Loser Life Novels & Stories

MATURED CONTENT WARNING ⚠️⚠️⚠️ PLEASE DON'T READ IF YOU ARE NOT ABOVE 18+ EROTIC SCENES FROM FIRST CHAPTER!!! Ever being the centre of attraction for being beautiful, gorgeous and a hell-bent sexiest woman? That was how Bianca felt each time she played with her boy toys. Bianca Davies is a hot, stunning supermodel and a narcissistic prima donna who strongly regards men as nothing but pleasure tools and her bodyguards, her boy toys. Used to having men worship her and fall at her feet, she is beyond disappointed when she meets the man who apparently isn't swayed by her charm and unapologetically knocks her off her high horse – Liam, her new mysterious, drop-dead gorgeous bodyguard. Determined to make him yearn for her, Bianca does the unthinkable and for the first time in her life, the chaser becomes the chased. She soon finds herself losing in her own game to Liam who's got a mission of his own. What will happen when she is accused of murder and only one person can save her? Will Liam forgo his revenge and chose to help the woman he was slowly falling in love with? Find out in this erotic life of a superstar!

Joshua set to become a sought out programmer and a novelist right from high school had to face challenges of overcoming girls challenge. Together with his friend, could he live his dreams after Vivian came into his life Find out if he is able to fulfill his dreams

The story is about a girl named Aiv, an introvert and a shy girl, who unexpectedly meets a guy, Kevin, who happens to be a deity under a curse. They struggle to keep up with the promise they made to each other under the Northern lights. They both have sides that both of them have yet to explore. But, little do they know that there's someone pulling their strings all along. Will they ever discover the mastermind? Can they find love amidst this cursed fate? Cover by: @LeelaSteele

My husband's childhood friend says she wants her crystal beads to soak up some of the good luck in our home. Because of that, he scatters the beads on the floor, making me slip and miscarry. I'm in agony as I lie on the operating table. I call my husband incessantly, but all he does is block my number. I lie in the hospital ward after the operation. I see my husband's childhood friend's social media update—a photo of him worshipfully holding out a certificate while getting down on one knee. It's captioned, "He loves me so much! I said I'm interested in running a business and he actually set up a company for me!" On the day of the branch company's grand opening, my husband's childhood friend wears an expensive custom-made gown. Meanwhile, I wear her discarded goods. I'm barred from even entering the building. I suppress my bitterness and call my lawyer. "Are the divorce procedures done?"

To ransom my husband from the black market, I threw myself into relentless work, earning every penny I could. My son suffered alongside me, sharing in my exhaustion and deprivation. Years of malnutrition had left him vulnerable, and eventually, he was diagnosed with leukemia. I wept as I scraped together money from relatives and friends to pay for his chemotherapy. But on the way to the hospital, a sudden, unbearable pain wracked him. In his struggle, he accidentally bit off his own tongue and died in agony before we even reached the doors. I clutched my son's ashes and went straight to the black market, determined to use the borrowed money to bring my husband back. The moment I stepped in, I overheard a conversation between Joe Masseria and his men. "Boss, Sandra comes every month with her payments. She's suffered a lot just to ransom you," one said. At that moment, a widow—Joe's sister-in-law, long mourning her late husband—appeared beside him. "Joe," she said, her voice calm but cutting, "all these years, you've protected me from harm, even giving me the title of a mob boss's wife. But you've kept Sandra in the dark the whole time. Isn't that… terribly unfair to her?" Joe's eyes were cold, devoid of any pity for me. He scoffed. "Fairness is ruthless. She's had all this love from me. What's a little suffering compared to that? "But she's waited for me all these years. It's time I returned—before she loses her mind and comes after you. "If she's still sensible, I'll make sure her and her son's quality of life improves a bit." I understood everything in that instant. Holding my son's ashes to my chest, I wept until it felt as if my heart would shatter. Joe—your so-called fairness killed my son. And I am done waiting for you.

