Novel & Cerita Misteri Gloomy Sunday

Following the success of her two novels, Cela receives an offer for the TV adaptation of her stories but a third story has to be written soon to complete a three-story special. She is not in to the project until she rediscovers the paper bearing the address of the meeting place of her supposed first date with Nate. Now that her mother is no longer around to interfere, she becomes inspired to reunite with him after many years and hopefully write the third novel based on their new story. Unfortunately, he is now about to get married in two months. Disappointed with the turn of events, she decides not to meet him again. She visits their old meeting place and finds it a good place to write but unexpectedly meets him there. They agree not to talk to each other if they meet there again but fate leads them to meet again under different circumstances leaving them no choice but to speak to each other. Suddenly, Nate’s fiancée starts acting weird and suggests that he spend the weekend with Cela while she is away. Although it confuses him, he figures that it is her way of helping him get closure. The two spend one Sunday reminiscing the past expecting a closure in the end but the wonderful moment they share this time only makes it harder to achieve that closure so Cela has to put a stop to it saying, “Please don't think even for a second that there is still something left or something new to explore after everything that happened or did not happen. This is not a novel. This is reality. We don't get sequels or spin-offs in real life. We just continue. We move forward and that's how we get to the ending."

This story revolves around an imaginary world of a few kingdoms. Namely, Red Kingdom, Golden Haven, White Winters Land, The Great Myrtle Mountains, and Silver Heights. An ongoing war between Golden Haven and the barbaric beings threaten the balance of the supernatural world ~~~ Present Eve, a human is forcefully taken from her family to serve the Royal Pure Bloods. When Eve is taken, she is assigned to be a servant to the Dark Prince. Trapped cleaning the gloomy room most of the time, she finds comfort in the white roses placed in a small vase. The Dark Prince never wanted a personal servant but one look at the red head with bluish-green eyes forces him to give it a chance. His admiration slowly turns into obsession as he has never known what it feels like to fall for anyone. He begins to give into his possessive side and alienates Eve from her friends and family who are also taken during her time in the castle. Consumed by loneliness, Eve grows closer to the white roses. Soon after she learns more about herself and the truth behind those white blossoms of hers. Eve faces many challenges and hardships in the castle as a servant but she does not realize that there is much more to her than meets the eye. Eve has a much bigger destiny. So does the people around her. Follow them as they uncover the truth about themselves as the enemy becomes stronger on the other side of the world.

Amelia, a struggling single mother, dreams of providing a better life for herself and her 4-year-old daughter, Phoebe. Unbeknownst to Amelia, Phoebe carries the blood of a unique creature inherited from her gay father, Dave. Haunted by nightmares featuring werewolves and other underworld creatures, Amelia longs to escape the city and find solace in her own home. One serene Sunday afternoon, Amelia finds herself drifting to sleep beneath the shade of a magnificent tree near her dream house. Little does she know that Martin, the charismatic leader of the Tikaluna Tribe and a werewolf with a romantic soul, is about to enter her life. Martin is instantly captivated by Amelia's beauty and falls deeply in love with her. As their bond grows stronger, Martin presents Amelia with an enticing offer - a life filled with wealth, power, and love. However, there is a condition: she must leave her daughter behind. Determined to stay with Phoebe, Amelia challenges Martin to abandon his tribe and undergo a ritual that would strip him of his immortality, allowing them to live as mortals together. Meanwhile, the townspeople desperately seek Martin's aid in protecting them from the relentless attacks orchestrated by his rival beast clan. Martin finds himself torn between his duty to his tribe and his love for Amelia. Will Martin sacrifice his immortality for the sake of love? And will Amelia prioritize wealth and power over her daughter's happiness?

