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You Don't Belong to My New Life

You Don't Belong to My New Life

After writing an essay about the future I wanted, I made a desperate appeal to my parents, just as Aaron Wade was likely doing in the hall of a business his family owned. The appeal lasted two days. Our demand was simple: annul the engagement between us. Others might have found this confusing, but I knew exactly why it mattered. In my previous life, I married Aaron and gave him everything. I devoted my career to him and stood at the peak of his business empire. He repaid me by forcing me to take the fall for Rebecca, a so-called heiress. I was arrested and sent to prison. "Had you not forced us into an engagement the moment you got into Iale University, I would have ended up with her instead," he sneered. "You owe her this, Bernadette. It's time you paid up." Even my own parents joined in. "You robbed Becky of what she deserves. Think of this as your divine retribution!" They had supported the engagement back then. Rage overwhelmed me and triggered a cardiac arrest. I died on the spot. While my body lay cold in the morgue, Aaron and Rebecca held a lavish wedding at a five-star hotel to celebrate their union. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day I had written about the future I wanted. Now I knew what that future looked like. It had none of these people in it. This time, I would live for myself.
2.1K viewsCompletedAdded to Library 55 Times as neil gaiman writing routine
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Love Crumbles on the Wedding Eve

Love Crumbles on the Wedding Eve

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.
6.8K viewsCompletedAdded to Library 256 Times as neil gaiman writing routine
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Goodbye to My Don

Goodbye to My Don

Vincenzo Moretti was Stonehaven’s youngest financial titan— a tech mogul commanding a multibillion-dollar empire, gracing the covers of business magazines as a modern legend. But only a select few knew the truth: he was also the ruthless Don controlling the East Coast mafia. To him, wealth and power were mere chips in a game. And I? I was just another pawn used to stabilize a fragile family alliance. In our ten-year marriage, he slept with my friends, my coworkers… every single person I once trusted. Then one morning, as I took our one-month-old baby for a routine checkup, Sienna Newton, his latest mistress, ran me down with her car. The baby screamed endlessly. I begged her to take us to the hospital, and when Vincenzo arrived, he looked at me with cold disdain. “Isabella,” he sneered, “when did you learn to stage accidents? “Even if you died here, I wouldn’t bat an eye.” Then he took Sienna’s hand and walked away without a backward glance. By the time I was rushed to the hospital, the child in my arms had suffocated. Upon hearing the news, my mother suffered a heart attack. She didn’t survive. I slipped into a coma for two days. When I finally woke up, I found out that Vincenzo never visited. Instead, his father, Renato Moretti, the true king of the Moretti empire, stood by my bedside. I looked at him calmly and said, “Let me go. Whatever I owed your family, I’ve repaid in full with two lives.” Later, that same Don who had once looked down on me knelt before me, begging me to come home. But I was no longer the woman who waited, silent and broken, for his change of heart. I was the Don’s wife who turned away and never looked back.
5.6K viewsCompletedAdded to Library 202 Times as neil gaiman writing routine
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Rule Number One: My Brother's Best Friend

Rule Number One: My Brother's Best Friend

"Rule No. 1: Don’t ask your brother's best friend to take your virginity Samantha had always ended relationships, since all men ever wanted was sex, when she wasn't willing they fled and never looked back—and in the quiet ache of wanting someone she can never have. Drew Carter, her brother’s best friend, has been her secret obsession since childhood. Smart. Gorgeous. Untouchable. But when Samantha turns twenty- four, she decides to break all the unspoken rules. With a heart full of nerves and a fire she can no longer suppress, she asks Drew for one reckless favor: take her virginity. No strings. They promise it won’t change anything. They were so wrong. Because once the line is crossed, there's no going back. Passion ignites. Old emotions resurface. And suddenly, everything—loyalty, friendship, and the safety of their past—is at risk. He was never supposed to want her. But some rules were made to be broken. Book 2 ~~~ Jazz thought she had everything a woman was supposed to want—a loving husband, a beautiful child, and a stable career. From the outside, her life looks perfect. But behind the routine of work, family dinners, and quiet nights lies a truth she can’t ignore anymore. She’s bored. Then she discovers The Weekend Club—a secret online community where ordinary couples escape their ordinary lives. At first, it feels thrilling… intoxicating even. But the deeper Jazz and her husband sink into the club’s seductive world, Trust begins to crack. And one reckless weekend sparks a chain of betrayal, obsession, and consequences no one saw coming. Because in The Weekend Club, every choice has a price. And once you step inside… there’s no such thing as just one weekend.
106.0K viewsCompletedAdded to Library 211 Times as neil gaiman writing routine
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Marked by the professor

