My Comatose Husband Wakes Up Novels & Stories

My story revolves around Molly who conspires with Samantha, the wife of a prominent TV host to expose him for being unfaithful so that she could make his competition to rise which ironically is the fact that The TV host Charlie is a show host for a cheaters show.

Fresh out of a shattering divorce, Sarah Nakitende has put her life together on her own terms and on her own conditions. However, her life takes a dramatic turn when a stranger literally runs into her and spills a cup of coffee all over her. The stranger, an artist named Amon Kato, sees beauty in the world that Sarah has learned to see only in terms of danger and risk. Theirs is an immediate, unsettling, and dangerous connection. As Sarah starts to think of a future that does not define her in terms of survival, her past starts to catch up with her. Her ex-husband returns, seeking to reclaim the power that she has managed to take away from him. He wants to take back the power that she has managed to claim for herself. Sarah is forced to choose between healing and being on her own. Some loves to ask you to feel. This one demands you fight. And not everyone walks away unscathed. Eight months have passed since Sarah Kato’s nine-year-old daughter died from cancer, and she’s barely making it through each day. Her grief has destroyed her marriage, torn her son apart, and changed her once-warm family into a cold and empty space. Each day is a battle to survive, and each breathes makes a conscious decision to keep going. When Sarah finds a way to channel her grief into a memorial fundraiser to celebrate her daughter’s life, hope begins to return for the first time since her death. However, this hope comes at a price: her teenage son’s grief turns violent, her marriage teeters on the brink of collapse, and just when her family seems to be coming together again, Sarah finds out she’s pregnant again.

Five years ago, Elara Vance poured her heart into letters for a boy she had never met letters that kept him alive during his darkest days. But when her closest friend stole her identity, Elara never corrected the lie. That friend, Selene Ward, died of a terminal illness, leaving behind a legacy Elara could never claim. Now married to Mason Lorne the man who once loved her words but believes they belonged to Selene, Elara lives under the shadow of a ghost. Mason’s heart still belongs to the dead, and every act of kindness Elara shows is twisted into proof of her supposed jealousy. When an unexpected encounter with Selene’s grandmother reignites old wounds, Mason’s accusations grow crueler. Pressured by both families for an heir, trapped in a loveless marriage, and silenced by the weight of her own guilt, Elara makes a choice to disappear. But in her absence, she leaves behind the truth. And when Mason finally sees it, regret will be his only companion

After being publicly betrayed by her unfaithful ex-boyfriend and her two-faced best friend, Ariana is determined not to show up at their high-society wedding alone. In a moment of desperation, she heads to the Rosewood Hotel to hire a professional actor to play the part of her devoted, successful new boyfriend. However, a case of mistaken identity leads her to "hire" the wrong man. Enter Adrian Sterling: a cold, powerful billionaire who is actually at the hotel to close a multi-million dollar deal. Intrigued by Ariana’s fiery spirit and her ridiculous proposition, Adrian decides to play along, stepping into the role of a lifetime. As Mark and Lucia grow increasingly suspicious of Adrian’s impossible perfection, Ariana finds herself trapped in a web of lies with a man she can’t control. What started as a one-night play evolves into a high-stakes contract that takes Ariana from her modest life into the exclusive world of Ford City Heights. Between "fake" kisses that feel far too real and a billionaire who refuses to follow her script, Ariana must navigate a world of corporate sabotage and old-money secrets. She wanted a distraction to save face, but she ended up with a storm that is about to rewrite her entire life.

When I'm seven years old, my dad turns me in to the Court Judgment of the Born Wicked because of my tendency to vomit. If I'm found guilty, my blood ties with my dad will be forcibly severed. Then, I'll be sent to prison. Everyone claims that Dad is just making a fuss over nothing. "Your daughter is still so young, so it's natural for her to fall ill. As a father, you should be more considerate toward her." But when the evidence is shown, everyone clamps up immediately. There was once when Dad drank so much to the point he suffered from gastric bleeding. The business contract that he managed to convince his client to sign was all soiled because I vomited on him as soon as he got home. Thanks to me, the contract was voided. Dad got fired on the spot. During Bryce Fuller, my older brother's birthday, I vomited onto his birthday cake in front of his classmates. Because of that, Bryce was isolated by all of his classmates. He became so depressed that he tried to slit his wrist in an attempt to take his own life. I'll keep vomiting everywhere, be it at the dining table or on my bed. Dad and Bryce have to clean me up more than 30 times every day. They suffer greatly because of me. What angers everyone the most is that after I'm done vomiting, I'll laugh at everyone in a provocative manner. The judge gives his verdict instantly, claiming that I'm wicked by nature. Bryce's eyes redden immediately. As he cries, he tells me that he can't bear to see me leaving him. I never shed any tears, nor do I throw a tantrum. Instead, I accept the judge's verdict calmly, but with a prerequisite condition that the judge finishes watching my memories. The judge is shocked, to say the least. "We'll have to crack your skull open in order to extract your memories. You'll be in a world of pain. Are you sure about that?" I nod in determination. But Bryce, on the other hand, looks alarmed. "I won't agree to that!"

