after founding out about his past. He became more angry when he found out that his own son was lusting after his lover Amelia, Maxmillian Knight have to fight his only son Alexander and Grace Monroe for the heart of his new found mistress Amelia. Amidst all of the battle going on among the trio's, Amelia found that Maxmillian Knight was a shape - shifting werewolf, she got scared and began considering whether to still be with him or not. But Maxmillian assured her that he was Going to do whatever it takes to protect her. Alexander's plan take an unexpected turn, when he finds himself falling in love with Amelia.

In the third year of my eating disorder, my husband, Nikolai Hollowell, is the only person who still insists on making me eat. Even when I vomit until I'm a trembling mess, he will make another dish for me again half an hour later. He coaxes gently yet stubbornly, "Have one more bite of the apple slice, Emi." But the moment I smell the food, I throw up again until I can barely breathe. That night, I make another post on X to ask for help. "How is someone with an eating disorder supposed to keep living?" The top comment says, "Get a boyfriend who's a chef! My darling cooks different dishes for me every single day, all 365 days without repeating once. Even the apple slices he cuts are shaped like cute little bunnies, so I absolutely love eating now." Someone replies enviously, "Wow! Where do you find a man like that?" She answers, "Find one? Good men like that no longer circulate on the market. He is actually married. His wife has had anorexia for three years. She has become only skin and bones. "He says just looking at her kills his appetite, and he does not even want to touch her. Well, I'm nothing like her. I always finish every dish he makes." My breathing catches in my throat. This morning, Nikolai personally made bunny-shaped apple slices for me. My fingertips turn cold as I tap into the woman's profile. Her caption reads, "Wow! If your wife won't eat bunny-shaped apple slices, then I will!" Attached is a photo of a man's long, elegant fingers holding an apple slice up to the woman's mouth. And the one reflected in her starry eyes after zooming in—is a face identical to Nikolai's.

My fiance, Victor Blackwood, is a mafia boss who rules the country's underworld with an iron fist. To the rest of the world, he is the epitome of power. Yet to me, he is the embodiment of love. But I do not realize the cost of loving a man like him. On Valentine's Day, I cook his favorite dishes and wait for him to come home. However, time passes, and his chair stays empty. Uneasy, I go to Queenie Stone's social media page. She is Victor's foster sister. She posts, "All I said was that I felt lonely, and he came right away. "Even when I accidentally spilled wine on him, he didn't mind. Victor is still someone who puts family first, even if it means neglecting his lover. "He never lets me down. I hope things stay that way." In the photo, Victor's shirt is soaked at the waist. Queenie's handkerchief lingers near his most private parts, but he doesn't pull away. He merely looks at her affectionately. I do not make a fuss and give Queenie's post a like. Then, I send Victor a message that reads, "Let's break up." Victor ignores it as always. Later, I discover that when my breakup message popped up, he had said offhandedly, "Vivienne can't live without me. She's just acting out. "If I ignore her for a few days, she'll come crawling back by herself. She's easy to please." What he doesn't know is that I was easy to handle only because I once loved him. But now that I have decided to leave, he cannot make me turn back, no matter how he tries to win me over.

The things we want are so very rarely the things we need. Clifton Heights, a modest Adirondack town, offers many unique attractions. Arcane Delights sells both paperbacks and hard-to-find limited editions. The Skylark Diner serves the best home-cooked meals around, with friendly service and a smile. Every August, Mr. Jingo’s County Fair visits, to the delight of children and adults. In essence, Clifton Heights is the quintessential small American town. Everyone knows everyone else, and everyone is treated like family. It is quiet, simple, and peaceful. But shadows linger here. Flitting in dark corners, from the corner of the eye. If you walk down Main Street after dark, the slight scrape of shoes on asphalt whispers you're not alone, but when you look over your shoulder, no one is there. The moon shines high and bright in the night sky, but instead of throwing light, it only seems to make the shadows lengthen. Children disappear. Teens run away. Hunters get lost in the woods with frightening regularity. Husbands go mad, and wives vanish in the dead of night. And still, when the sun rises in the morning, you are greeted by townspeople with warm waves and friendly smiles, and the shivers pass as everything seems fresh and new... Until night falls once more. Handy's Pawn and Thrift sits several blocks down from Arcane Delights. Like any thrift store, its wares range from the mundane to the bizarre. By daylight, it seems just another slice of small town Americana. But in its window hangs a sign which reads: We Have Things You Need. And when a lonely traveling salesman comes looking for something he desperately wants, after normal visiting hours, after night has fallen, he will face a harsh truth among the shelves of Handy’s Pawn and Thrift: the things we want are rarely the things we need. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

I've just received a text from my CEO wife, Cara Lavigne. Apparently, she's gone on another last-minute business trip again, so she can't accompany me to the funeral home. But soon, I see Cara's silhouette being captured in a photo, where she celebrates her assistant, Warren Stone's birthday with him in a work-related post he has just uploaded. The caption reads, "Thank you for the amazing cake, boss! I feel so happy to be able to celebrate my birthday!" I just smile calmly before leaving a like and a comment. "Happy birthday." My colleagues, on the other hand, start betting pools like mad to see what kind of tricks I'm going to pull this time in order to kick up a ruckus. Cara calls me immediately just to scold me. "Warren is just celebrating his birthday, so what's with the comment? He's a very sensitive person, you know! How is he going to survive in this company now that you've passive-aggressively humiliated him in that public post? "It's been barely two years since Warren joined this company, not to mention he doesn't have any friends! What's wrong with me celebrating his birthday with him, huh? People like you, who are born with silver spoons in their mouths, will never understand Warren's plight! "I want you to delete your comment right now! We'll talk more about this once I'm home! Your dad is already dead anyway, so you can just wait for a few more days before claiming his body!" I can only clench my fists tightly as I listen to Cara's heartless and nonchalant words. "No need for that." Once she is back, the divorce procedures will be done.