Nintey Nine Lives Novels & Stories

A doomsday blizzard hit just before Christmas. The zombie virus exploded. Our fortress was a top-tier ski resort. Now, it was about to fall. My husband, Ethan, was a former Navy SEAL. Our head of security. He swore his defense system was foolproof. The blizzard knocked out the power. But he’d sent all the backup generator fuel to the summit. Just to light up a Christmas tree for Chloe. He even had a few guards up there with them, throwing a party. In my last life, I fought him. I herded everyone into the last bunker. But Chloe whined. A crowded Christmas was boring, she said. She stormed out of the safe room and ran right into the jaws of the horde. Ethan carved a path through the horde to s

"I love you, Nate." My head was bent and I was staring at my feet, nervous like a child who had done something wrong and was waiting to be scolded. The man in my embrace froze. He broke the embrace and took three steps backwards. "We are ending this relationship." I finally heard him say after a few minutes of awkward silence. "Huh,why? I thought I still have a month left?" "Why? you breached the contract, that's why." *********************** Aviva Alexander who has just turned twenty-three crossed paths with the arrogant, dominant CEO of Dove's enterprises, Nathan Lewis. Love at first sight? That's what you may call it in Ava's case. Determined, she chases the hot Nat

Victor’s private jet has barely cleared the runway when Amelia gives in to the one man she’s never allowed to touch: her husband’s son. She has everything money can buy, except the intense, raw passion her body craves. Ethan has the fierce intensity that finally gives it to her. For nineteen stolen days they turn the penthouse into their personal playground: the marble island where she loses herself in his embrace, the glass shower where he holds her dripping wet, the marital bed where they lose all control night after night while Victor is away thirty thousand feet in the air. She was a bored trophy wife. Now she’s obsessed, counting the hours until her husband leaves again, because o

In the third year that I've been diagnosed with late-stage bone cancer, Xenia Jensen, the ex-girlfriend whom I have "abandoned" back then, barges into my rented apartment with the rest of her team that she leads as a police captain. Every day, I have to rely on large amounts of morphine just so I can force myself to stand like a regular human being. I can only twitch violently as I try to grab a pill bottle on the table, my skin completely riddled with needle marks. Xenia chuckles icily as she savors how pathetic I look. "Oh? It's been seven years since we last met, and yet I never thought you'd stoop so low as to become a drug addict. "Where did your gusto to get a better, richer girlfr

I was known throughout the Shadow Pack as the perfect, obedient she-wolf. So obedient, in fact, that when my mate David left me during our eighty-eighth Bonding Ceremony, I still chose to forgive him. Until that fateful day—our eighty-ninth ceremony—when an anonymous werewolf gifted us a wedding present worth five hundred million dollars. The screen meant to play our sweet memories suddenly switched to a live broadcast: Amy, auctioning off her virginity for exactly five hundred million dollars. In our Pack, the first night symbolizes the deepest loyalty and love between true mates. If a she-wolf loses her first night to someone other than her mate, she is shunned by the entire Pack—branded w

A week after my engagement, I was delivered an unusual engagement gift. My phone chimed. I glanced down and saw a push notification from a social app. [Fell in love with a female livestreamer right before my engagement. I feel guilty toward my older girlfriend who's about to become my fiancée—how should I deal with this?] The user ID was "SimonLovesClaire." The profile picture showed a melancholy side view of a man wrapped in a gray scarf. I recognized him instantly. It was my fiancé, Simon Aldrich. That limited-edition scarf was the birthday gift I had given him last year.

Just days after being discharged from the hospital, my husband’s adopted sister, Wendy Crowley, went live. Crying on a rooftop, she accused me of causing her miscarriage. "The ultrasound already showed it was a boy… and that woman took his life! "She can’t have children herself, so she couldn’t stand that I could. I want her to pay for my child’s death!" My husband, Tristan Crowley, believed every word. "Wendy, I failed to protect you. If I’d known she hated you this much, I would’ve locked her away long ago." The livestream sparked outrage. Everyone demanded justice. "This is murder. She’s rotten to the core!" "Where’s the law? Lock her up immediately!" However, when Tristan and W

At nineteen, you're expected to have the perfect blueprint. To navigate university effortlessly and finally act like a real adult. ​Kelsey Vance is ready for it. ​But reality doesn't care about blueprints. When the illusion fades, nineteen becomes less about having the answers, and more about the beautiful chaos of who you become when the expectations vanish.

For five years, I've played the role of Alpha Owen Winslow's secret lover. During the day, I'm his docile and humble younger adopted sister who takes good care of the entire Winslow family. At night, I lie beneath Owen's frame in bouts of passion. I've already grown accustomed to writhing my body to go along with his acts of lust. That is, until I find out that Owen has been livestreaming our lovemaking sessions to his friends this whole time. He even tells them that he'll cast me aside once he tires of me. Since he doesn't cherish my love for him, he can forget about having it ever again. As I clutch my phone tightly, I place a phone call. "Are you a lecturer at the Royal Academy? I'v

Vivian Grant lost her memory and forgot everything about me. Her memory stopped in the year when she loved her ex-husband most. No matter how the people around her tried to explain it, she still believed I was the third party who had come between them. The doctors said her amnesia might be treatable, so I held on to that hope and refused to let go. For three years, we got divorced and remarried over and over again. We became the biggest joke in the city's elite circles. Some people even started betting on us. They bet on when I would finally give up, and when Vivian would finally remember. Then news of our eighth divorce hit the trending charts again. Reporters rushed into the law fi