Kobo Gallery Novels & Stories

After her father's heart attack, Munachi Alice Rowland needs to stop being the spoiled rich kid in order to assume the position of the director in his gallery. What she isn't prepared for is finding out how bad the state of the gallery's finances are. Now Muna must find a potential investor to get the company back on its feet and pay off their debts. Grant Stevens, Muna's former school mate who made high school hell for her has returned to the city, richer, more powerful than ever and also hot as sin. When Muna finds out that Grant is the CEO of the company her father owes millions of dollars to, she is beyond shocked. Things get worse when she discovers the agreement her father signed with Grant's company. Muna has no choice, other than agreeing to Grant's every wish, which might just entail marriage with him. Muna is very sure it is yet another strategy to torment her, just like he always did nine years earlier. She is supposed to hate Grant, but how can she explain the constant attraction she feels instead whenever he's close? With his flirtatious smile and advances, can she be able to guard her heart and get married to her enemy for two years without catching feelings? As they say, there's a thin line between love and hatred, could Muna's nemesis have some stronger feelings for her after all?

I married my vampire husband ten years ago and gave him a half-blood heir, abandoning my career as a painter to become a full-time mother. Fortunately, my son inherited my talent. At just six years old, he held his first solo art exhibition, inspired by the theme "My Mother." But he never let me attend, and he never let me see his paintings. My husband said my presence would make Luke nervous---that I should stay home and do the housework as a good wife and mother, and wait for them to come back. I told myself he was just young and didn't know better, that he was only pushing back against my discipline, not truly rejecting me. Until the day I snuck into the gallery wearing a surgical mask pulled low. In the center of the crowd, my husband held our son's hand while tenderly pulling a woman in a red dress into his arms. He turned to the guests and announced: "This is Luke's mother---my wife." The three of them stood together, beaming with perfect happiness. And I---the one who'd stayed up all night setting up this exhibition---stood before the paintings while not a single person recognized me. That was when I finally understood. My seemingly gentle, caring vampire husband had long ago given our son a replacement mother. And I was nothing more than the human nanny who'd served her purpose by producing an heir.

Synopsis: In the world of the ultra-elite, power is the only currency, and Dante Moretti is the man who owns the mint. For three years, the ruthless billionaire has watched Ivy St. Claire from the shadows, curating a digital and physical gallery of her life. He didn't just want her; he wanted to destroy the legacy of her father, a man who framed Dante’s family decades ago. When the St. Claire empire teeters on the edge of a $50 million ruin, Dante finally steps into the light, offering Ivy a deal that is nothing short of a soul-binding contract: her freedom for her father’s life. Ivy is thrust into the "Golden Cage" of Dante’s cliffside estate, a gothic masterpiece where every room is a reminder of his obsession. But the luxury is a mask for a terrifying reality. Dante is a man of "Red Flags," a possessive monster who treats Ivy as a living interest on a blood debt. The deeper she sinks into his world, the more she realizes his love is a poisonous blend of desire and vengeance. He isolates her, manipulates her emotions, and threatens everyone she loves to ensure she never takes a step beyond his reach. The stakes escalate when Ivy discovers the mansion’s darkest secret: Dante’s mother, Isabella, is alive and rotting in a hidden cellar, driven mad by years of captivity. Ivy finds herself trapped between two generations of madness, holding a mysterious key left by her father that unlocks a truth even more dangerous than Dante’s obsession. As the lines between hatred and a dark, Stockholm-style attraction begin to blur, Ivy must decide if she will find a way to break the Moretti curse or if she will succumb to being his most "Poisonous Possession" forever.

