Lotr Word Count Novels & Stories

Broken vows don’t necessarily mean a broken marriage… Electa Leventis meant every word of the vows she shared with her husband Adrastos at the altar. Pity he didn’t return her sincerity… Expecting happy-ever-after, instead, Electa found herself going through a mortifyingly public separation! Now, divorce papers in hand, Electa has finally built up the courage to put an end to her time as the mighty Greek billionaire’s wife once and for all. But she’s forgotten the magnetic pull that devilish Adrastos possesses. And that broken vows don’t necessarily mean a broken marriage…

When the heatwave apocalypse hits the Earth, the ozone layer has completely dissipated, forcing mankind to move into the underground city. My husband, Rhett Calloway, and I get to stay on Level Two, seeing as we've funded the construction of the underground city. On day in the third year of the heatwave apocalypse, Rhett brings back a sickly young woman from the slums located on Level Three out of the blue. "Nora, the living conditions on Level Three are very difficult. Anna is in poor health. I can't just sit by and watch her suffer." After that, Rhett carries Anna Archer into our home. I keep my gaze lowered as I remind him, "Don't forget that there's a strict population count on Level Two. The available slots in every family are fixed." "I know that. That's why you need to head down to the slums on Level Three to replace Anna for the time being. Once she recovers from her illness, I'll bring you home." The moment I hear Rhett's response, I remain rooted to the spot for a long time. After walking out the front door, I do my best to suppress the quiver in my tone as I call a number that belongs to Level One. "I've already thought it through. I've decided to join the project to end the apocalypse on Level One."

From the time I could count coins, my parents hammered one lesson home—if a boy did not start saving young, he would never have enough to win himself a wife. They opened a bank account in my name, vowing that money would only ever flow in, never out. And so, every birthday bill and crumpled allowance found a home in that card. I kept funneling every hard-earned paycheck into that same old account even after I moved to the city to chase my own future. At that point, that habit was done more out of reflex than reason. However, I was blindsided by acute kidney failure after years of working myself to the bone. Suddenly, that money was not just savings—it was my lifeline. My dad's voice trembled on the phone. He claimed he had forgotten the password and urged me to just take out an online loan for now. I hauled myself to the bank, my feet still shaky from my dialysis treatment. I clutched my ID, determined to file a loss report and reset the password myself. The teller's words froze me in place. "Sir, this account was emptied six months ago." Panic surged through me. I demanded a full printout of every transaction. The statement of the most recent transfer glared up at me from the paper, stating, "Wedding fund for our precious daughter, Natalia Callahan, plus the down payment for her luxury car."

After returning home from a flight, I realize that my bottle of hair conditioner has run out in the bathroom. The thing is, my husband, Carlos Zappa, doesn't use hair conditioner at all. Seeing Carlos through the frosted glass, I decide to probe him for answers. "Did any guests stay over lately? Or have you started doing hair care?" Carlos flips through the documents, which are stamped with the Zappa family crest, impatiently at my questions. "Maybe a maid accidentally toppled the bottle over when she was cleaning the bathroom. Also, why are you annoying me with such minuscule matters?" When I put on the bathrobe, I feel a ticklish sensation coming from the collar. As soon as I look down, I notice a strand of dried yellow hair being entangled in the collar. The moment the steam dissipates, I see two pairs of intertwining handprints on the bathroom's glass door. I never thought that my home would grow this popular during my one-week trip away from home. I've been married to Carlos for three years, and yet this is my first time finding out that he's actually this wild in bed. So, I secretly text my father, the Don of the Carozza family. "Dad, Carlos has cheated on me. Does the bet we made three years ago still count?"

Divorced and remarried—I've lost count of how many times Aaron and I stepped in and out of marriage. He once treated me like something precious, but less than a year after our wedding, he asked for our first divorce. The reason was simple, Vivian was coming back. "Vivian's a public figure," he told me. "I don't want anyone thinking she's involved with a married man." That third-tier actress had nothing but her father's sacrifice to her name. He had taken a bullet for Aaron—a life for a life. And because of that, Aaron believed he owed her everything. Every time Vivian returned to the country, Aaron divorced me. And every time she left, we remarried. The first time we split, I drowned my tears in whiskey and stumbled back to his house half-drunk. The lights inside were warm. He was with her. And I stood outside, shivering through the night. The second time, I tracked his every move—restaurants, auctions, charity galas—just to "accidentally" run into him again. Later, I learned better. The moment he mentioned divorce, I would quietly pack my suitcase and disappear from his mansion. My love and humiliation kept me trapped in that endless cycle of breaking up and coming back together. But this time, when Aaron waited for me at City Hall to remarry, I never showed up.

