Novel & Cerita Homewrecker Book

I was terrified of the thunder, I always hated how it sounded, out on the street, out of my window, and now out of my car. I had nowhere to go, I was a homeless person, living out of a car that have no gas to it, I couldn’t even change places even if I wanted to. This all started few months ago, my last fight with my mother, when she kicked me out of the house, I had my used car keys, a duffle bag with my stuff in it and six dollars in my pocket. I always thought six was a lucky number until I was left with only six dollars, I left the place crying, I had nowhere to go, getting into my crappy car and taking off to the road. I didn’t make it far, just up to an abandoned park, it’s where my ca

It's been ten years since I followed my fated mate, Grace Murphy, into the human world. Her childhood friend, Fred Williams, is dying. His one last wish? To experience marriage. Grace said yes. She told me she wanted to give her wedding to Fred. I didn't cry. I didn't fight. I just smiled, slid the ring off my finger, and handed it back to her. She brought Fred home and said she wanted to give him a home. I said, “Okay,” softly, and stepped aside—clean, neat, no fuss. She wanted to take Fred to Hawaii—the honeymoon destination I'd been dreaming about for years. I still helped her book everything, calm and composed. The day she boarded that plane, I finally answered the summons from my pack.

"You destroyed someone else's family. He was married, yet you were cheap enough to get in his bed anyway. No matter how hard you try, you'll never be more than a stinking homewrecker! Hell has a special place reserved for a bitch like you!" I was taken aback. I hadn't realized Claire could speak like this. But then again, I supported her completely. These weren't her family. They were her curse—selfish pieces of trash who cared for no one but themselves. … Charice shook with fury. "How dare you talk to me like that, you fucking bitch?!" She had little to defend herself with. Her status as a homewrecker was undeniable. The other McKays watched in vile intrigue and morbid amusement.

At least if I die, I was going to die with good clothes. I stared at the sniper scope, on my belly. And I saw movement. The warehouse was loft-style with brown leather couches and rustic tables. It would look like a home for someone ordinary, but I knew that beneath the homey exterior, there was something dark hidden. "We're inside, Miss," a voice said in my earpiece. Chase told me it would be a man named Thomas, one of ours who went with Lucas for the rescue. Just as he said it, four men, one of which was Lucas, came busting towards the door. It slammed open with a loud thud against the wall. They were all holding their guns with suppressors. One man, wearing a black ski mask and carrying a

It was the fortress of a man who spent every waking hour expecting an executioner at his back. In the center of the vast, minimalist living space, the embers of a massive stone hearth cast a restless, deep amber glow across the floor boards. The walls were lined not with art, but with floor-to-ceiling rows of heavily technical books, historical treatises on warfare, and schematics of obsolete machinery. It was a physical manifestation of a mind that never rested—a relentless, hyper-vigilant brain that needed to dissect the world to feel safe within it.

A few late commuters hurried past, but no one paid attention to a little girl pulling a suitcase by herself. The streetlights stretched my shadow and the suitcase's shadow long across the pavement. The truth was, I no longer remembered exactly where the children's home was. I only had a blurry sense that it was somewhere west, so I kept walking that way. By the fourth intersection, my arm ached so badly I could barely lift it. The crosswalk was wide. Halfway across, the suitcase wheel caught in a dip in the road. I pulled, but it would not move. So I crouched down and tried to lift it free.

*Author POV* (Jenny) After the great storm that hit the vipers, they lost some of their treasures, business, goods, and a lot of personnel, pushing every single survivalist to work twice as hard in order to regain their stolen glory. A blonde lady could be seen catwalking towards a stand, dressed in a sexy outfit, ready for her job tonight. "Hi, Ms. Flora." Jenny greeted Flora, who has been ordained as the new head of the girls after Precioux's death.

🌸 Author’s Note – Thank You From the Bottom of My Heart 🌸 I woke up this morning to see that Wreck Me Quietly had been added to 12 readers' libraries overnight. Twelve. That might not sound like much to some people, but to me… it’s everything.