Claimed as the Wrong Bride: Tripicity Book One Octavia Maddox is a grey zone artist living rough in Tripicity, selling her work to survive. When mob boss Bastien Leclair arranges a contract marriage with Olivia Maddox to secure a political alliance against his rival Corporal, Olivia refuses and doesn't show up. A gallery mix-up, possibly deliberate, puts Occy in the wrong room at the right moment. She signs a contract she doesn't fully understand in exchange for a number that covers the warehouse she's been saving for. Bastien comes to collect. What follows is a chase through the grey zone, a count system of punishments for running, a fever that lands her in hospital, and a slow negotiation of trust between two people who don't trust easily. He moves her to the Alderton, his building, his world, and builds her a studio with north-facing light. She migrates to his bed without deciding to. They fall into something neither of them names. Meanwhile Corporal, operating as Mrs. Santoro, has been watching Occy through a hacked security feed and commissions a painting from her. The three-way power structure of the city tightens around Occy without her knowing it. The Meridian overstep begins destabilising the grey zone she built her life in. Bastien's attempt to secure her position legally through a Maddox family adoption explodes when he tells her without asking her first. She walks out. He sits in the room she left. Coming: the grey zone war, the Maddox meeting with Occy, Corporal's escalation, the truth about who engineered the signing, and whether Occy chooses to stay. Not because she has to, but because she wants to.

In a city where ambition shines brighter than honesty, Ethan Blackwood has built his life on control. A rising executive with a flawless image, Ethan keeps his emotions tightly guarded, believing that vulnerability is a weakness he cannot afford. Love, if it exists at all, is something distant—something meant for other people. Kai Rivera lives by an entirely different rulebook. A bold, intuitive photographer, Kai sees the world through shadows and light, capturing truths others work hard to conceal. Unafraid of emotion or connection, he moves through life with fearless curiosity—until a chance encounter at a rain-soaked art gallery collides him with Ethan. What begins as a charged glance turns into an undeniable pull. As Kai’s uninvited lens follows Ethan into quiet cafés, crowded elevators, and hidden rooftops, tension grows into something neither of them can escape. Ethan’s carefully built walls begin to crack under Kai’s relentless honesty, while Kai finds himself drawn deeper into a man who refuses to admit how much he wants to be seen. But desire is never simple. Jealousy, misunderstandings, and the pressure of expectations threaten to tear them apart. Forced into moments of uncomfortable proximity, both men are pushed to confront the truths they’ve been avoiding—about fear, identity, and the cost of loving openly. When emotions finally collide, Ethan must decide whether protecting his image is worth losing the one person who sees him completely. Shadows Between Us is a slow-burn BL romance about longing, restraint, and the courage it takes to step out of the shadows. It is a story of two men learning that love does not demand perfection—only honesty.

The doctor told me I had 72 hours left, unless I got access to the newest experimental treatment. However, there was only one slot available, and my husband Bowen Liddell gave it to my sister Yvonne Lawson instead. "Her kidney failure is more critical," he said. I nodded and swallowed the white pills that would only speed up my death. In the time I had left, I got a lot done. The lawyer's hand trembled as he passed me the documents. "Are you sure you want to transfer the two billion dollars in shares?" I replied, "Yes. Give them to Yvonne." My daughter, Candice Liddell, was giggling in Yvonne's arms. "Mommy Yvonne bought me a new dress!" I said, "It looks beautiful. Make sure you always listen to Mommy Yvonne, okay?" The art gallery I built from the ground up now had Yvonne's name on the sign. "You're too kind, Kathy," she said, crying. I told her, "You'll run it even better than I ever did." I even signed all my parents' trust fund away. That was when Bowen finally gave me his first genuine smile in years. "Kathleen, you've changed. You're not so aggressive anymore... You're beautiful like this." Indeed. This dying version of me finally became the 'perfect Kathleen Sullivan' in their eyes—obedient, generous, and no longer argumentative. The 72-hour countdown had already begun, and I couldn't help but wonder what they would remember when my heart stopped for good. The good wife who 'finally learned to let go', or the woman who completed her revenge by dying?

