Mud Wrestling Novels & Stories

In order to protect me, Don Salvatore deliberately announces that my fiance, Simone Pozzi, is his long-lost son. Simone shakes with excitement when he sees the man in a bespoke suit stepping out of the Rolls-Royce that is parked outside my house. Just as I'm about to tell him it's all a lie, he shoves me aside. He even brushes his sleeves in disgust, as if he has touched something filthy. Simone says, "Stay away from me. Don't let your poverty rub off on me! Since I'm the Don's son, we'll call off our engagement. An illegitimate bastard like you isn't even fit to wipe my shoes!" When I try to explain, he cuts me off by writing out a check and flinging it hard into my face. The sharp edge of the paper slices across my cheek. "Take this one million dollars as our breakup fee and don't bother me again. We're no longer from the same world," Simone says. I watch the check flutter down into the mud and quietly turn off my phone screen. On the screen is a message Papa—Don Salvatore—has just sent me, "Just bear with it a little longer, Principessa. Papa will bring you home soon to take over the famiglia." Simone is so determined to cut himself off completely. He might have the luck to claim a fortune that big, but not the life to enjoy it.

On the day I rejected Isabelle Hale, Wall Street's newest golden girl, everyone thought I had lost my mind. She had everything: a Wharton degree, a national finance championship, a perfect family name, and a résumé polished enough to make doors open before she even knocked. But I knew what was hiding behind that name. Fifty years ago, her grandfather stole my grandmother's acceptance letter, her New York scholarship, and the future she had earned with her own hands. He used them to escape an Appalachian coal town with another woman, then built himself into a celebrated Ivy League professor who lectured rich students about ethics. My real grandmother, Grace Walker, was left behind in coal dust and shame. My mother grew up carrying the weight of that stolen life. They lifted me out anyway. I made it all the way to Manhattan, to a glass conference room at Northbridge Capital, where Isabelle sat across from me in a black suit tailored like victory. She thought her family name would protect her. She thought I would bow. Instead, I closed her file and said, "You didn't pass." By the next morning, they had fired me, dragged my name through the mud, and turned a press conference into my public trial. They forgot one thing. I didn't climb to the top of Wall Street to beg for a seat at their table. I came to take back every name, every chance, and every voice they stole from women like us.

The mafia king won't kill his nineteen-year-old son Leo when he finds out he’s weak and likes males. Instead, he sends him to hell. The Forge, a secretive prison camp hidden within the forest, is where affluent families send their "weak" sons, hoping to mold them into strong men. Leo was stripped of his clothing, shaved, and assigned the number 402; he was dug into freezing mud, subjected to beatings, and then left in complete darkness. Viktor, the strong, hardened guard, has been observing Leo with a wary gaze for years, acting as his personal handler. Viktor is meant to kill him. Instead, as the cameras stop rolling, Viktor lowers the whip, pushes Leo against the wall, and kisses him like a man who has been waiting too long. He moans into Leo's mouth, "I'm paid to break you, but I'd rather keep you." Every harsh day in the pit and every covert touch at night drives them deeper into the fire of forbidden love. But Leo's own father told Viktor to kill Leo and submit proof if he doesn't turn hard in thirty days. A jealous ex wants Leo to die. A shattered youngster from Leo's past is hiding a terrible rebellion. And the man Leo is falling for is the same one who was told to kill him. In a city made to break hearts, one wrong kiss may save them or set everything on fire. The Forge is a raw MM mafia romance that is dark, twisted, and dangerously addicting. Love is the most violent weapon of all.

“I know you’re pregnant, Valentina. That’s why you have to die tonight. Two lives for the price of one. Efficiency was always my strong suit.” On her third wedding anniversary, Valentina is gifted a shallow grave. Her husband, Kennedy, was never a billionaire. He was a fraud who drugged her, watched her drown in a poisoned bath, and buried her so he could marry his mistress. He never expected the gardener to hesitate. Never imagined she would claw her way out of the mud, pregnant, broken, and alive. And he certainly didn’t expect her to return. Dragged from the storm by Ian Kingston, a titan so powerful Kennedy is nothing more than a disposable employee, Valentina finds herself mistaken for Misha, Ian’s vanished wife. “You have 365 days to prove you aren’t her, little bird. Until then, you wear my name, share my bed, and follow my rules.” Trapped in a ruthless case of mistaken identity, Valentina signs the contract and becomes Misha Kingston, cold, untouchable, wrapped in emerald silk and Ian’s dangerous protection. The next time Kennedy sees the wife he buried, she isn’t in a coffin. She’s on his boss’s arm. Wearing a crown. Looking down at him from a throne he can never touch. But Valentina hides a child conceived by her enemy… While being claimed by a king who refuses to let her go. He buried a wife. Now he’ll kneel before a goddess.

