How To Become A Real Life Werewolf Mga Nobela at Kwento

Humanity has finally done it and destroyed the world. After the spread of the killer virus that no one had a cure for, countries started to fight as greed has pushed them to expand their territories. And in the process, they provoked mother nature to take a stand. The plague evolved into something that twisted and deformed humans; they were neither dead nor alive. Just walking empty husks that fed on flesh and had one purpose, killing. The supernatural were exposed to the rest of the world; as they weren't spared and got affected, too. The result of this knowledge was chaos. Instead of creating one unity, the rest of the living were fighting among themselves and the undead. The entire world turned into a big arena and it was (survival of the fittest).

After my ex-husband, Lucaro Ricci, has died, he turns into a ghost. Since then, he has stayed by my side as a shadow. Three years later, I walk into the church, hand-in-hand with Carlo Altieri, the oldest son of Lucaro's arch-nemesis. Everyone in the city chews me out for betraying Lucaro. Even Lucaro curses me out for being a scumbag. But I'm the only one who knows the actual reason. I've already made a wish to God in the church that I'll sacrifice my life in exchange for Lucaro's second chance in life.

On the one thousand and ninety-fourth day of being Mrs. Harris, I asked James Harris for a divorce. His face showed a hint of confusion, but it quickly shifted to his usual, composed expression. "As you wish," he said, his tone as flat as if we were discussing whether to replace the milk on the breakfast table. He did not even bother to ask why. On the one thousand and ninety-fifth day, I gently saw him and the children off, acting as if nothing had happened, and then completely left the Harris family behind.

My boyfriend thought I was too fat at 121 pounds. I signed up for a gym and started working out like crazy, but the more I tried to lose weight, the more I gained. Meanwhile, my best friend, Chloe Woods, was doing late-night eating streams every single day, stuffing herself with steaks, seafood, and greasy takeout. Not only did she not gain weight, she dropped from 154 pounds to 143. When my boyfriend started tearing into me even worse than before, I suddenly heard the tabby cat’s voice in my head. “You idiot. Chloe’s got you trapped in a weight-swap system. “No matter how hard you try to lose weight, she’s the one getting thinner. Every pound you lose is a pound she drops. She’s trying to ruin you.” I froze and turned to look at my best friend, Chloe. She was staring at my boyfriend without even trying to hide it, her eyes full of admiration. Then the tabby’s voice exploded in my ears again. “Chloe is obsessed with that trashy loser. Once she gets skinny, the two of them will hook up. Then they'll team up to get you killed and spend your settlement money living a happy life.” The moment I learned the truth, I smiled. Since my so-called best friend wanted to be skinny that badly, if I made her whole body weigh less than 50 pounds, she’d probably be very grateful to me, right?

To ransom my husband from the black market, I threw myself into relentless work, earning every penny I could. My son suffered alongside me, sharing in my exhaustion and deprivation. Years of malnutrition had left him vulnerable, and eventually, he was diagnosed with leukemia. I wept as I scraped together money from relatives and friends to pay for his chemotherapy. But on the way to the hospital, a sudden, unbearable pain wracked him. In his struggle, he accidentally bit off his own tongue and died in agony before we even reached the doors. I clutched my son's ashes and went straight to the black market, determined to use the borrowed money to bring my husband back. The moment I stepped in, I overheard a conversation between Joe Masseria and his men. "Boss, Sandra comes every month with her payments. She's suffered a lot just to ransom you," one said. At that moment, a widow—Joe's sister-in-law, long mourning her late husband—appeared beside him. "Joe," she said, her voice calm but cutting, "all these years, you've protected me from harm, even giving me the title of a mob boss's wife. But you've kept Sandra in the dark the whole time. Isn't that… terribly unfair to her?" Joe's eyes were cold, devoid of any pity for me. He scoffed. "Fairness is ruthless. She's had all this love from me. What's a little suffering compared to that? "But she's waited for me all these years. It's time I returned—before she loses her mind and comes after you. "If she's still sensible, I'll make sure her and her son's quality of life improves a bit." I understood everything in that instant. Holding my son's ashes to my chest, I wept until it felt as if my heart would shatter. Joe—your so-called fairness killed my son. And I am done waiting for you.

We often anticipate the struggles for survival later in life. But for Iyunade, a nineteen-year old sophomore at the University of Ibadan, life's struggles pre-empts her growth as her struggles suddenly snowballs into her fending for her family even if it requires stepping off bounds.Fate, they say, works in mysterious ways! Along comes Olatunde, the gobsmacking, gorgeous twenty-two year old multimillionaire law student at the University of Ibadan who is beset with issues with his family. At first, Iyunade & Olatunde are oblivious of each others' presence but when their paths keep crossing, circumstamces set the ball rolling as they are left with no choice than to acknowledge each other.What happens when Tunde finds out Iyunade is a sex trader? Will Iyunade be able of turning a blind eye to Tunde's haunting past?Find out how these revealing secrets pan out as the journey of two grown ups from different worlds battle love and the trials of life...

The adventures of three young women as they navigate through life, love, and other stuff while in the city. Brooklyn dreams of being a successful author, but in the meantime, she's got to pay the bills. That means working as a barista while working on her writing in her off time. Addy has always longed to be a famous designer, but she needs to find a way to break onto the scene. Has her big break finally come? Shea loves to shop, but she wants more. She just needs to find it.

My best friend, Mila Clarke, falsely accused my father and my family for betraying the pack and killing the warriors. I kneeled before my husband, Alpha Leon Black, and begged him to have faith in my father. But he merely gazed at me coldly no matter how hoarse I've gone from crying. Even my own pup, Lucas Black, berated me. "I feel ashamed of you and your family! You're not worthy to become my mother!" Later on, I got cast out to the barren plains surrounding the border. Six years later, Leon and Lucas want to take me home. But I already have a new pup, a new mate, and a new home here.

In New York’s Upper East Side, there were two heirs. One was a speed-obsessed daredevil dominating the racetracks, the other was a brilliant actuary who controlled the flow of capital. Born into powerful families and polar opposites in temperament, yet they grew up side by side as each other’s only best friend. They had fought over girls and bickered endlessly over racing bets. However, at fifteen, there was one thing they did in perfect unison. They each put on the same roughly carved bronze badge. They were trinkets Mia had idly made during a craft class, marked only by a faint “M” scratched on the back. Back then, Mia was seated in the last row of the classroom. Her background was a complete mystery to everyone. Yet they wore that badge for ten whole years. Whether standing on the F1 podium or locking in billion-dollar trades at the exchange, the cheap little badge on their chests never changed. Until Ella showed up. She was the cherished daughter of a rising conglomerate family. She hand-stitched two gold-thread fabric patches and gifted them to them. The patches looked so ordinary they looked like the kind of trinket you would find three for a dollar at a flea market. And yet, they both replaced their bronze badges with her plain patches. Mia did not say anything. She simply folded away an old newspaper clipping with a photo of the three of them smiling together. That night, she called her father in Sicily. Her voice was emotionless. “Papa, I accept the marriage arrangement.”

This is wrong,” he stated the obvious. Eyes locked with mine like a metal to a piece of magnet. “Yet feels so right,” my response came out curt and sharp. That’s how much the tension has me caged. He came in contact with me, his breaths erratic and mine weren’t any different at the feel of his touch. Something has shifted and he it was no longer what it used to be between us. No psychic is needed to spell that out. But how? He’s Noel, the guy I’ve sworn to spend the rest of my life tormenting. And I’m Cheryl, the girl he’s promised to never let know peace.