Mind Control Mom Novels & Stories

I opened my eyes to a dark, windowless room. Overhead, a voice crackled from the speakers. “Welcome to The Judgment Room. Each player will state the crime they committed. Do not lie. After all six of you speak, you will vote. The one with the most votes will be eliminated. “The game starts now.” In this deadly game, whose sins weighed the least?

On Father's Day, I received a heartwarming gift. My one-year-old son called me Dad for the first time. But moments later, he convulsed, foamed at the mouth, and died before we could reach the hospital. My wife was shattered, and I was devastated. The doctors couldn't identify the cause of his death. Three years later, my wife emerged from her grief, and we welcomed our second child. But the moment this child called me Dad, they, too, died instantly. To spare her further pain, I suggested adoption. Yet, even our adopted children met the same fate. Unable to bear the losses, my wife divorced me. Everyone said I was cursed, never meant to be a father. Defiant, I remarried and had another child, vowing never to let them call me Dad. For years, we adhered to this rule. But when our daughter turned four, she came home from preschool, eager to celebrate Father's Day. Holding a card, she read aloud, "Dad."

In my previous life, my sister, Clarissa Smith, and I were adopted at the same time. She chose the Newmans, a prestigious family of scientists, leaving me with an impoverished divorcee. But later on, the Newmans kicked her out, and her reputation was completely ruined. Meanwhile, I'd married rich and had tens of millions of dollars from the government's relocation compensation package. Clarissa couldn't accept how differently our lives turned out, so she stabbed me to death. When my eyes open once more, I find myself alive again. I've gone back in time to the day Clarissa and I were adopted. To my surprise, I can hear her thoughts. [This time, I'm going to be the one who gets rich overnight!] As it turns out, she has been reborn as well. Well, this time around, she can be the one who gets to endure the torment instead.

Feisty drummer Lukas Trent is very used to having things his way. He’s rich and famous, absolutely a ladies’ man. The last thing on his mind is settling down. Natasha Evans is a strong and independent woman, determined to be a single mom and control her life, steering it on the path she wants. Little do they both know, the universe has other plans. When Lukas and his band buy out the record label where she works, suddenly he is her boss and has to take over her duties while she has a baby. As if that wasn’t enough to make their strong personalities clash, they’re also neighbors! What will happen when Lukas realizes this little family is just on the other side of his wall? Can he let go of his attraction to her? Can she stop being a control freak long enough to let him into her heart? Find out on book four of the Feisty series! This can be read as a stand-alone novel but it would be best if the others in the series were read first.

On the seventh day after my daughter goes missing, I kidnap an entire kindergarten. I lock away all 27 students and two teachers in a classroom. I tell the police that if they can't find my daughter, I will kill a kid every 30 minutes. The principal falls to her knees, wailing and begging, "It's not my fault that your daughter is missing. Why should other children pay for it?" I glance at my watch. "29 minutes left. Find her." I know she's in this kindergarten.

He just got a breakup text from his girlfriend of two years. She, in turn, had just gotten stood up by her fiancé, who had planned a dinner date for that night, only to ignore her at the last minute. Winston and Ivy were just two strangers, both abandoned on Easter's Eve by the people they loved. They found themselves drawn together in the elegant Luciano’s restaurant, and in that shared moment of heartbreak, they found comfort in each other’s company, exchanging laughter and stories over a quiet table. What starts as a simple, playful connection soon deepens into something neither expected… a bond that grows stronger with each smile. But when their pasts come crashing back, and their exes threaten to tear them apart, will their newfound love thrive? Or will the hurts of their pasts force them to let go before their love story truly begins?

Zane Kessler, tough captain of the Thunder Wolves, has spent years vowing to crush Jaxon Caldwell, the fast, clever captain of the Storm Hawks. Their rivalry is brutal… hard checks, sharp words, pure hatred on the ice. But after Zane's team loses their biggest game of the season, Jaxon finds him alone in the empty locker room. An argument flares… then a simple touch turns into a soft, surprising kiss. Hate suddenly feels warm and confusing. From that moment, their rivalry begins to melt into something sweeter and deeper. But the hockey world isn't kind to feelings like this. Coming out could destroy their careers, and their teams would never forgive the captains falling for the enemy. Then the league drops the bombshell… the Thunder Wolves and Storm Hawks must merge into one team for the upcoming National Championship. To foster unity, Zane and Jaxon are forced to share a small apartment near the rink. They share the same space, the same locker room, and literally breathe the same air. At first it feels like torture… bumping into each other in the kitchen, sharing the couch after tough games, trying to act like nothing has changed. But the walls come down fast. Quiet talks turn into laughter. Simple meals become excuses to sit close. Stolen kisses in the dark hallway feel like winning the biggest game of their lives. Now they must lead their new team to the title while hiding a love that grows stronger every day. One wrong glance, one slip, and it could shatter everything… the championship, their careers, and the beautiful thing they’ve finally found. On the ice they were sworn enemies. Off it, they’re falling hard. And the closer they get, the more impossible it is to let go. Who will surrender first?

Nolan Shaw is the big shot on campus that everyone is intimidated by. He's also the guy I've been in love with for a while now. Out of nowhere, a new admirer of his pops out. She bears a striking resemblance to me. When I bring him his water, she beats me to it. When I write him a love letter, she tears it up. Finally, I muster up the courage to be honest with Nolan about my feelings—only for her to rush over and kick over the candles I prepared for the confession. That's when I finally lose my patience. "Just what on earth are you doing?" She ignores me and grabs Nolan's arm before saying, "I'll be frank with you. I'm actually here on a mission. You and Nolan will end up in a bitter marriage, hurting each other. So the system wants me to stop you two from being together." I don't believe a word she says, thinking that she's just lying to separate us. But at the very next second, I hear her thoughts. [Just what on earth did this scumbag do to make the 22-year-old Teresa fall so hopelessly in love with him? I bet she'll be heartbroken if she finds out that in the future, he'll find her boring and end up keeping 18 mistresses on the side. And after the divorce, he'll even make it hard for her to earn a living. She ends up dying of exhaustion, too!]

I suspected my husband was a detached ascetic. Every night, he'd skip to the backyard, muttering prayers under the stars instead of sharing our bed. When I slipped into something slinky, he'd frown and clutch his prayer beads like a lifeline. Now I was done with the cold shoulder, slapping a divorce agreement in his hands. That was when his thoughts started leaking into my head. "She touched me. Her hands are like silk. I'm dying to kiss her. When is she gonna be okay with me being a snake? I just want to cuddle her." "A snake?" I thought. "Does that mean he's packing two things? I have to find out." I leered at his chiseled frame, practically drooling. Before divorcing, I needed to test his things and my limits. I tripped purposefully and fell onto his toned pecs, ready to test the waters. "Whoops!" I gasped, setting the stage.

I am a doctor who specializes in treating infertility. People liked to joke and call me the "Life-Bringer." By day, I worked at the hospital, handling the toughest, most puzzling cases. By night, I used something called the Spirit Bride Rite, a long-lost ritual from ancient times to preserve a man's ability to have children, even after he had just passed. It was a method that went against nature and drained me dry, so I didn't take just any job. I worked for the wealthy. My starting fee was 600 thousand dollars. That day, I had barely taken a sip of champagne at a client's grandson's baby shower before an urgent request came in. If I counted right, this would be my 17th husband.