I Was Hoping Novels & Stories

Roxanne's fiancé was suddenly snatched by her stepsister. In return, she got into a forced marriage with her stepsister's fiancé, a wealthy billionaire whom her sister had rejected because he was disabled.Bound by familial obligations and in order to reclaim her late mother's shopping center, Roxanne agreed to replace her sister and marry the "Crippled" billionaire, Henry Ford. Little did she know that she had thrown a rock and picked a diamond instead. Henry Ford, the crippled billionaire, was more than meets the eye! For Roxanne, the grass was indeed greener on Henry Ford's side. …"Make me yours, Henry," Roxanne said, her eyes pleading. Henry's electric blue eyes whirled with affection a

I've been a goody-two-shoes for 18 years. The only outrageous thing I've ever done is get into a secret relationship with my stepbrother, Kieran Brock, even though my mom and my stepfather, Andre Brock, are still living in the same house as us. During the day, we're stepsiblings who aren't familiar with each other. At night, however, we tangle with each other heatedly in the same bed. During the fifth year of our underground relationship, I accidentally overhear Kieran's conversation with his friend. "When you were 21, you robbed your stepsister of her virginity. Now that you've toyed with her for five years, aren't you planning on giving her a legitimate position by your side?" I feel m

After eighteen years of wandering alone, I looked like a tomboy covered in dirt when I was found and brought home. Just as I was about to shower, there was a loud scream in the bathroom. The fake heiress rushed out. She pushed me down before she threw herself into Mom’s arms and cried. “He… He peeped on me while I was showering. He even tried to touch me inappropriately!” Mom was furious, and Dad raised his arm to punch me. My brother was so enraged that he even wanted to throw me out! However, I was a girl! Did they forget that the child they lost was a girl?

Blurb “Admit it, you want me,” Frank said, staring deep into my eyes like I was the best thing he had ever seen. “I…don't.” “Real believable glasses.” He murmured, inching closer and closer. “Stop me if you truly believe your body isn't aching for me like mine is.” And then he claimed my lips in a searing hot kiss that left my body aching for him and my pussy dripping. Mimi Salvador has one rule: keep her fantasies on paper. The awkward, book-smart college writer has spent years hiding behind her laptop, secretly crafting spicy fanfiction about her stepbrother, Danny, the campus hockey golden boy. But when a mix-up at his game hands her smutty manuscript to his arrogant rival, Frank San

Damian began to notice that I had stopped telling him everything. When I bought new jewelries, I no longer asked for his opinion. When the Blackwood family's annual gala came around, I attended alone. When I needed surgery at the Blackwood family's private hospital, I arranged everything myself. No phone call. No message. Not even a note for him. When Damian eventually found out, he frowned. "Why didn't you tell me? Give me your file. I'll have someone make the arrangements." The answer came before I even had to think. "No. I've got it. I don't want to trouble you. Thank you." The words hung between us. For a moment, neither of us spoke. Because only two weeks earlier, I couldn't even choos

I woke up to the morning sun shining dimly into my room, directly into my face. The feeling of a rough hand resting lightly on my stomach, I turn over and my eyes widen with shock. How the hell did my Chief end up in my bed? What did I do last night? I tried my hardest to remember what all went down at the mandatory command picnic… I remember going out to a bar outside of base. I remember dancing, after running into a friend from my previous command, that left a year after I got there, because she got transferred to a new command. I remember her buying me shots, to celebrate our reunion and working together again. But then everything went blank….

After being out of contact for a month, my wife finally remembered me. 'Mason's still one song short. Bring me that score of yours.' But this time, she never received a reply from me again. Mason tried to persuade her carefully. "Vega, forget it. Maybe I'm just not meant for this award. Don't fall out with Blaine because of me." Vega reassured him that I was only sulking. Then she went home, found my score, and handed it to Mason, thinking she could explain everything to me once I came back. But she never got the chance. I had been by her side the whole time—she just could not see me anymore.

Two years ago, as a graduate of Werewolf Medical School, I volunteered to go to the most remote and poorest pack, as it had always been my dream to help werewolf patients in need. I heard from my teacher that the werewolves in the Rogue Pack were the poorest and that their living conditions were the worst. Most of the werewolves there were old and weak, so I volunteered to go to that pack as soon as I graduated. After I arrived, I helped them build an infirmary and even set up a blood station. Every year, I led them in voluntary blood donations. But one time—right after I had taken a short break following a blood donation—they turned on me. They slandered me, calling me a selfish and heartle

I used to think loving Karl Varek long enough would make him love me back. Even when high society mocked me for being a poor orphan who didn’t belong beside the billionaire heir of the Varek empire, I endured it all quietly. After all, his grandfather forced him to marry me because I once saved his life. I knew Karl never wanted me but I still foolishly believed that one day, I could become more than just his unwanted wife. I was wrong. For three years, my husband humiliated me openly. He brought different women home, let the media compare me to his beautiful ex-girlfriend, and watched silently while everyone treated me like a shameless gold digger clinging desperately to the Varek name.

I was the stand-in who looked most like my husband's first love. He put me through countless plastic surgeries, both major and minor ones, until I became her exact likeness. But then, she came back from the dead. All it took was her saying, "I don't like anyone looking like me," and he sent me right back to the operating table once more. I begged him, telling him that my body couldn't handle it anymore. Alas, he only looked at me with irritation. "Seeing that cheap imitation of her face just disgusts me," he sneered. "No matter how close you come, you'll never be her." In the end, I died on that operating table. Yet, he went mad, trying desperately to recall what I once looked like.