Incredible Creatures That Defy Evolution Novels & Stories

The year Lawrence Scott and I were most in love, he died in a car accident. Everyone thought I would fall apart, but I did not cry, and I did not scream. Two years later, I ran into him at a private lounge: Lawrence was there, holding a young girl in his arms, kissing her passionately. His friends hurried over to explain: "Back then, Lawrence was badly injured in the crash and fell into a coma. He just woke up recently but lost his memory. We didn't tell you because we didn't want you to worry." Lawrence pushed the girl aside, frowned slightly, and looked straight at me. "So you're the fiancée I supposedly forgot? I don't remember you, but since you never gave up on me, I'll honor my promise to marry you." I smiled faintly and said, "They lied to you. We don't know each other." What Lawrence did not know was that on the day he faked his death, I received a video. In it, he was laughing and saying to his friends, "The thought of spending the rest of my life with only Yoana drives me crazy. I'll fake my death, take a few years off to have fun. Just keep her company so she doesn't do anything stupid." He also did not know that during those two years he was 'dead,' I had found someone else.

A wolf in hunter's clothing. Belle is a rare and odd beauty among her pack. Unlike the lycans in her pack who can combine themselves with their wolves when they shift, she can only become a full wolf or a full human. She is different, but that does not mean that she is weak. With her being the newly appointed beta of the pack, the alpha assigned her a mission to watch over a human child. Belle did not like the idea of using a kid for their plans to take down the humans, so she helped the girl escape. Because of saving the child she was adopted by the humans, allowing her to enroll to their academy and learn their secrets to compensate to her pack for letting the child escape. But the more she learns, the more she realizes she is siding with the wrong people. Mysteries emerge as she learns that she is not the only lycan who can shift between human and wolf, or otherwise known as werewolves. Whenever she tries to learn about these creatures like her, she is always hampered by Ajax Finnegan, another hunter in training at the academy who is just as strong as she is. To Ajax, he feels like Belle is hiding something. He can sense that she's too different - too special, to be just an ordinary human. She's a beauty with the strength of a beast. Will Belle continue to side with the lycans, or will she continue her search for answers about these so called werewolves? Can Ajax figure out the beauty's secret?

At the company's annual party, my fiancée, the CEO, was chosen for a game called "opposite-gender squats." With the whole room cheering, she did not hesitate. She jumped onto a young male intern and wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. He held her by the hips as he lifted and lowered her again and again, while she laughed as if she did not have a care in the world. Then came the second round: blindfolded face recognition. When her hands reached the intern, her fingers lingered on his lips and traced them slowly. He suddenly licked her fingertips. Right there, in front of everyone, he smirked. "Miss Smith, your hands are really soft. The way you touched my lips just now… that felt amazing. This kind of perk beats any year-end bonus. You smell incredible, Andrea." Her face flushed red, but she did not deny it. She only smiled, shy and pleased. That was when I let out a cold laugh. "If you like it that much, I will assign you as the CEO's assistant. All business trips next year, you two can go together." Her expression changed instantly. "Daniel, what is with the attitude? Can't you handle a game? It's just for fun. Why are you making such a big deal out of it? Who is going to dare play with me after this?" "Fine. If you enjoy playing so much, then go play with him. Because that CEO seat is about to belong to someone else," I muttered.

I thought I was just an ordinary girl in a quiet town. Then I met Aiden Wolfe. He’s not like anyone I’ve ever known quiet, mysterious, and hiding something wild beneath his skin. I should’ve stayed away. Everyone warned me. But something about him pulled me in… and when he bit me, my whole world changed. Now I feel fire in my veins. I see things I shouldn’t. Creatures that shouldn’t exist. I’m being hunted for something I don’t even understand and Aiden may be the only one who can help me survive. This isn’t the life I chose. But the fire? The fire chose me.

