Hugo Award-winning Novels

Five years into marriage, Silvia Serra becomes both Dante Valenti's most lethal weapon and his most invisible presence. She shields him from bullets. She crosses a freezing river for him. Her scars accumulate, and his response is an assumption that it is how things are meant to be. In time, Dante grows repulsed by the violence clinging to her. He derides her lack of charm and gives his warmth to another woman instead. He allows others to grind down her dignity, and with a new lover in his arms, he openly stains her name. Silvia tolerates it so she can continue guarding him. Everyone mocks her as if she's numb to it all, driven away again and again, but never truly gone. Then comes the night of pounding rain. Cast aside without ceremony, Silvia erases every sign she was ever there and leaves with finality. Dante treats it as nothing more than sulking, convinced she will return within three days. Later, the once-untouchable Don was seen on his knees at Silvia's feet, stripped of all pride, begging her to turn back and look at him just once.

When my mother-in-law gets hospitalized due to cancer, I'm about to pay the hospital bills when I find out that my wife, Lilibeth Saunders, has used our savings to pay off a male escort's debt. That's when I finally explode in rage. "Mom has gotten hospitalized because of her illness, and yet you use our money to pay off the debt of a useless piece of trash who relies on his manhood for survival! You really are an evil bitch, Lilibeth Saunders!" As Lilibeth grips the lingerie, she remains stone-faced. "How am I the one at fault here? I'm just trying to give my future child a father who still has a future with me! You can always earn money to treat your own mother's illness! Meanwhile, Carl can't do the same thing about his debt! If he doesn't pay off his debt, his life will be ruined! "You only have yourself to blame, Josiah! After all, you're a good-for-nothing impotent man!" The entire room falls eerily silent. My friend, who's there to help patch things up between us, looks at me with sympathy in his eyes. All the criticism surrounding me flashes through my mind at that moment. That's when I realize that it's time for me to end things with Lilibeth once and for all. What she doesn't know is that she's the infertile one based on the doctor's diagnosis. Also, her mother is the one being hospitalized, not mine.

In my fifth year of marriage to Dominic, I'd become the woman all of Chicago knew as the crazy one — the mental case. Jealousy gnawed at me constantly, and my temper frayed easily, my emotions sharp and unsteady, unravelling more with each passing day. So it only made sense when he slid a divorce agreement across the table. "Vivian's pregnant. A Harrington heir can't be born illegitimate, and Mrs. Harrington can't be a lunatic." "Once she's had the baby, I’ll marry you again, and you'll still be Mrs. Harrington." I was forced to sign my name, then locked away in a private sanatorium a hundred miles from the city. The first year, I waited with desperate hope for him to come take me home. Instead, he handed me an ultrasound report. "Twins — a boy and a girl. Vivian's pregnant again. Just wait a little longer." The second year, he had electric fencing installed around the sanatorium grounds. "Harrington Corp is going public. We can't afford any slip-ups right now." By the fifth year, he simply called to tell me to wait one more year. He must have expected me to scream and lose control the way I always did. But this time, I just nodded calmly. "Alright. However long it takes." After all. I didn't have much time left anyway.

Our pup, Kyle Draven, is burning with a fever of 104 degrees Fahrenheit. His small body convulses as he cries out for his father. But my husband, the Alpha, doesn't care. Julian Draven ignores our son's suffering because Kyle's cries might disturb his precious Linda Griffin. "Linda's trying on evening gowns. Stop using Kyle to get my attention. You're pathetic." Linda deliberately monopolizes my husband's time, then shows up with cake for Kyle like she's some saint. When Kyle eats it, he vomits black-purple blood. The cake had Wolfsbane. I confront her, desperate for answers, but Julian responds with a vicious slap and crushes me under his Alpha authority. "Linda wouldn't hurt a fly. How could she poison anyone? You clearly framed her. What kind of mother poisons her own pup?" He shatters my spine and throws both me and our dying pup into the Borderlands. Just as he gives the order to kill us, a roar erupts from deep within the forest—the kind that makes every beast submit. My childhood friend has returned.

