Mind Control Mom

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.

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."

When the heat wave hit, I was working at the National Weather Service and was the first to spot the climate irregularities. I warned my family to get ready ahead of time. My parents trusted me without question. They even proposed starting a "family survival fund." They told me to use the savings I'd built up since graduating to stock up on supplies, promising that they and my little sister would chip in every dollar they had too. If we were going to make it, we had to stick together as a family. I smiled. "Sure. I'll take care of the plans." That same night, I converted every penny into gold and locked it in a safe. I also went all out into building an apocalypse-proof bunker. When doomsday finally came, they showed up demanding the money we'd pooled together. "Hand over all the gold," they said coldly. "A deadweight like you is just wasting resources by staying alive." Smiling, I tossed them the safe with the gold inside, then sealed the bunker, locking them out completely. Laughing triumphantly, they opened the safe… and stared in shock at what they saw inside.

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.

Madison Hodge, my fiancee, thinks that weighing 160 pounds makes me too fat. So, I sign up for a gym membership and work out as much as I can. But the more I exercise, the more weight I put on. Meanwhile, Daniel Webb, a good buddy of mine, livestreams his supper every night. Despite feasting on the most calorie-rich food out there, not only does he not put on any weight, but he even loses ten pounds. As Madison rips into me for not losing any weight, I suddenly find myself able to hear the thoughts of my tabby cat, Furball. His mind goes, "Why are you so silly, Master? Daniel chose you as his target for the Weight Swapping System he has! No matter how many pounds you work off, it's Daniel who loses the weight. He's trying to ruin your life!" Feeling completely stunned, I turn to Daniel, only to see that he's staring at Madison with an affectionate gaze. Once again, I hear more of Furball's thoughts. "Daniel is hopelessly in love with that awful woman. Once he slims down, the two of them will start hooking up. They'll team up to take your life and live off your life insurance payout. They'll even enjoy their intimacy during your funeral!" Now that I know the truth, I simply let out a chuckle. Since this good buddy of mine loves losing weight so much, I'm sure he'll be extremely grateful to me if I make sure he weighs no more than 100 pounds, right?

Her aunt sold her at eighteen… to a ruthless billionaire, Thomas Brooks, to save her dying brother. She lost her baby, her name, and three years of her life to a monster who treated her like she was nothing but a worthless possession bought with money. And on the night she finally broke free from him, she fell into the arms of the one man she was never meant to touch… her stepson, George. One night of reckless, forbidden passion gave her a child she kept a secret, and a shame that haunted her for many years. Now, six years later, Alice Cooper is no longer that desperate girl who begged to be seen. She's the queen of a half-billion-dollar empire, and the city that once crushed her now bows to her feet. But the past catches up to her sooner and faster than she could ever imagine. Thomas is losing money, and his empire is crumbling… and now he comes crawling back to her, begging for help. Her aunt, Samantha gives her an ultimatum… help Thomas rebuild his empire or watch her darkest secret exposed to the world. With threats closing in and the safety of her child hanging on the line, Alice must decide… assist the same people who broke her, to keep her secret buried… or destroy them all, even if it means risking everything she has ever built.

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.

I finally recovered my sight. Just as I was about to tell my parents about it, a slip of paper on the table caught my attention. "Don't tell your parents you've recovered your sight."