My back hit the cold wall of the Alpha’s packhouse, my breath hitched in my throat as the triplets closed in—Asher, Alaric, and Argent. Asher leaned in first, his mouth brushing against my ear. “Sign the contract, Alisha,” he growled. “You’re ours. Your body, soul, and every filthy little sound you make.” I swallowed hard as Alaric’s fingers traced a circle around my swollen areola in an infuriating slow-mo. “See, your body is already responding, stop pretending you don’t want to be ruined by us.” Argent stepped in last, his hand skimming under the hem of my dress. “You’re trembling, sweetheart. Not from fear… but from need. Say the word, and we’ll own every inch of you.” “And if I say no?” my voice was shaky as I bit down the moan crawling up my throat. The three of them exchanged glances and then turned to me. And like a rehearsed lyric, they all unisoned. “Then we make you beg on your knees. And we won’t stop until you forget your own name… just ours.” Asher grabbed my chin, tilting it up. “Last chance, sweetheart. Safe word or surrender.” My lips parted. “I surrender.” That was all they needed. Alaric was behind me instantly, lips on my neck, one hand wrapping around my waist, the other dragging the strap of my dress down torturously slow. “Good girl,” he murmured, his teeth grazing my skin. “You’re ours now.” •••••••• This is not just a love story. It’s survival. And it starts with rejection…

Ever wonder how one of the best days of your life turns into a lifelong nightmare? Two people, two different worlds yet bound by the same emotion, "HATE." Marriage is supposed to be an eternal bond filled with love and happiness. This was far from the truth for Asmaira and Amaan. Two broken souls entangle in the game of destiny, which ends their dream of everlasting love. For one, it was a journey of redemption, and for another, it was to seek vengeance. Amaan was forced to marry Asmaira, who knew how much he hated her, yet, she agreed to the marriage, knowing well the thorny path coming her way. What is the past that connects both Asmara and Amaan, and why do they hate each other so much without meeting each other? "Please......." was the only word she could say while trying to get out of his grip. "Please let me go," she stammered in between her hiccup, shaking her head with pleading eyes and folded hands. "Why are you scared, baby? I know I was wrong to not accept you as my wife, but now I want to correct my mistake. Let's start once again our marriage. How about I gift you something to celebrate?" He said near her ear, emphasizing the word 'gift.' Sensing her fright, he grabs her waist while using the other to stroke her cheek, "how about giving you a baby tonight?" Asmaira gaped. "I know it is your first time, and.." he trailed, hitching Asmaira's breath, "I would make sure you would never forget it."

Blurb. ~~~~~ It's rumored that Alpha Odysseus is insane and can easily kill thousands of enemies on the battlefield without blinking an eye, a complete lunatic on the battlefield but that was just a mere rumor, nobody is sure about it. His immense power was feared by everyone including other alpha's of different packs to the extent that all the ladies married off to him never lasted more than three months. ~~~~~~~~ SEVEN MONTHS AGO She met him when he was about to give up the ghost, he looked weak, with different bruises all over his body with torn clothes on his body but still, she saved him despite not knowing his identity. They stayed together discreetly inside her room for seven months without anyone knowing she had a man in her room, she fell first but she tried concealing those feelings of hers till that day he was nowhere to be found, he left her without a single word, no single traces of him was seen or heard. And just like that those fantasies of her ended but does it end there? No, she was married off to another pack and realized the stranger with bruises, the one who left without a word the powerful alpha whom she was married off to. It seemed to be a good start seeing that the man she yearned to love dearly is her husband but little does she know that was the beginning of her mistries at the hands of alpha Odysseus. Eileen saw a very big different side of the man whom she spent seven months with but she had never seen that deadly side of him until they met again as a couple. ~~~~~

Business. I hate that stupid word with a passion. I hate everything about it. Every time I see that awful word I turn the other way. How it made my family not to be a real family. How it made my brother busy with training. How it made my father always leave for trips. How it made me a human pincushion for my mother's fashion. How it brought me a marriage I didn't ask for. Business.- - - - - - - - - - -Bianca Harrison has had a wild twenty four years. Her brother, Blake, was always there for her. He would scare away boys who would come to take her on dates. He'd make sure she did her school homework. He did everything she expected from her father. Her nanny, Janet, from when she was a kid was always there for her. She was her shoulder to cry on. She'd make sure her room was clean and she had a good meal. She did everything Bianca expected from her mother.Bianca's boyfriend of four years just broke up with her. Bianca was heart broken. She went to her parents, who were home for once, and regretted it instantly. Her father said he had something in mind, but Bianca had no clue it would be this extreme. Having to marry her father's business partner Leon Bailey. The bachelor of New York. The man every girl swoons over. A thirty year old Greek God. Boy was she not excited.

Kevin, the elite bodyguard I'd spent ten years training, chose my adopted sister, Eva, over me when it came down to life and death. So I went straight to an underground fight club and picked out the craziest, most ruthless bastard I could find. A month later, Kevin got word and came rushing back, dragging his battered body past the guards at my door, fighting within an inch of his life. He knelt on the floor, eyes bloodshot, clutching the hem of my dress. "Principessa, what does that scarred stray have that I don't?"