When I married mafia don Paul Garcia, I was twenty-two, and he was thirty-two. By day, he was the cold, dangerous king of the underworld. By night, he was my daddy. Everyone in New Haven knew how much he loved me. I casually mentioned I disliked the ballerina competing with me for the principal role. The next day, she “accidentally” broke her leg and never returned to the stage. One night, I craved pasta from a specific restaurant. Without a word, he led his men into the kitchen, pressed a gun to the chef’s head, and forced him to recreate the dish overnight. I once joked about wanting to sleep among the clouds. He turned around, had the building of a rival family blown up, then bought the tallest one in the city and engraved my name on the top floor. However, in bed, he would exhaust me completely and refuse to let me go. Even when the doctor warned that I was in early pregnancy and needed restraint, he ignored my cries, tied my wrists with his tie, and went on until dawn. The next day, I started bleeding. I called him ninety-nine times, yet he rejected every single call. In my panic, I suddenly received a video from my best friend. “Emily, your don is pinning a woman down and kissing her at the bar of the Four Seasons in Moscovia.” When I opened the video, my heart stopped. The man was Paul, and the woman was my aunt. In that case, I’ll give him two gifts when he comes back: an abortion report and a divorce agreement.

We love reading novels, fall in love with the characters, sometimes envy the main girl for getting the perfect male lead... but what happens when you get inside your own novel and get to meet your perfect main lead and bonus...get treated like the female lead?! As the clock struck 12, Arielle Taylor is pulled inside her own novel. This cinderella is over the moon as her Prince Charming showers her with his attention but what would happen when she finds herself falling for her fairy godmother instead? Please read my interview with Goodnovel at: https://tinyurl.com/y5zb3tug Cover pic: pixabay

Werewolves. Supernaturals. They weren't part of Anisa's world, infact they only existed in novels and movies. And none of which interested the 25 year old college student. But all that changes when she gets into an accident and fate being a sarcastic mistress, turned her life upside down. She wakes up and finds herself in a book. And not just any book, but a werewolf book. That was not all, it turned out that the most possessive and infuriating Alpha was her mate. But how was that possible when she wasn't from their world? Will she be able to survive in this new realm? Accept the possessive male as her mate, or find her way back home?

SYNOPSIS Nanny to the billionaire’s baby? Sino ba naman ang tatanggi sa trabahong 'yon? Certainly not Renata Cinco, isang certified nurse na sanay sa alaga at sakripisyo. Bukod sa malaki ang suweldo, gwapo pa ang kanyang bilyonaryong boss na si Hugo Santillan—a walking temptation in a suit. Pero sa unang araw pa lang niya sa trabaho, nawindang na siya sa eksena: isang parade ng mga babaeng desperadong maging "mommy" ng billionaire’s baby! At dahil certified competitive si Renata, desidido siyang hadlangan ang mga ambitious wannabes. Bakit? Simple lang. Dahil gusto na rin niyang maging mommy ng alaga niya—at asawa ng kanyang boss.

Our seventh wedding anniversary. I sat at the dining table—alone. My phone buzzed, lighting up with two messages. First, from Tom: [Working late at the office tonight.] Second, anonymous: [Tom is incredible. Can you even keep up?] Attached was a picture of him, lips locked with a woman I didn't recognize. I blew out the candles on the anniversary cake. Eyes shut, I typed back: [Let's divorce.]

I knew my husband, Giovanni Rossini, had done it. He had stolen his dead twin brother's identity and faked his own death. And I said nothing. In my last life, he had discarded me and our daughter, Natalia, for his mistress, Katrina Moretti. My mother-in-law, Antonietta, called us trash and forced my five-year-old to peel olives until her small hands blistered. I knelt and begged for money to buy medicine. Giovanni only held Katrina and laughed. In the end, Natalia and I froze and starved to death. Even as we died, Katrina's mocking voice still rang in my ears. Everyone watched with cold eyes. They closed ranks, shifted the blame onto me, and shoved us toward a dead end with no escape. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back at the exact moment they carried Marco's body into the warehouse. This time, I wouldn't let anyone destroy us. I would make them pay twice over for everything they had done to me and my daughter.