Message In A Bottle Novels & Stories

A message came through on my husband's phone. 'Hey, baby. Hope this gets you nice and hard. Can't wait to see you tonight xoxo'. What? I was shocked! But I was even more shocked when I saw the picture. A woman in a skimpy, slutty, red lace bar. The bra was so sheer you could see her nipples. She had red lipstick, her face in a sexy pout. The woman was my husband's first love – Ellie! My husband was cheating on me? A wave of nausea washed over me. My heart raced. I felt dizzy. It was clear from the message that this wasn't the first time, either. I would never tolerate such a thing. I asked for a divorce and threw away my wedding ring. He would definitely regret it when he found out I was actually a billionaire. But so what? I don't care.

Kenzy is a journalist who had just found out her boyfriend was cheating on her with their neighbor. Angrily, she calls off her engagement with her ex boyfriend Raymond and leaves the house. In a bid to get the horrible thoughts in her mind, she gets drunk and sends a message to the wrong person. Dylan is a werewolf, he had found out his secret and moved out to stay with his pack member. An unexpected thing happens when he receives a message from Kenzy, his long time friend and he doesn't resist telling her he was in town and they could meet up. Kenzy discovers something about Dylan had changed over the time. Now, she is determined to find out what happened the day he flew into the woods covered in blood. Will Dylan take this as a threat or will he reveal his identity to her? Will a werewolf fall in love with a human? Forsaken his mate to be with her?

On my birthday, Rowan Shore ditches me for the 99th time to run to his suicidal true love. I tell the system, "I'm done with this mission. I've had enough." For years, I have tried every trick in the book, but I can't win Rowan's heart. The system says that if I die in this world, I'll return to my original one. The first time, I slit my wrists in the bathroom. Rowan kicks the door down, sends me to the hospital, and berates me for using self-harm to snare his attention. The second time, I swallow an entire bottle of sleeping pills. He bursts in at the last moment and sobs while holding me. He says he knows he messed up. There's still a third time, a fourth time, and more, right?

The new reporter intern deliberately falsified the situation at the fire scene to secure a full-time position and create a headline. Because of her, firefighters who rushed in to fight the fire and nearly a thousand company employees were killed in an explosion. There were no bodies left to salvage. My husband, who was also my superior, gave false testimony for her sake and claimed I was the one who had made the decision. I lost my job, and everyone cursed me, telling me to die. On the day of the trial, a grieving family member of one of the victims threw a bottle of acid at me. I died in unbearable pain as the acid ate me alive. Meanwhile, my husband was busy comforting the intern. "Don't be afraid. She deserved this." When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day she made that false coverage.

I'm staring at this man who looks exactly like my husband, overwhelmed by fear, as I received a message that read, "He's not your husband!"What's even more bizarre is that the name displayed as the sender of the text on my phone is "My Dear Husband"!Who on earth should I believe?

Queenie Livingston, my best friend whom I have cared for over the years, gives me a bottle of perfume. I immediately turn around and pour its contents down the toilet. In my previous life, that perfume made me sprout hair all over my body and reek. I was shunned by my colleagues, and my then-boyfriend and superior, Preston Zimmerman, wasted no time in dumping me and hooking up with Queenie. I desperately sought medical treatment back then, but with nowhere left to turn, I died in utter agony and despair. Only after my death did I learn that the grotesque condition was caused by the perfume Queenie had maliciously tampered with. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the exact day Queenie gave me the perfume.

“Ms. Arnold, you really should sign this divorce agreement. Otherwise, I won’t be able to answer to Mr. Fisher.” Jeremy Fisher’s personal lawyer, Cole Stewart, stood in front of Hailey Arnold with an anxious expression. In his hands were a freshly printed divorce agreement, the pages still crisp. This was the thirty-third time Jeremy had asked to divorce her. The first time, Hailey climbed onto the rooftop and jumped. She survived but broke one of her legs. The second time, she slashed her wrist with a small knife, and blood flooded half the bathroom. The third time, she swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills and spent three days in the hospital having her stomach pumped. … Every single time, she had used death to force Jeremy to compromise, but this time, she was tired of it.

Alexis, the sheltered daughter of a wealthy family, is engaged to Ryan, a charming but untrustworthy man. Her world shatters when an anonymous message leads her to discover Ryan’s affair with her best friend, Sophia. Torn and betrayed, Julian, a rival from another influential family, offers a lifeline, an unexpected proposal for a contract marriage.

A single message at 2:17 AM changed everything. “Follow the instructions.” At first, it felt like a joke. A random message from an unknown number. Easy to ignore… until it wasn’t. When the instructions start getting personal, too personal, he realizes something is watching him. Learning him. Controlling every move before he even makes it. Then he meets her. A girl who has already been through it. A survivor of the system. Someone who knows the rules… and the consequences of breaking them. But there’s one problem. The system doesn’t make mistakes. And it doesn’t let people go. The more he resists, the deeper he’s pulled in, into a hidden network built on control, prediction, and manipulation. Every choice feels like his own… until he realizes it was never his to begin with. Now, he faces an impossible decision: Follow the instructions… Or risk losing everything, including the people he’s trying to protect. Because in this system… Freedom isn’t given. It’s taken.

I confirmed Vincent Lowe was cheating on me on the day of our third wedding anniversary. The dining table was filled with dishes, yet he barely touched his fork before heading out the door. "Where are you going?" I asked. His answer was unnervingly straightforward. "A friend's treating me to dinner. Cassidy Mason—you know her, right? It's a free meal. It'd be a waste not to accept." An hour later, however, I received a voice message from Cassidy. In the message, Vincent's voice was lighter and livelier—so different from how he ever sounded with me. "They say you should marry someone you can truly enjoy a meal with. I really regret meeting you so late. If only I had known you earlier, I would've married you instead." I listened in silence. Then, alone at the table, I finished every last bite of the meal I had prepared. Afterward, I left a divorce agreement behind.