Horror Story Settings

My best friend, Sienna Monroe, who always swears she'll never marry, goes with me to the fertility clinic and suddenly snatches away the donor profile I choose. That's when I know she has come back to life too. In my previous life, I wanted a mixed-race baby, so I chose the IVF route. Sienna mocked me, saying I'd just be raising someone else's child. But two weeks later, I was taken to the royal palace of Valoria. It turned out the donor I picked was none other than the Prince of Valoria, a man of eight national lineages. He not only insisted on marrying me as his princess but also promised that our child would inherit the throne. The baby and I were cherished by the entire royal family, so much so that the jewels they draped over me nearly bent my back. Meanwhile, Sienna flaunted her extreme feminist stance and offended business partners. In the end, she was fired and blacklisted across the industry. Sienna spent all her savings on a plane ticket to attend my party, where I would introduce my baby to everyone. But when I went to welcome her, she crushed my son to death in her hands and splashed concentrated acid on me. "You don't deserve such good fortune! You worthless witch!" But when I opened my eyes again, I had gone back to the day I asked her to go with me to the fertility clinic.

I'm rejected after asking for my boyfriend's hand in marriage for the 99th time. To my devastation, he turns and proposes to my best friend. I storm over to his office to demand an answer, but I hear them making out. My boyfriend says, "Don't worry. She offered herself to me in bed several times, but I've never touched her." I head home and trash the place. When I run out of strength, I make a call. "I'll marry you, Spencer." Since the man I chose doesn't love me, I'll now go for someone who does.

Past thirty, my usually serious husband suddenly developed a fascination with pink. The dark-colored furniture that had stayed the same for ten years was replaced with pink; even the utensils he picked up casually were pink. I stared at the line of pink pajamas, pink bow ties, and pink underwear hanging out to dry on the balcony, feeling something was off. "I thought you said you hated pink—that it was a color only women liked?" He was unpacking a new pink bed set and didn't even look up. "Oh, Jack and I made a bet. If I can replace everything in the house with pink, he'll give me his seaside villa for free. Honestly, after looking at it for a while, pink isn't that bad, don't you think?" I neither agreed nor disagreed. Instead, I called Jack, who blurted out, "What seaside villa? I don't remember ever buying one!"

My boyfriend's childhood sweetheart bound herself to a transfer system: everything she ate would be redirected straight into my stomach. She opened a streaming account and broadcast herself eating for twelve hours straight. She earned a fortune. Meanwhile, I collapsed with acute pancreatitis and was rushed to the hospital. When I explained the situation to my boyfriend, he only stared at me like I was insane. "How could something that absurd exist? If food could really be transferred, no one in the world would ever starve. You're just jealous that she's making money from streaming." After that, every time his childhood sweetheart went live, I ended up hospitalized again. I kept hovering between life and death. I sought medical help, but the doctors couldn't explain my condition. Some even wanted to commit me to a psychiatric ward. Then, one day, in order to outdo her rivals in a PK match, she devoured ten pounds of rice in a single sitting. At that very moment, my spleen and stomach ruptured, and I bled to death on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of her very first livestream. This time, I was prepared. I rushed out and bought twenty takeout meals. "This time," I said, "I'll eat first."

"Chloe, when you were younger, our family arranged a marriage for you. Now that you're almost recovered from your illness, would you be willing to return to Kingston City and marry?" "If you still don't agree, I'll talk to your father and cancel the engagement." In the dimly lit room, Chloe could only hear silence. Just as the person on the other end of the line thought they would not be able to convince her, she suddenly spoke up. "I'm willing to go back and get married." Her mom, Felicia, froze, clearly surprised. "You... you agree?" Chloe's tone was calm. "I agree, but I still need a little time to wrap things up in Marina City. I'll be back within two weeks. Mom, please go ahead and start preparing for the wedding." After a few more words, Chloe hung up the phone.