At another Sunday dinner at the Bellandi estate, Luca Bellandi's assistant, Ava Marino, was sitting in my seat. It was the first chair to Luca's right at the long walnut table, the seat everyone in Chicago's underworld knew belonged to Mrs. Bellandi. Ava sat there as if she had been born into it, her pale wrist brushing Luca's sleeve while she poured his wine. I stood in the doorway and looked at him. "She's in my seat. You don't have anything to say?" Luca raised his eyes. "You were late. Don't blame someone else for sitting down first. There are empty chairs over there. Sit if you want. If not, get out." The dining room went dead quiet, and before I could answer, his thoughts slipped into my ears. [Vivi, don't go. Come sit beside me. Tell them it's your seat. Tell me you still want to be my wife.] [Please get mad. Please care. Say you need me, and I'll give you the whole world.] In the past, those soft, trembling thoughts would have been enough. I would've swallowed the insult and stayed beside him like a loyal dog that didn't know when to leave. This time, I didn't. I slipped the wedding ring off my finger and laid it on the table. "If the Bellandi family can't even keep a wife's seat for me, then I guess this family doesn't need a wife anymore. Luca, let's get divorced."

His hand slid beneath her shirt, warm against her bare waist. “Tell me to stop,” he whispered against her neck. She trembled, every nerve on fire. “I don't want you too.” ~~~ Audrey Dauval’s life shattered the night she opened the front door and found her mother’s lifeless body soaked in blood on the front porch. Everyone said it was an illness. Everyone said she imagined what she saw. But she knew exactly what she saw that night. When her distant, broken father sends her away to live with family friends in the eerie town of Ravenfalls, she thinks the worst is behind her. But nothing in Ravenfalls is normal. The woods, the town, it's gloomy and holds secrets. Lots of them. At school, two dangerously gorgeous rivals lock eyes with her, and that’s when everything changes. But what she feels for both of them... she feels for a third. Born from a bloodline of legendary werewolf hunters, Audrey is the target of a vengeful rogue pack that killed her mother and now wants her dead. As forbidden bonds grow and fated connections spark, Audrey finds herself torn between love, war, and the truth of who she really is. Three boys. One mate. And she can only choose one or lose them all. Who would she choose?

Suddenly, in this lust-fueled frenzy between us, his blissful being was morphing into the same demon that was driving me insane; it didn't frighten me; in fact, I was waiting for this to happen. His eyes turned lava red, and his body twisted dangerously. "Sweet Teresa, I can not keep him any longer!" "Then, don't!" And in his rapture, he lost all control. He exploded inside of me with his throbbing enormous , sending me devilish vibes. His fangs were fully exposed, and his muscular torso was covered in white dazzling fur. I gasped, yelped for more, grabbed his fur from his back, begged him not to stop, and every movement was dominated by arousal spasms. Then, as the action reached its height, I sensed him getting closer, and I knew he would honor his promise to mark me. How did I know that? I simply knew! "Do it, Bash! Yes, do it"! So he sank his fangs not so deep in the hollow of my neck but enough to propel me to those craving peaks, all mixed with my own thrilling release. Now I was his. FOREVER! --------------- After the death of his father, Alpha Sebastian was left in charge of the Kielder Pack but away from his twin sister. Raising his pack in strength, his life changes radically when Teresa Bradley appears, an ambitious young photographer but with a past as gloomy as it is difficult to understand. Orphaned, chased by demons, with changes that occur one by one, Teresa is forced to accept her past and present, but is there room for Sebastian in her future?

He was her stepfather. He made her breakfast every Sunday while her mother was still alive. He was at her graduation. He kept a careful distance that Aurora noticed — and never examined. When her mother died, Aurora left and spent two years telling herself she had processed everything properly. She had not. Now her grandmother has handed her a red envelope with one name inside it. The same name. Aurora holds the note for a long time before she gets on the bus. Julian Oswald is forty years old. Cedar Falls knows him as a quiet widowed chef raising his daughter alone. What Cedar Falls does not know — what the entire culinary world has been trying to discover for years — is that Julian is the Ghost Chef. The anonymous billionaire behind the world's largest culinary empire. A face no one has ever photographed. His five-year-old daughter Lily has not spoken a full sentence since her mother died. She has not eaten voluntarily. Not for anyone. Until Aurora walks through the door. Lily says one word after two years of silence — a name she should not still remember — and Julian goes completely still on the porch. That is when Aurora understands she is not walking into a contract. She is walking back into the most dangerous kitchen she has ever been in. The one where everything between them has always been unspoken. The one where he still knows her breakfast order without asking. He was supposed to be off-limits. He was. He memorized her breakfast order anyway.