My boyfriend's childhood friend, Cassandra Lindth, performs one of the forbidden spells, trading 30 years of her own life just to steal the top spot on the civil service exam from me. She pulls off a 30-day miracle and becomes an internet sensation, her comeback going viral. Meanwhile, I take the fall, get reported for cheating, and am banned from ever taking the exam again. I turn to my boyfriend, Derrick Hayes, for help, but the look he gives me spells pure disbelief. "Have you completely lost it? You couldn't pass on your own, and now you're trying to drag Cassandra's name through the mud? I never imagined you'd stoop this low!" I am speechless, with no way to prove my innocence. Cassandra sues me for defamation, and Derrick shows up in court to testify against me. I have studied for three years straight, and it ends with a three-year prison sentence. My parents are disappointed with me. They go so far as to publish their statement in the newspapers, publicly shaming me. Derrick and Cassandra announce their wedding online and are set to dive into their new jobs as soon as the honeymoon wraps up. With no way to clear my name, I spiral into despair. Disoriented and numb, I fall into the river and drown. When I open my eyes again, I am back to the week before the civil service exam. I toss my exam ticket in the trash and sign up for a three-month temp gig instead. If Cassandra is dumb enough to trade 30 years of her life for my spot, she can have it and choke on it!

"I'm sorry, Anna. I've made a mistake that can never be forgiven." My Alpha mate, Alan Thorne, is drugged with a powerful aphrodisiac—one only a she-wolf's touch can neutralize. His assistant, Leah Hawke, takes advantage and sleeps with him. Alan and I have been bound by a mate bond for eight years. His heartfelt apologies make me believe it is nothing more than a tragic accident. But six months later, everything falls apart. When I hear Alan is caught in a landslide during a business trip, I rush to his side without hesitation. I find him lying in the hospital bed, staring at Leah, guilt weighing heavily in his eyes. "Leah is three months along with my pups. She risked everything to save me, clawing through mud and rocks with bare hands until they were raw and bleeding. "Baby, I swear, you're the one and only Luna. But please... Let me make this right. Let me take care of her until the pups are born." Leah breaks down in tears, pleading, "These pups are innocent. Please don't punish them." At that moment, I feel like the villain tearing a family apart. With bitterness burning in my throat, I rasp, "Alan, you have to choose. Either end our mate bond or banish Leah from the pack." Alan shakes his head, anguish deepening his expression. "I can't break our mate bond, but I also can't turn my back on Leah. That's not who I am." In the end, Leah gives birth to twin pups. The entire pack celebrates, but not me. I already know my time here has come to an end. "Well, Alan, since you can't decide, I'll be the one to vanish from your world."

After dating him for five years, my boyfriend, Jayden Porter, sends me 10 dollars. He asks me to buy our future matrimonial home with that money. That same day, he transfers 3 million dollars to his dream girl, Lina Doux, to buy her a grand detached villa in Centralis. I decided to break up with him out of frustration, but he accuses me of being greedy for money. "Your house is still livable, so why buy another one? When did you become such a gold digger?" "Lina and I are childhood friends, so what's wrong with me giving her money? "On the other hand, you're scheming to get your hands on my wealth despite us not being married yet. I'm so disappointed in you!" He turns around and proposes to Lina. Six years later, we encounter each other again in the werewolf kingdom based in Centralis—the Darkmoon Kingdom. He's about to become Centralis' Beta. Lina is by his side, wearing a haute couture dress. When he sees me covered in mud and rummaging through trash, he mocks me with disgust, "You looked down on 10 dollars back then, Emily Everhart, but now you're digging through trash cans like a beggar. "Do you think you'll be able to earn money by selling scraps? Even if you put on a sorry act in front of me, I won't show you any pity!" I glance coldly at him and continue to search for my pup's favorite ring. I had unknowingly discarded it like common trash. My pup, Cassidy Holstrom, is incredibly upset about it. As such, I have to find it quickly to cheer her up.