Three years after graduation, I was waiting tables at a restaurant when I happened to run into some of my old classmates having a private dinner there. The moment they saw me carrying trays, they burst out laughing. My old rival Elliot sneered that I was a useless nobody, then pulled out 50 bucks and tossed it in front of me, telling me to lick the food scraps off his shoe. "Clean my shoe, and that fifty's yours!" Even my ex-girlfriend joined in to humiliate me. "I can't believe this is what you've become three years after graduation, Chase. Good thing I dumped you when I did—I'd hate to be the girlfriend of some broke loser." Elliot and a few others pinned me to the floor, forcing me to kneel and even bark like a dog. My ex clapped her hands, laughing. "Chase, you really do look like a dog when you're on your knees." Then, the restaurant manager rushed in. The moment he saw me, his face went pale with shock. "M–Mr. Levine… are you all right, sir?" Blood dripping down my forehead, I pointed at everyone in that room. "No one leaves this room tonight."

After my fiance’s childhood friend found out I was born with a heart condition, she secretly poured a high-dose energy drink into my champagne. The moment I drank it, my heart started racing, and stabbing pain spread through my chest. In a panic, I tore open my only emergency medication, but the water I used to take it had been swapped with strong lemon water. As soon as I drank it, my face went pale. I lost all strength and collapsed to the ground. “Lemon water’s full of vitamin C. It helps with hangovers and keeps you healthy.” Charlotte Whitmore laughed so hard she nearly doubled over. With her arms crossed, she looked at my fiance, Ethan Cross, the boss of the Rolling Stones. “Ethan, your fiancee’s acting is incredible! “I’ve been a doctor for years, and I’ve never seen anyone react like this to a little champagne and lemon water.” I bit my lip until I tasted blood. The pain made my eyes sting, and I clutched Ethan’s leg. “Honey, please, call an ambulance! I can’t take it anymore…” For a moment, his expression wavered, but the guests quickly cut in. “Come on, stop pretending! Nobody dies from a bit of champagne and lemon water.” “Yeah, you’re just jealous Charlotte got promoted and didn’t want to toast to her.” Ethan’s face turned cold again. He yanked my hand off and stepped away. “Charlotte’s a doctor. You’ll be fine with her here.” I stopped begging and texted my father asking for help.

My brother-in-law, Benjamin Fallow, got trapped in a deep pit, so I grabbed some ropes and risked my life to climb down and pull him out. Just after I tied the rope around his waist, the line went slack and we both came crashing down. When I looked up, I couldn't believe my eyes. My wife, Celeste Fallow, had cut the rope. Meanwhile, her childhood friend, Vincent Jameson, grinned and egged her on. "Do it." Black-clad bodyguards started shoveling sand into the hole, trying to bury us alive. I grabbed the walkie-talkie and screamed up at her, "Celeste, your brother and I are still down here!" She sneered back. "Three years ago, during the quake, you left Vincent's brother trapped under the rubble for five days while you saved others. Now it's time to pay what you owe." Vincent shed crocodile tears and crowed, "Celeste, thanks to you, my brother's revenge is finally complete." With the sand already up to our ankles, I shouted at the top of my lungs, "Celeste Fallow, your brother is really down here with me!"

The company holds a management meeting. My wife's secretary, Lisa Carter, is checking IDs at the conference room entrance. She greets everyone who enters with a warm smile. But when it is my turn, she lets out a scornful laugh. I frown and pull out my Cybersecurity Department Manager's ID, but she doesn't even glance at it. "Mr. Torres, Ms. Shaw took pity on you and made you a manager. Do you really think you're somebody important?" I ignore her and dial the CEO's direct line instead. "Someone's saying my position is just charity from you. Is it true?"

WHAT STARTED OUT AS A LOVE STORY, SOON BECAME A HORROR STORY! When nineteenth century Montana rancher, Ian Murray, discovers a naked and bloodied woman on his newly acquired property and takes her home to tend to her, he had no idea what would follow. Nor did he know that his property once had a settlement called Muddy Creek, but it and its residents were destroyed by marauding outlaws and its remains never tended to by anyone afterwards. Finding the settler's bones strewn all around the burned buildings, he ordered his men to clearing things up, But, he had one little problem. Not only was the place was haunted by the angry spirits of the poor settlers, but the woman he'd rescued was possessed by a succubus who was after his soul. With Ian caught in a web of evil ghostly lure, his men seek the help of a Blackfoot medicine man, but did they call on him in time to save their boss from a fate worse than death? Sheehan's flair for mixing thrills and chills in with a few steamy romance scenes makes this historical romance thriller a must read.