Marked by the professor

“Get on your knees, my little pet," Jerome growled, his voice rough with command. His fingers tangled in my hair, guiding me down as my pulse roared in my ears. The heat of his body pressed closer, and I trembled not from fear, but from the dark thrill of surrender. "Show me how hungry you are." Rachel is a college senior studying art and design, and her life feels dull and uninspiring. She has been dating Jack since freshman year, but their relationship is lukewarm he doesn’t ignore her, but he doesn’t truly care about her either, especially since he’s always eyeing her best friend, Jessica. Rachel feels stuck in a routine, going through the motions without any real passion until everything changes when her drawing teacher gets into an accident. The school brings in a substitute Jerome, a young, breathtakingly attractive artist who immediately commands the room. Rachel tries to ignore the way her body reacts to him, but the pull is too strong. His gaze lingers on her a second too long, his voice sends shivers down her spine, and when he gets close, she can’t think straight. She knows it’s wrong teachers and students can’t be together but she can’t resist. Then she discovers Jerome’s secret he’s a werewolf, part of a powerful pack with three other dangerously seductive men Dante, Kade, and Elias. They’ve been watching her, waiting, and now that she’s near Jerome, their instincts take over. They growl, they claim, and Rachel, despite her fear, finds herself drawn deeper into their world. Drawn into a world of forbidden desire, Rachel surrenders to a passionate affair.
704 viewsOngoingAdded to Library 17 Times as neil gaiman writing routine
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Ten Ways To Kill Alpha PENKING

Ten Ways To Kill Alpha PENKING

“There’s no way to kill Alpha Penking.” “Maybe there’s one, make sure he has absolute power, never bows to anyone but will crawl to her feet each time she wants it.” Amelia’s first life ended when she was ten—when the most notorious Alpha in New York took everything her father owned and killed him. As if that wasn’t enough, he coerced her father into selling his only daughter before death claimed him. Fifteen years later, Amelia survives as a prostitute, her past buried beneath layers of control, routine, and silence. She lives for two things only: keeping her younger brother alive and nursing the revenge that never died. Every alpha is just a body. Every night is calculated. Her life is controlled—until the night she sleeps with him. The same man who ruined her life. Alpha Penking—feared, untouchable, merciless—without her knowing who he truly is. Yet, her world shatters again. Because Penking knows her. Because he watched her grow in the shadows. Because he knows her real name. Because he is the one who ruined her and owned her. Because he serves her a contract that doesn’t ask—it commands. A contract where she belongs to him. For months. For life. No bargain. No gain. Trapped between hatred and a bond she never consented to, Amelia begins counting the only freedom she has left—ten ways to kill Alpha Penking. But revenge grows complicated when obsession turns mutual, when power bleeds into possession, and when an impossible consequence binds them forever. Because the man she plans to kill now owns her body… And the child growing inside her might decide who survives.
10502 viewsOngoingAdded to Library 11 Times as neil gaiman writing routine
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His Silver Mate

His Silver Mate

Waking up, Eva realized she was naked in bed. Events from last night slowly crept into her mind. Even though she suspected her memories for a moment, the intoxicating scent, tingling of her skin, and the man beside her cleared all her doubts. Waking up beside their mate was a normal routine but in her case, the night was a one-time mistake. Minding the reality, she quietly slipped out of his hold, dressed up, and walked out of the room with teary eyes. Eva Silver, daughter of Grey Lake pack Gamma Robert Silver and the strongest she-wolf of her pack. All she wanted was the person who was born for her, her mate. She was waiting for him from the moment she turned eighteen. Meeting her mate was supposed to be the happiest moment for her but on contrary, she was disappointed with the man she met. Add on to her misery, the girl beside him introduced herself as his future Luna. Jake Smith, Alpha of North Mountain Pack. North Mountain was a small pack but no one dare to step on its wrong side because of its horrible reputation which included killing their own mates. Jake never wanted to meet his mate but fate wasn't easy on him. From a very young age, he was taught to hate the mate, if not reject the mate, and if not kill the mate. "I, Eva Silver rejecting Alpha Jake Smith as my mate", Eva said with tear-filled eyes, and after finishing her words a surge of pain emerged into her body. "I.. I, Alpha Jake...", a loud roar erupted from him and he shifted into his shiny brown wolf. What made Eva reject her mate? Why was North Mountain pack against mate bond? What were Eva and Jake destined for?
104.2K viewsOngoingAdded to Library 124 Times as neil gaiman writing routine
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The Don's Punishment