Sarah Reynolds, a gifted artist, opens her new gallery exhibition amid the sun-drenched streets of Spain, where passion burns like a summer storm. Her breathtaking beauty attracts attention from all directions, but she is fully captured by the mysterious Damian Thorne, who is twice her age and has a captivating presence and heavenly charm. What starts out as a single drink turns into a memorable one-night affair that leaves both parties speechless and wanting more. Sarah is unaware that Eleanor, her mother, is covertly seeing Damian. After the hectic affair, Sarah returns to the Philippines and attempts to get rid of the heat from that evening. Two weeks later, her lively mother, Eleanor, talks nonstop about her new lover's imposing charm and alluring allure, creating an impression that is unintentionally false. Three weeks after their meeting, Eleanor proudly introduces Damian as her lover, and the truth falls apart. Sarah is shocked, but they both pretend to be calm, hiding the electric tension with courteous grins, even though Damian's ravenous glance shows how desperate he is to get her back. Sarah struggles between loyalty and desire since she doesn't want to break her mother's heart. However, destiny weaves its complex web: Eleanor and Damian become family when they get married in an expensive ceremony a month later. The forbidden flame rekindles behind the façade of domestic contentment. Sarah and Damian give in to moments of intense love that have been taken—secret affairs in dark places where guilt feeds the flames and every touch puts everything at risk. Sarah must manage the seductive attraction of the older man who now shares her mother's bed in this web of secrets, love, lust, and lies while protecting an affair that might destroy their entire world.

On my birthday, I personally prepare 16 dishes. After setting up the candlelight, I open a bottle of red wine. I take a photo and send it to my husband, Eric Sinclair. "I'm working late tonight. Don't wait for me," he replies. I choose to believe him. But after midnight, I notice an Instagram story posted by Shirley Huxley, his secretary. Eric was there with her, dressed in the trench coat I once gave him. They sat side by side in the VIP seat of football stadium where my favorite Super Bowl take place. Entwined in a passionate embrace, they kissed beneath a sea of shimmering lights and the roar of thousands of fans. That game is the one I have always longed to experience with him. I look down at the cold food on the table. Eric's words keep ringing in my head. "I hate kissing." "Marriage is a partnership, not about love and kisses." Though we've been married for ten years, we've never shared a single kiss. Meanwhile, he's out there, kissing Shirley openly and passionately. Despite it all, not a single tear falls from my eyes. The next day, Eric settles into his chair, completely unfazed. "Return the gallery to Shelly," he commands. I nod quietly, saying nothing. Suddenly, Layla Sinclair, my daughter, comes running down the stairs and throws herself into Shirley's arms. "Aunt Shirley, you're my favorite. I don't like Mom!" In that instant, it hits me—the home I devoted my heart and soul to means nothing anymore. It doesn't matter that I've been married to Eric for a decade. Now, all I want is to find myself again. I decide to accept an invitation from the Parisoir School of Fashion Design. From this moment on, I won't wait for them to come home, and I won't look back.

Elena had once believed that silence could mean safety. That a gentle hand and a warm cup of tea placed quietly on her desk every morning could be a form of love. Lucien was never cruel—not in the obvious ways. He remembered how she liked her eggs, noticed when she swapped her perfume, and sent flowers on days he knew she wouldn’t expect them. He raised her like one would raise a pet—softly, without question. And Elena, foolish in the way only the very lonely can be, mistook his quiet affection for devotion. She told herself he was reserved. Mysterious. That love didn’t always wear its heart on its sleeve. But when the old flame returned—the one who spoke his language without needing to try—Elena saw it. The difference. He looked at her like a man who had found his lost religion. And Elena? She had simply been convenient. No tears, no scene. Just papers on the breakfast table, beside the eggs he cooked perfectly. She didn’t accuse or beg. She only asked for freedom. He didn’t sign. He chuckled. A soft, dismissive sound. “A cat raised indoors doesn’t know how to survive on the street, Elena. You’ll come back." But she didn’t. She disappeared, like smoke—except she didn’t vanish, not really. She lived. She wore colour again. Laughed at bad jokes. Let strange men hand her coffee and ask for her number. Lucien? He watched. He watched her become someone without him. And it drove him mad. The night he cornered her outside the gallery, rain in his hair and desperation in his eyes, he looked like a man undone. "Elena," he breathed, "please. Look at me. Just once." She did. Calm as ever, and her love already gone.