Laughter Novels & Stories

Candles were lighted, beautiful scented flowers were well decorated in my house and even ribbons were tied at various places on that day. Soft music played in the stereo whilst people drank, ate and made merry. Sounds of laughter rang and everyone's faces were filled with smiles until tragedy struck like lightning that before I could realise what was happening, I became the youngest cursed teen werewolf in my pack accused of killing her mother. But then I hoped for my eighteenth birthday because it is only then that I would be free to live my life and have my mate but once again tragedy came knocking... And once again, Lily's life turned around... The rejected Alpha's mate….

“She signed up to carry his child and not steal his heart.” Diana Wood agrees to become a surrogate for reclusive, powerful, emotionally distant Billionaire Theodore Smith. It's meant to be strictly business: Twelve months—a discreet legal process. No attachment. Confidential. Life-changing compensation, enough to save her sister’s life. But twelve months is a long time to live in someone else's world, especially when walls come down, unexpected laughter, shared vulnerabilities, and the heart gets involved. Love was never part of the deal, and they both question everything. Was it ever just an agreement or the beginning of something real? What happens when a contract ends but love is just beginning? Will they be able to face what neither of them planned for?

"I, Darius Vaughan , Alpha of Blood Moon pack, reject you, Lyra Quinn, as my mate." The words cut deeper than any blade, shattering Lyra’s heart before the laughter and scorn of the pack, that followed. Rejected. Humiliated. Banished. She should have died that night. Instead, the rejection awakened something within her, something ancient, silver. Something extraordinary. Now, whispers of a “Silver Queen” carried waves through the lands, a wolf powerful enough to command shadows and bend fate itself. But power, they say, comes with enemies. The Alpha who rejected her is bound by a curse, the rival Alpha who courts her hides a deadly secret. And the prophecy that follows her name promises only two endings: unite the packs… or destroy them all

Before my wedding, my fiance's secretary dumped out all the Dom Perignon champagne I had ordered for the guests and replaced it with Yoo-hoo. I turned grim instantly and demanded an explanation. But my fiance—who had always claimed to dote on me—stood firmly in front of his secretary to defend her. "Susie only had your best interest. Don't ruin the mood for everyone." His pack of so-called friends burst into laughter, egging him on. "Come on, don't be petty, Giselle. It's just a few bottles of Dom Perignon. Don't be so selfish." Yet their eyes were enveloped in evident malicious amusement. At that moment, one thing became certain: this fiance had to be replaced.

My husband's childhood sweetheart kills my parents in an accident due to drunk driving. I want to call the police, but my husband blindfolds me and takes me to the cellar. I'm tormented and subjected to inhumane treatment for the next three years. After each torture session, an icy male voice will ring out in my ear. "Do you still hate her, Sabrina?" One day, I finally cave and submit to the icy voice. "No, I don't. I don't hate her anymore!" I hear my husband's joyous laughter on the other end of the line. On the day he welcomes me out of the cellar, I avoid his embrace. Yet he loses his mind when I ask him for a divorce.

Did you know that there is no cure for a migraine? However, my wealthy husband never suffered from it because my hands massaged him every day. On the day of my car accident, I begged a passerby to call my husband to save me, but he answered impatiently, "Is it necessary to use such a cheap trick on me just because I refused to take your call?" I could hear the malicious laughter of his childhood crush from the other end of the line. My right hand suffered a permanent bone fracture, while my left hand had signs of muscle deterioration. When the lawyer was done drafting the divorce papers, I signed them with great difficulty and delivered them to him. On the day he suffered a massive migraine, my husband looked at my limp hands and stayed silent for a long time.

On our tenth wedding anniversary, my husband, Jaxon Wilde, walks through the door with his hundredth new mistress. From my neck, he snaps the necklace that was once our token of love and fastens it around hers. Amid the guests' jeers and mocking laughter, the lady tugs timidly at my gown and murmurs, "Mr. Wilde wants me to wear this dress tonight, Scarlett." It was a dress altered from my wedding gown ten years ago, and I wore it tonight like a fool, hoping he might remember. But now, he wants to strip his wife bare in public and give it to his mistress on the wedding anniversary. Under the weight of everyone's sneers, I look up at him and give him a genuine smile for the first time in a decade. "Let's get divorced, Jaxon."

There isn't any cure for migraines. But my billionaire wife, Ashley Weston, has not had a single migraine for years thanks to my daily massage with both hands. On the day I get into a car accident, I beg a passerby to call her to save me. She replies impatiently, "So you're resorting to such shameless tricks just because I won't answer your calls?" Through the phone comes the mocking laughter of her childhood friend, Jordan Hanson. My right hand is permanently fractured, and my left hand suffers from muscle weakness after the accident. A lawyer helps me draft a divorce agreement. With much difficulty, I sign it and send it to Ashley. On the day her head throbs with unbearable pain, she looks at my drooping hands and remains silent for a long time.

Megan Blanc expected her bachelorette celebration to end with laughter, hangovers, and regretful memories. What she never imagined was waking up in a stranger’s bed with a ring on her finger and a marriage certificate binding her to a man she couldn’t even remember meeting. Shaken and desperate to move on, Megan convinces herself it was nothing more than a reckless mistake. One night. One stranger. A secret she would bury forever. Especially since she was about to marry Clark Sinclair, the man she had loved and chosen. But fate had other plans. On the day she was supposed to become Clark’s wife, Megan comes face to face with the truth she tried to erase. The man she spent that night with wasn’t a stranger at all. He was Clinton Sinclair, Clark’s older brother.

I was finally pregnant with his child after being married to Grady Winters for five years. I planned to share the wonderful news with him in person, but on that fateful day, I encountered his first love, who had just returned from abroad. She scalded me with soup, spilling it across me before shoving me down the stairs. Curled up and fighting through the piercing pain in my abdomen, I heard her cold, mocking laughter from above. "Who do you think you are to be Mrs. Winters? I've seen plenty of women who are social climbers." Then, she turned to Grady, her voice laced with pride. She playfully pouted, asking, "Didn't I do a good job, Grady? Don't you think you should reward me as well?"