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My name used to be Misty Smith, but I killed her with the help of a family court judge in the city and became Sophia O’Shea. Okay, I became emancipated at sixteen because my parents were addicts, and the judge was nice enough to let me change my name because their addiction were slowly destroying my future. I bought my first car, got a single-wide trailer in a small town, sued a girl on my first day at my new school during my senior year, and became a billionaire genius before receiving my high school diploma. It's all thanks to my four grandparents leaving me everything before they bit the dust even though we've never met, and after becoming friends with the girl I sued on the first day of my senior year, I found out my high school crush, who moved back to Baton Rouge, Louisiana with his family after graduation, also had a crush on me. Only time will tell if it was meant to be or if it was just a phase. **WARNING: ADDICTION, DRUGS, VIOLENCE, PROFANITY, SEXUAL REFERENCES, AND OTHER ADULT CONTENT PRESENT! May not be suitable for readers under the age of 18! Please read at your own discretion!**

After her husband found her in bed with his brother, Adrea’s world shattered in an instant. Rafael asked questions, yes — but he didn’t stay to listen. He opened their marriage and moved on, with another woman in his bed and no apologies. Left reeling, Adrea refused to beg for what should have been obvious. She had her pride. And when a charismatic old friend, Aris, stepped back into her life, offering comfort and something dangerously close to love, she complied with the terms her husband had set — and let herself be with him. But just as her heart began to settle, Rafael uncovered the truth: his brother had set them both up, and the wife he condemned was innocent all along. Now he wants her back. But after everything he’s done, does Adrea still have room in her heart for the man who walked away?

My husband, Zachary Larson, and I are holding a welcome dinner for my sister, Julia Scott. When someone asks what Julia's greatest regret is, she raises her glass and looks at Zachary dreamily. "It's probably the time I wasn't brave enough to keep his child." Everyone starts to whisper amongst themselves. I tighten my grip on the pregnancy check-up report I'm about to reveal to them. My stomach twists with the emotions swirling in my head. Julia suddenly returns to her senses and chuckles. "I was just kidding. We were only friends with benefits, so don't take it to heart, Queenie. He married you, so you're the one he loves."

Francis is head over heels with his friend that works in the bar that he invested in. He never thought that he's into her until they did it. He offered her to be the adviser and to taste the wines that he made until they get drunk and one-night changes everything. Natalie is doomed. She's pregnant and Francis is the father. But she never regrets the mind-blowing sex she ever experiences in life with Francis. He's too perfect for her and she's just like a common girl. Suddenly, her life changes when he comes to her.

BLURB Zara, a young lady whose entire life was ruined by her husband, Armstrong, and his mistress, Victoria. She left her son all alone at home just to come and remind Armstrong about their child's birthday, but she was framed by Victoria. Armstrong got Zara arrested. She had to spend the night in the police cell, leaving her son alone at home. When she was bailed out, she rushed home, only to find her son was lying lifeless in the living room. She filed for a divorce and vowed to avenge her son's death. After her divorce, she found out she was pregnant. ************* Armstrong never loved Zara, but when he received the news that she was giving birth to his child, he panicked. He couldn't let her go, he had to win his child and ex-wife back. He couldn't bear to see another man taking care of his ex-wife and child. Will he succeed in winning Zara back?

After claiming her stepsister instead of her, years later, her mate is on his knees… begging for the love he once threw away. ***** Clara Hale was never truly wanted. Not by her father, or by her pack. Even by the man fate chose for her that turned out to be Alpha Damien Grayson; the one man she had secretly loved for years. But when the bond connected them, he rejected her right away and chose her stepsister instead. Years later, after enduring several abuse and maltreatment, Clara is forced into an arranged marriage with an Alpha Prince of a rival pack. A man who had been in a coma for seven years. A vegetable. But days after she arrives at the new pack and tends to him, he wakes up, and he turns out to be her second chance mate. But just when she finally finds peace and love with her new mate, Damien comes back, stating he wants her again, that he'd made a mistake. But it's too late. Clara is not the same weak girl anymore. She is a Luna queen, strong and respected, and loved by her new mate who truly sees her worth.

I come from an old-money family. My grandfather's will was ironclad: whoever gets an Ivy League acceptance letter unlocks 25% of a massive trust fund and a seat on the family board. Out of four siblings, I was the only one who stood a chance. Every night, my mother Victoria carefully made me a cup of "organic brain-boosting matcha." My twin sister Chloe and younger brother Mason never got that privilege. The night before the December SAT—the last chance for Regular Decision Ivy scores—Victoria handed me my green matcha as usual. The next day, my mind went completely blank during the test. I blacked out. I missed that application season. Meanwhile, Chloe—who spent her time at yacht parties and couldn't read an equation—miraculously got an offer from UPenn and sailed right onto the board. The second year, right before the test, my snobby cousin Brianna reached for my matcha. Victoria slapped her hand away and screamed: "Don't touch Ava's things!" That exam, I got severe stomach cramps and was rushed to the ER by ambulance. I had to drop out again. And Brianna—who only cared about designer bags—somehow got into Cornell and took her board seat. The whole family popped champagne in our Upper East Side penthouse. I became the laughingstock of Manhattan's elite, having missed two application seasons in a row. Why did my body crash like clockwork, right at the final, life-changing SAT? Prepping for the third time, I took no chances. For three days before the test, I ate only gluten-free detox meals controlled by a private nutritionist. But the night before the big test, Victoria smiled and brought me that familiar cup of green matcha.

"Babe, what’s happening here?" I blurted out, my voice shaking as I tried to make sense of the scene before me. Jeffrey turned, his face hardening as if I was a stranger in my own home. "What does this look like to you?"he snapped, rising from the bed with a fierce look in his eyes. He walked toward me, gripping a piece of paper as if it held all the power in the world. "Sign the divorce papers!"he said, shoving the document toward me like it was a blunt instrument. "B... but babe!!" I stammered, my mind racing with disbelief. "Will you shut up and just do it already?" His voice was ice-cold, cutting through my confusion like a knife. Each word stabbed at my heart, making me feel like I was on the verge of falling into an abyss.

I'm dying, and so is Sean Quinton. He still has hope, though. I don't. Why? Because once I die, my body will become the first to have passed due to a special infection. It'll be dissected and researched to help cure Sean. So, his daily task becomes urging me to die. Unfortunately for him, I'm unwilling to save him another time, so I die not because of the infection but because of carbon monoxide poisoning. It's enough to destroy the symptoms my body shows and ruin their plans to research my corpse.

As the male lead, Henry Johnston, forces himself on me, a row of comments suddenly appears before my eyes. "Henry is about to misunderstand and think Aria drugged him! The angst is about to begin!" "I'm thrilled just thinking about Henry regretting dearly after Aria dies!" "Keep up the act, Henry. After she dies, you'll be hugging her corpse and crying every day." That is when I realize that I am the tragic female lead in a story where I am destined to be tormented until I die. The readers treat my death as a highlight to push the plot forward. They are counting down to my death. As I look at Henry, who is panting on top of me, anger courses through me. I grab a table lamp and smash it into him, killing him on the spot. Who says that the one who dies in a toxic romance story must always be the female lead?