A dark and gloomy villa stood in the middle of the barren landscape, hidden from sight by a perched hedge. It was phenomenal and spectacular, but it makes it appear to have succumbed to a sullen and ominous atmosphere, both inside and out. A lanky hedge and gnarled shrubs give off the impression that the house has indeed been overlooked. The rainstorm seeping from the sewer pipes made the place appear miserable and dispirited. Needless to say, the house appeared razed to the ground and devoid of life. The house was made of rune stone that had been smeared darker in spots by downpours, sending it an insidious demeanor even during the day. The window frames were all padlocked and bricked up in steel frames and woods, as if what was inside would have been too grotesque to see, trying to give the impression that someone must have attempted to prevent something horrible from escaping. People have claimed that the residence was plagued by the witch who died there, but there has been no tangible evidence to substantiate their claims. It was even widely speculated that the villa was venomous and mowed down the leaves of trees that come into direct contact with its concrete pillars. People also construed a terrifying presumption that whoever tries to enter the house will never make it out alive because there is something inside that you would never dare to see with your very own eyes. Whatever was real or not, it was unmistakably foreshadowing, exponentially cold and savage at a hundredth of a thousand glances. A breathtaking doll sat competently on a rocking chair inside the house. Waiting complacently for someone brave and heroic enough to unravel the abominable and ghoulish mystery and paradox behind her enchanting, spine-chilling smile.

Everyone warned me never to fall for Dante Moretti. They said he was the ghost of the Velasco family—an underboss who ordered hits without blinking, his heart colder than the barrel of his gun. But when he bent me over that mahogany desk, his mouth against my ear commanding me to say his name, I was stupid enough to think that was possession. It took me an entire year to see the truth. The photographs locked in his study drawer were never of me. The woman in white waiting for him in the cathedral district on Sunday mornings was never me. The girl who took a bullet for him, the one he called his "salvation"—her name is Elena Abate. And Elena happens to be my stepmother's daughter. My father is trying to sell me to a half-dead Agosti heir for five hundred million to save the family. My stepmother is scheming to erase me from existence entirely. And the man I thought would burn this city to the ground for me? On the day I needed him most, he was lifting Elena up a flight of stairs, cradling her like something sacred. They all thought I was just a pawn to be moved around their chessboard. They were wrong. If Dante can't let go of his precious white moonlight, his "salvation," then I'll become someone else's "widow." If Elena believes she's already won this game, I'll let her watch from the front row as a woman with nothing left to lose burns it all down. My name is Serafina. Remember it. Because I am about to become the reckoning none of them saw coming.

My mother was asking me and my sister to choose the man we wanted to marry. My sister, surprisingly, did not choose the gloomy STEM student she spent four years pursuing. Instead, she went for the rich but infamous playboy. Shock colored my mother's face. "I know he's rich, Joan, but what if you get all known and unknown STDs? I thought you loved Gil. Are you sure you're making the right choice?" That did not sway my sister's mind. That alone told me what I had been suspecting all along. Like me, my sister was reincarnated. In our previous lives, she happily married Gilbert Terrason, but he left her on read for ten long years. His cold treatment drove her a little gaga. That playboy, however, stopped his philandering lifestyle for me and loved me like his life depended on it. He gave me all his riches, and we became the model couple everyone wouldn't stop talking about. Then, it happened during the ball. On my tenth wedding anniversary, my sister, consumed by rage, burned us into cinders. Here we were, on our second chance in life. This time, I took Gilbert's hand. "No takebacks, Joan. Don't try to do a third take." My sister snickered. "As to you. This time, all the love in the world is coming to me." Ah, yes, love. Joan still did not get it. Love was the most unreliable element in any marriage.