Male Character Names

Akala ni Ellaine ay katapusan na niya nang mabangga ng isang malaking truck ang sinasakyan niyang kotse. Laking-gulat na lamang niya nang sa muling pagmulat ng kanyang mga mata ay nasa isang madilim na siyang kuwarto... sa kama ng isang hindi niya kilalang lalaki. Akala rin niya ay iyon na ang pinaka-wild na nangyari sa kanya pero hindi pa pala. Mas wild pa pala nang ma-realize niyang napunta siya sa loob ng romance novel na huli niyang nabasa bago siya namatay. Ang masaklap... ang kasalukuyan niyang katauhan ay hindi ang Female Lead, hindi rin ang kontrabidang babae, maski ang secondary character na bestfriend ng Female Lead ay hindi pa rin siya. Siya lang naman ay isang cannon fodder character na hindi man lang naabutan ang simula ng main plotline! May mas masaklap pa pala... ang lalaking nakaniig niya nang unang gabing napunta siya sa loob ng nobela ay walang iba kundi ang Main Villain– ang big boss ng mga big boss ng mga kontrabidang hadlang sa buhay ng Male at Female Lead! Ano na lang ang mangyayari sa kanya kapag nalaman ng malupit na Big Villain na iyon ang nangyari sa kanila? Sigurado siyang hindi na talaga siya aabutan ng pagsisimula ng main plotline kung mananatili siya kaya napagpasyahan na lang niyang tumakas at mangibang bansa. Wala nga lang sa mga plano niya ang sorpresang iniwan sa kanya ng unang gabing iyon.

I called my wife, a forensic specialist, after learning that my in-laws were involved in a car accident. It was on the 80th call that she finally answered, "I'm just trying to celebrate Justin's birthday for him. What's wrong with you? Can you not get jealous over just about anything?" I informed her that Mom, Dad, and sister had died in a car accident, and that she should hurry back to arrange for their funeral. To my surprise, she scoffed at my suggestion and replied, "What does your family's death have to do with me?" She was not involved in the funeral arrangements at all. On top of that, she even falsified evidence for her love interest—the culprit who killed her family—in court as a forensics specialist. Eventually, on the day I informed her of my intention to divorce, she threw a fit. "Patrick, it's just the death of a few of your family members. Justin didn't do it on purpose. It was just an accident. "Moreover, it's because of your parents' and sister's carelessness on the road that led to the accident. Why are you making things difficult for me and insisting on divorce? I've truly misjudged you…" Noticing the indignance in her response, I finally understood. It seemed she had no idea that it was her family that died in the accident all this while.

The night before our wedding, my fiancée let her so-called "best friend" butcher the gown my late mother had sewn, chopping it into a revealing mini dress. I rushed over with the ruined dress in my arms, ready to demand answers: only to catch their voices through the door: "Imagine him expecting me to wear something a dead woman stitched. What a curse!" Through the narrow gap, I saw my distant, frigid fiancée flushed with color, straddling his lap. "What we did at the bridal shop wasn't enough," she murmured. "Tomorrow, walking down the aisle in this tiny dress you made me, it'll be even more exhilarating." Their lips met. My hand froze against the door, and inside, something broke with a soundless crack. If she longed for thrills, I would grant her some.

Lee has been a rogue since she was five years old. What made her able to survive at such a young age, was her wolf, Suaco. Lee had been shifting ever since she could remember. She had been caught by a pack and kept in the dungeon, but she was rescued by the Lycan King since his little plaything was captured too. In her escape attempts from the grip of the Lycan King, Lee found herself attracted to the King. She has never been dominated by any male before, and what he is doing to subdue her, is causing changes in her mind. The Lycan King has another love, though, and Lee is not his soulmate either. Lee doesn't mind it since she has been alone for a long time, but having fun will not hurt anyone, except the jealous plaything the Lycan King had to rescue.

My wife's soul mate had Rh negative blood just like me. In order to make my wife happy, he donated his bone marrow to me then committed suicide. I was put on the blame for his death. Everyone blamed me for killing him. My wife who received his suicide note went crazy. She started to draw blood from my body. She was extremely cruel. "You owe that to me. He would not have died if not because of you. I am only returning to him something that did not belong to you." When the soul mate reappeared, my wife started looking for me like crazy. She did not know that I had died for losing too much blood.