Anushka grew up in the vast tea plantations of Darjeeling, North Bengal. And like eight or ten ordinary girls, she was fastidious and fickle, but from the age of ten, she had a overcome many obstacles to fight relentlessly against the odds of fate. But she overcome these adversities very well. All of a sudden, Anushka's marriage started to struggle, her father objected at first, but under the pressure of her grandmother, Anushka was finally married to the son of an elite family of Kolkata. On the day of the wedding, Anushka came to know that 'Amarnath' and 'Anjali' are not her parents. Anushka's groom ' Rahul' unfortunately died on the day after the wedding like seventy two hours later. It took him a long time to erase this cruel past and start a new life. The collaboration of 'Nithin Sir' came to the city after the finale exam of the school with very good results to conquer her own destiny by fulfilling her dreams. Andright here her life takes a turn or another new drama begins which surpasses even life..... To know the rest, you have to read this incredibly novel.

On the day of our wedding, my fiance Thomas Warsh was killed in a car accident on the way there. His adopted sister rushed toward me, clutching his ashes, accusing me of being a jinx who brought him misfortune. I was drowning in grief when a line of floating comments suddenly appeared before my eyes. [You must remain a widow for three years for your deceased husband. After three years, he will be reincarnated and return to love you again!] [Don’t ever remarry. Otherwise, the male lead will never rest in peace, and you will suffer for the rest of your life!] That was when I learned that my fiancé and I were the hero and heroine of a novel. Only by following the spoilers in the comments and completing the storyline could I reunite with him. I did not remarry. Guided by the comments, I remained a widow for three years, and then another three. However, it was not until I suddenly died from a severe illness that I discovered the truth–the comments had all been written by Thomas. He had faked his death, changed his appearance, married his adopted sister, and fed me endless empty promises so I would continue to slave away for the Warsh family. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day before the wedding.

Alena Rossi walked in on her fiance Rayden sleeping with his secretary Stephanie in the house they shared. The chaos around her that unravelled for Rayden was beyond her reach and she hadn't cared enough to stick around and watch the fireworks. Returning to her homeland had given her unexpected surprises that she hadn't anticipated. Devon Tyler is the youngest mogul who took the real estate world by storm and was building an empire for his future. He had dominated a lot in the last five years that made him more elusive until he came face to face with his oldest friend's youngest sister Alena. The young girl who grew up next door to him until he was twenty one. The same little girl that didn't like him one bit as a child and detested his very existence like he was a peasant to her. Came face to face with the adult version, the stunning beauty who still refused to acknowledge him. So he made it his mission to charge at her with everything he has and too see if she dared continue to ignore the untouchable billionaire who refuses to be ignored. The little girl he watched from afar was now within distance and he was up for the challenge as he stared at her silently.

In front of the orphanage gates, Rebecca Schwartz, the impoverished student I had been sponsoring, stood glaring at me with a face full of disdain. "If you don't let Freddie come along, I'm not going to your house either," she declared, her tone sharp and unyielding. In the past, blinded by love and hopelessly infatuated, I would have caved to her demands, humbling myself just to keep the peace. But things were different now—I had been reborn. Staring at this despicable pair, who had once caused my tragic demise, a tidal wave of fury surged within me. Yet, it settled into nothing more than a faint, icy smile on my lips. "Then stay here," I said, my voice cold and steady. "Rot in this place alongside your precious Freddie. After all, trash like you belong in the garbage heap."

In New York’s Upper East Side, there were two heirs. One was a speed-obsessed daredevil dominating the racetracks, the other was a brilliant actuary who controlled the flow of capital. Born into powerful families and polar opposites in temperament, yet they grew up side by side as each other’s only best friend. They had fought over girls and bickered endlessly over racing bets. However, at fifteen, there was one thing they did in perfect unison. They each put on the same roughly carved bronze badge. They were trinkets Mia had idly made during a craft class, marked only by a faint “M” scratched on the back. Back then, Mia was seated in the last row of the classroom. Her background was a complete mystery to everyone. Yet they wore that badge for ten whole years. Whether standing on the F1 podium or locking in billion-dollar trades at the exchange, the cheap little badge on their chests never changed. Until Ella showed up. She was the cherished daughter of a rising conglomerate family. She hand-stitched two gold-thread fabric patches and gifted them to them. The patches looked so ordinary they looked like the kind of trinket you would find three for a dollar at a flea market. And yet, they both replaced their bronze badges with her plain patches. Mia did not say anything. She simply folded away an old newspaper clipping with a photo of the three of them smiling together. That night, she called her father in Sicily. Her voice was emotionless. “Papa, I accept the marriage arrangement.”