I lost my dear son, Henry, to a traffic accident. He had been on his way to one of his part-time jobs. Despite working a lot, my son was still a top scorer on the SATs. “Mom, I don’t want treatment,” he begged with his last breath. “I just want Dad.” In my despair, I called Matthew Foster, my husband, more than one hundred times, but he never answered. We had been married for eighteen years, but one day, he spent all of our savings in order to pay for the treatment of his deceased comrade’s son. That got us into a debt worth one million dollars. To help him pay for it, both Henry I and worked hard to earn money. My son went as far as working five part-time jobs a day! That accident cracked his head open and tore his stomach. He was in urgent need of money for treatment. Since Matthew was not responding, I had to leave Henry’s side to rush to his workplace, where I ended up hearing that he was throwing a party for someone else’s son because he had gotten into a prestigious school. “Mr. Foster gave Zack a seaside mansion, a luxury car, and a limitless black card in hopes that he will succeed in his future studies and have a smooth and healthy life.” As I watched my “poor” husband hug his comrade’s widow and son, I called him for the 101st time. “Henry wants to see you one last time.” “I’m busy right now, Wendy. Be good with Henry and wait a little while longer.” When Matthew hung up impatiently, I put down my phone in silence. I whispered, “Matthew, Henry can no longer wait for you.” At that moment, I decided that I was not going to wait for him anymore either.

When the murderer tortures me to death, my criminal investigator dad and chief forensic pathologist mom are cheering at my brother's match. The criminal saws off my tongue. He answers my Dad's call with my finger. Just before the call ends, Dad's cold voice cuts through. "Playing dead, huh? We should never have brought him back." The murderer chuckles mockingly. "Looks like I grabbed the wrong kid. I thought they'd care more about their real son." When Mom and Dad arrive at the crime scene later, they stare at the mutilated body in shock and rage at the murderer's cruelty. But they never realize that the broken, bloodied body is their biological son.

Fashion meets Romance in this compelling drama! Meet Amelia Kurt, a young girl who dreams of being a well known fashion designer. Then there's Ryan Oswald, the billionaire CEO who is going to make it all happen. The two meet under unfavorable circumstances and start on a bad foot. Can they ride it out and achieve their happy ending or are they not meant to be?

Maynard Hansen planned a luxury birthday cruise for Darlene Thompson, but the cruise ship capsized when a violent storm swept in without warning. Without hesitation, Maynard gave the last seat on the lifeboat to Darlene. As I struggled in the water, my son, Waldo Hansen—whom I carried for nine months and gave birth to—cried out, "Don't let Mom up! She'll push Ms. Thompson off." Clutching nothing but a broken plank, I somehow made it to shore. By the time I collapsed on the sand, I was frozen, exhausted, and done. I had never felt so alone. Shortly after, I found myself clutching a diagnosis of severe depression in my hand. I was ready to bring this wretched life to a quiet end. But when my husband and son realized I truly didn't want to live anymore, they collapsed into tears. They wrapped their arms around me as they sobbed, "Please don't leave us. We really can't live without you."

I’m Daisy Valence. Eighteen. The favorite daughter of the Valence family. I woke up and found myself eight years in the future. Not only was I married to my nemesis, Lorenzo Astor, but we had a four-year-old son. Even crazier, the future me was a stone-cold snake, plotting to gut Lorenzo's operation while planning to run off with her "lover" after the divorce. And this "lover"? Just some nobody from the slums I was bankrolling. I must have lost my mind. Just as I was about to cut ties with all of them and get my free, single life back... I found the love letters Lorenzo wrote me, a secret stash of things I’d used, and a phone filled with my pictures… Then he grabbed me, his eyes bloodshot, and held me so tight I could barely breathe. He growled, "Who the hell gave you permission to leave me?" "I never agreed to any divorce, my wife."