Giovanna (Gina) Akir has a reputation that she's proud of. She's worked hard for years to cultivate this reputation, so why is she Going Rogue? "I pride myself on my reputation. I know that probably sounds strange coming from someone who is known as the pack s**t , but I’ve worked for a few years to establish myself as the woman who can help you deal with your stress and pain without adding to it. Becoming the pack s**t was never a goal of mine, and honestly, I hate the title, but it won’t deter me from what I do. My position in the pack does not mean that I’ll sleep with just anyone for any reason. I think of it like a service. I offer physical comfort to those in need, and although I don’t receive money for what I do, I like to think that I add value to the pack by helping our warriors to get out of their own head so they can do what they need to do." ***This is the story of a side character from my first book "Second Chance Luna" Each book will have some spoilers for the other, but you do not need to read either one to understand the other.***

Before our wedding, my fiancée, Sarah Hargrave—a professor of medieval history—held a private ceremony in a secluded chapel in the countryside. But not with me. Under the glow of candlelight, she cradled Benjamin Wheeler—her first love, his face gaunt from the cancer consuming him—in her arms. Her smile was soft, almost reverent, as she murmured, "In the eyes of God, vows made before the altar are the only ones that matter. Even if the law says I belong to Daniel, my soul was never his." And so, to the faint echo of hymns and the scent of old incense, they drank from the same silver cup, exchanged rings, and stepped together into the dimly lit sacristy—their makeshift bridal chamber. I watched. Silent. Motionless. No outbursts, no demands for explanation. Just the quiet dialing of a clinic to undo the vasectomy I'd gotten for our future. From fifteen to thirty, I had loved Sarah for fifteen long years. But in all that time, there'd never been room for me. That space had always belonged to Benjamin, my stepbrother. So I let her go. Afterward, I joined a geological research team bound for the isolation of Antarctica—a land cut off from the world, quiet and clean. Before I left, I handed Sarah a divorce agreement…and a final gift to mark the end. I never anticipated that Sarah, who'd always met my devotion with frosty detachment, who'd never once glanced back as I walked away, would look ten years older overnight.

When my best friend died, his wife, Mia Lewis, was eight months pregnant. Mia said she didn't want her baby growing up without a father. I owed my best friend my life. He saved me, literally pulled me from death's door. So I stepped up, marrying Mia and raising their son as my own. Mia loved her career, so I quit mine. Traded my job for diapers and school runs. For seven whole years, I cooked, cleaned, folded laundry, and handled the housework. Rain or shine, sickness or health, I was there—every single day. Mia, though? She stayed cold, distant. Her warmth only surfaced in the bedroom—and even then, it was a flicker, never a flame. Just soft sighs and breathy murmurs, like she was playing a role she couldn't wait to finish. Afterward, she would quietly check the condom, as if she couldn't trust me. Then came New Year's Eve. A snap. A tear. A broken condom. Her fury struck like a thunderclap. She locked me out on the balcony, left me standing in the freezing rain, soaked to the bone as the wind howled like a wounded beast. Teeth chattering, I shivered as I watched the door like a dog, waiting to be let in. Then I saw him. Our boy, Ethan Bailey. Six years old. My son, at least in name. He came running with an umbrella in his hand. For a second, my heart leapt. 'Maybe, just maybe…' But he didn't even look at me. Just walked past in silence and handed the umbrella to the nanny heading out. Right then and there, something inside me cracked. I knew it was time to go.

After being missing for eighteen years, I was finally found by my wealthy birth parents. The impostor—the young man who had taken my place all this time—dropped to his knees, sobbing. "Goodbye, Mom and Dad. Thank you for raising me. Now that Jason is back, this family doesn't need me anymore." My parents hugged him with heartbreaking tenderness. "Don't be ridiculous," they said. "You're our only real son." Even my fiancée confessed her love to him. "I don't care who you really are. You're the only one I love." They all orbited around him, like planets around the sun. When I was nearly killed in a car accident, they were too busy throwing a birthday party for his dog. So I packed my things in silence. Without a word, I accepted an invitation from the space agency to join a five-year satellite research mission in complete isolation. Yet after I left, it was like the whole family lost their minds. They scoured the entire country, desperate to find any trace of me.

I've raised my son, Caleb Bennett, for nine years, but today I found out he was never mine. Claire Bennett, my wife, shamelessly tells me to leave with nothing. She says Caleb's real father is Lincoln Lancaster, heir to the most powerful family in Berglaton. The Lancaster family has few direct heirs left, so if Lincoln acknowledges Caleb as his son, Lincoln can easily surpass his frail uncle and become the rightful successor. Caleb says, "You think you deserve to be my dad? My real father could crush your whole family with a snap of his fingers!" Margaret Quigley, Claire's mother, adds, "If Claire hadn't gotten pregnant with Lincoln's child back then, do you really think we'd have let someone like you marry into our family?" I don't fight back. I just sign the divorce papers in silence. After that, I take out my phone and call my father, James Lancaster, who has been waiting for me in Berglaton all these years. "Come pick me up on Christmas Eve," I say. "I'm ready to go home and take over the family."