The Don's Punishment

As my due date approached, a massive discrepancy surfaced in the Galante family's arms accounts. The leadership made a swift decision. They sent me, Sophia Vitale, the Don's wife, the woman everyone claimed had nothing better to do, to personally inspect the armory and verify the inventory. I believed it was a routine check. I never imagined my husband's godsister, Monica Leone, would use it as cover to blow up the entire armory. The explosion was deafening. Fire ripped through the sky. Concrete collapsed around me, crushing my body as a searing pain tore through my abdomen. I did not call my husband on his highest-priority private line. Instead, I sent a distress signal to my father. In my previous life, the moment the explosion occurred, I had used that same priority channel to call my husband. The child had survived. Monica had been obliterated in the blast. My husband had claimed he did not blame me. He had said Monica was an outsider and that an heir mattered more. He had spared no expense, hiring elite obstetric specialists to monitor me day and night. He had told me to stay calm and wait for delivery. Then, on the day I went into labor, he personally locked me and the baby inside an abandoned warehouse drenched in gasoline and burned us alive. "If you hadn't deliberately delayed, she wouldn't have died. Do you really think playing the innocent victim could fool me? Dream on," he said. "You like playing with fire so much? Fine. I'll let you experience her despair yourself." When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the armory, at the exact moment of the explosion.
5.6K viewsCompletedAdded to Library 205 Times as neil gaiman writing routine
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Cold And Inhuman

Cold And Inhuman

BFJ
"You whore!" A masculine voice. "You philanderer!" A feminine voice. "I'll kill you in this house!" He bellowed as he charged straight to the woman and started beating her up. The little boy stood at the door and watched his parents go about their daily routine, tears spilled from his eyes. He stood in the shadows, just watching and crying. If he speaks out loud, they'll remember him and his father will beat him also. No one remembers him. Not unless they want to beat him too. Then he saw the blow, heard the awful sound. The blow that made a difference. The blow that made that day stand out from every other day. His mom stopped screaming, she laid there on the floor, staring into nothingness. Dead. "Gia." His dad paused mid-beating. No answer. "Gianna!" He patted her white arms turned red from being beaten. Terror filled the little boy's system, a sound escaped his mouth, drawing the man's attention. "Oops. I've forgotten about you." He said to the little boy. "Mom's dead..." The little boy said in a tiny voice. The man looked down at the lifeless white woman, "Seems like it." He looked at the boy with an eye filled with menace. "You'll pretend you didn't see a thing. You'll......" The siren rang outside. The police had arrived. A neighbour had alerted them when he heard the noise. He watched as the policemen pointed their guns at his father. He watched as they took his father away. He remained hidden, his blue eyes returning to the woman who laid on the floor, with eyes as blue as his. She was staring right at him. Finally, she sees him. Only in death, did she really see him. Something died in that little boy that day. Replaced with bitterness.
103.0K viewsCompletedAdded to Library 107 Times as neil gaiman writing routine
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Single Cruise

Single Cruise

Let me introduce myself. I'm Ginger Snapper, I’m twenty-five years of age. I work for Eclipse Magazine. I have been with the magazine for five years, as well as with my blog. I have been writing for as long as I can remember. I’m adopted, and I have always known since I was five. For me, it was fine because I didn’t remember my parents, just that my mom was now my real mom’s best friend. I grew up in a loving home and was given what I needed in life to succeed. She gave me a chance to do what I love. She gave me a family and support to chase after my dreams. So I am grateful for all of that. So, I also volunteer as a mentor to young children in my free time to help give back. I stood up and went to the door to see who was there. When I got to the door, there was a note taped to my door. I looked in the hall to see if anyone was around, but there was no one. So I grabbed the note and went back inside my apartment. It was just a small note folded over a couple of times with nothing written on the outside of it. I unfolded the note and read the note, and I was shocked at what I read. “There is so much about yourself you don’t know. You need to start looking into where you come from. You're in danger and don’t know why you're in danger. You'd better start learning who you truly are before it's too late. I know my mother was killed in a freak accident, and I never knew who my father was.
1.1K viewsOngoingAdded to Library 41 Times as neil gaiman writing routine
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