He shattered her heart to avenge a past that wasn’t hers. Now he desires her in his bed—as his wife. Marceline Valino once believed in love. She gave her heart—and her innocence—to Cross Dejava, the boy who whispered promises in the dark, igniting dreams of a forever that felt so real. But by morning, her world was left in ruins. Private photos were leaked, her name dragged through the mud, and at the eye of the storm? Cross, smirking, cold, and ruthless. “You mean nothing to me,” he said, delivering a blow that would leave scars. “You’re just the bastard daughter of my father’s mistress.” His vengeance had never aimed at her heart; it was meant to punish the daughter for her mother’s sins—an ex-lover who had torn his family apart. Pregnant and abandoned, Marceline begged for mercy, but all she received was the echo of his silence. When she lost the child, she lost every last piece of the girl she used to be. Now, five years later, she’s preparing to return—broke, desperate, and willing to do anything to save her ailing mother. Anything… except this. Because the man extending a lifeline isn’t a savior. It’s Cross. And he has no desire for her heartfelt apologies; he craves her complete submission. A contract marriage awaits her. No love. No escape. No mercy. But Marceline isn’t the naive girl he once broke. She’s a woman who has risen from the ashes, ready to play his game. And as the pieces of their lives fall into place, she’s determining when—exactly—she will ignite a fire that could burn it all down. The future promises a reckoning, and she's preparing to seize it.

I stood at the edge of Ironwood territory, boots sinking into mud as cold seeped through my coat. I hated being this close to their land. It smelled like wet dog, testosterone, and trouble. “You’re late, witch.” The voice hit low and deep, vibrating through the ground before it reached my ears. I didn’t flinch. I refused to give him that. I turned slowly, amethyst eyes narrowing as I found him at the tree line. Guilermo Santander. He stepped into the gray light, rain sliding off his broad frame. Six-foot-five of pure menace. Dark hair plastered to his forehead, silver streaks catching the gloom, and those amber eyes—burning straight through me. “I’m not late,” I said calmly, though my pulse spiked. “You wolves just don’t understand patience.” He stopped three feet away. My skin prickled as the runes along my ribs flared hot, reacting to the dense magic rolling off him. Suffocating. Intoxicating. “And you witches don’t understand territory,” Guilermo said. He didn’t sound feral. He sounded tired—like a man carrying a century of weight on deceptively young shoulders. He leaned in and sniffed near my neck. I stiffened. “You smell like sage and burnt sugar,” he murmured, voice dropping, darker now. “It’s giving me a headache.” “Then stop breathing,” I snapped. One corner of his mouth lifted, a flash of sharp canine. “Make me.” The air between us snapped tight. My magic stirred, violet haze curling from my fingertips without permission, brushing the leather of his jacket. He didn’t pull away. He leaned closer. And standing there in the freezing rain with a man who could tear my throat out, I realized two things: Elder Sibal was wrong—Guilermo wasn’t a monster to be chained. And I was in serious trouble.

I stand before the judges at the jewelry design competition and admit to plagiarism. Then, I announce my withdrawal from the contest, along with my resignation as Design Director of Fairchild Group. My fiance, Caleb Fairchild, shoots daggers at me. "If you walk away from this competition, our engagement is off!" My father follows up by slapping me across the face. "First, you plagiarize your own sister, and now you're breaking off your engagement with the Fairchilds? Are you trying to ruin our family?" "Oh, I'm not just calling off my engagement. I'm also cutting off my ties with you," I respond apathetically. I make this decision because I have been given a second life. In my previous life, my stepsister and I competed in this contest. First place earns the title of the nation's top jewelry designer and 50 million dollars from Fairchild Group. However, round after round, her designs are exactly the same as mine, and she submits them before I do. The judging panel gives me a pass because of Caleb and lets me advance to the finals, but not without a warning to never plagiarize again. I refuse to believe it. I switch to a brand-new computer, lock myself in my room, and pour everything into a new design. Yet, when the final designs appear on the big screen, history repeats itself. In the end, my sister takes first place and walks away with everything that should have been mine. The reputation I painstakingly built is ruined, and my name is dragged through the mud online. My parents are ashamed of me. They knock me out and sell me off to the countryside to marry an old man. Ultimately, I die after endless abuse. When I open my eyes again, I'm back at the semifinals. Everyone is pointing at me as they stare at the two identical designs.