Hopeless Masquerade Novels & Stories

After my best friend, Penny Hallmark, found herself a wealthy man, she suddenly became a different person. I had done nothing more than glance at her husband, Martin Rembrandt, yet she slapped me hard across the face. “I treated you as my closest friend, but you dared seduce Martin right in front of me. He’s Chris’s brother! Have you no shame at all?” Her accusation brought tears to my eyes, but Penny resorted to locking me inside a reservoir. “What are you playing at anyway? Fine. Let me give you something to really cry about!” I nearly drowned, and she uploaded photos of me soaked to the skin, claiming online that I was behaving indecently. I became the target of cyberbullying, my boyfriend, Christopher Rembrandt, proposed a breakup, and in utter despair, I decided to end my life. Yet my best friend mocked me coldly. “Do you really think I don’t know your little tricks? You’re just pretending to be pitiful to gain sympathy, aren’t you? “That won’t do at all, Rose. Let me give you a hand!” She pulled out my breathing tube, and only when my life completely slipped away did she smile in satisfaction. “Good. Now I can enjoy both Chris and Martin’s affection.” When I opened my eyes again, I had transmigrated into the body of Chris’s mother, who had just passed away. Given a second chance at life, I was determined to make Penny pay. After all, the man she loved most was nothing more than a hopeless mama’s boy.

Sample: ' “Motherfucking dog is what he is , damn it” she chugged her drink down . She pointed her unsteady hand at her two best friends who were watching the show unfold . “ All men are the same . HEARTLESS CHEATING BASTARDS . Do you hear me? Heartless cheating bastards ” Casey screamed at the men sitting on a nearby table. “Yes, that's what you all are . Cheaters . Bloodsucking vampires, you use women like chewing gum and spit them out after you use them”. She placed her glass with a loud bang , almost falling off the table. She joined her hands while looking up at the ceiling, blinking . “If someone up there is listening, I wish all these men would suffer from crabs so bad , they would scratch it so hard that their dicks will fall off ”. She looked down and pointed a finger at them. “This is my curse on your species ”. She turned back to her friends leaving behind a group of mortified men with wide eyes who were left there holding their junks in fear . ' Casey has always been a hopeless romantic, searching for the one person who will finally return her love. Owen, on the surface, has it all—wealth, fame, and an endless stream of admirers. Yet despite his many conquests, he shuns commitment, refusing to be tied to anyone. When a scandal threatens his reputation, Owen concocts a plan: a fake engagement to Casey, In return, he promises to help her win a man. It soon grows complicated.Owen finds himself unexpectedly drawn to Casey but just when love seems within reach, Owen's past returns—his ex, stirring old emotions and doubts. What happened next read in my book ‘Mr Wrong'

I was born into a line of vampire hunters, but I was hopeless at it. I couldn't pass a single trial, couldn't make a single kill, so my family dumped me in the countryside and left me to rot. When they brought me back at eighteen, they packaged me up and handed me to the vampire noble Lucian von Karstein as his lowest blood-slave. I had already made my peace with being drained dry and tortured to death. He turned out to be nothing like what I expected. He built me a villa with good light. Every morning before dawn he went out to the garden and picked flowers still wet with dew, and left them by my pillow. When his family ordered him to kill me, he gave up five hundred years of glory for my sake. He surrendered his power, his title, his castle. He traded everything he had to keep me safe, and in the end he ran with me, away from the whole vampire world. But there was a curse in my blood. Every time I let myself feel something for him, it punished me, gnawing my heart to pieces one inch at a time. So all I could do was call him useless, force him to buy me jewelry, drive him away from my bed, and humiliate him every way I knew how. He ended up living in the garage, hauling cargo to survive, supporting a spoiled, vicious wife who treated him like dirt. One night I crept into his little partition and pulled back his collar. There was a burn the length of my hand, gotten from hauling freight day and night just to buy me a gift. I hid in the bathroom and ran the tap to cover the sound of crying. Dabbing ointment on the wound, sniffling, I asked the thing in my blood: "Curse. When is he finally going to hate me and leave?" The curse looked at the back of his hand, wet where my tears had fallen, then at the faint tremor of his lashes, and sighed. He's going to love you for the rest of his life.