She is a well-accomplished woman, one who has received the greatest respect among her friends, family, and colleagues. She almost has everything, the only regret she had was getting a one-night stand with someone named Juan. He is an average man who's contented with anything he has. A playful man where "commitment" is not in his vocabulary. His proudest decision was running away from the mistake he made one hot night in room 4201. This is a story about a faithful encounter between two people with completely opposite personalities. Watch how our Theressa Cruz catch our cunning Juanjo Manolo --- WARNING: This is story not suitable for children. The story will include appropriate words and scenes not recommended for kids. You have been warned. Thank you!

Who knew a single lie could ruin a life this much? Natalie Rossi, a scholarship student from a poor background pretends to be rich to survive among Italy's elites. But when she names Leonardo Moretti as her boyfriend during a party game, the lie escalates into something more dangerous. Because Leonardo is real, and isn't a man whose name can be used easily without consequences. Overnight, Natalie becomes a target meant to be cleared off. Hunted, shamed and stripped of everything she has worked for, Natalie watches her world crumble until an unseen hand begins to shield her from chaos. Will Natalie pay the full price of her lies, or accept the hand reaching for her… and everything that comes with it?

After being reborn, the first thing I did was forge a medical report diagnosing chronic kidney disease. In my previous life, my nephew had been diagnosed with kidney failure, and he needed a transplant to survive. I rushed to get a matching test and donated one of my kidneys to him. But over time, my health deteriorated. At twenty, my body felt like it belonged to someone eighty. Even simple chores like sweeping the floor left me exhausted. I couldn't go out to work or earn a living, yet my brother and sister-in-law scolded me for "pretending to be sick." "It's just a kidney." my sister-in-law snapped. "Do you expect to leech off our family forever?" She even went so far as to buy a pair of fresh pig kidneys and smash them in my face. "Since we took one of yours, here's a new pair. Happy now?" Because I had lost a kidney, I died before the age of thirty, alone in a rented apartment. The next time I opened my eyes, I was back—before my nephew's diagnosis even came in.

During the mandatory freshman orientation camp, my skin had flared up with a severe allergic reaction, so I didn't use the plastic washbasin the school handed out. Instead, I opened my suitcase and took out the custom silver basin I had brought from home. My roommate, Louisa Carter, immediately made a snide remark, drawling, "You're really something, huh? Kids from broke families like us are lucky to have any basin at all." I didn't bother responding. I simply pulled out my facial essence to do a cold compress, but she immediately rushed over, slapped the bottle out of my hand, and jabbed a finger at my face. "Bet you get tens of thousands a month for living expenses. You have a sugar daddy, don't you? Don't you feel guilty making your folks work their fingers to the bone back on the farm? People like you don't deserve to be at our school. I'm reporting you to the student counselor." I laughed in disbelief and slapped her. … The next morning, the family photo I'd left on my desk had been slashed to ribbons. Across the back, carved in ink, were the words: 'Daughter of a homewrecker. Go to hell.' I went straight to the police. While officers pulled the dorm security footage, our student counselor and the university president rushed in. The moment the president saw the man whose face had been cut apart in my photo, his legs nearly buckled. He almost dropped to his knees.

On New Year's Eve, I prepare a feast. The clock strikes twelve, but my husband, Vincent Porter, still isn't home. My daughter, Lorelei Porter, tugs at my sleeve and holds up my phone. "Look Mommy, Daddy is at this lady's house!" Vincent has posted an update on Twitter. He is with Christine Snow, his childhood sweetheart. They are smiling at the camera, with a boy who looks about ten standing between them. In front of them sits a swan-shaped cake. The caption reads, "The most special day for the most special you." My heart sinks into my stomach. A marriage that came later in life can never compete with a pair of childhood sweethearts. I accept defeat.

The freshman welcome party was loud—music blasting, people screaming over it. Then the external pacemaker on my chest started shrieking. 10 percent battery. Cold sweat hit fast. I always carried a backup. Always. I yanked open my backpack. No heavy medical battery pack. Just a flimsy power bank. One blinking bar.