Novel Good App

“Strip!”Marcelo growled like some hungry lion deprived of food for days. “Don’t make me say this twice,” I scoffed, "I'd rather join my father in his grave than let you see my skin." A chuckle then rolled his lips as he stared down at me like I was his subject, "Fiesty, huh? By the time I'm done with you, you'll have no choice but to bow to me!" Don Marcello killed my father in cold blood and I must avenge his death. But how can I do that when I'm trapped in the monster's mansion? But I won’t give up! I was supposed to be the heiress to the family territory before Don Marcello claimed it. Every attempt to end his life only fueled my obsession with him, he likes his girls feisty and fighting. I'm the only girl who has been able to stand up to him even though it always earned me punishments. But one dangerous secret changes everything. After learning this secret, I kept asking: Was I still willing to burn in his hell… or would I make the devil fall to his knees?

Chloe Scarlet Orianna is a happy go lucky woman, in the age of 24 she is already trying to explore and discover the world's beauty. She believes that she should enjoy her teenage life because life is only happened once. Unexpected happened her dad force her to approve the marriage contract who her boy best friend sent and because of that matter she decided to go in her auntie who lived in Mexico together with her two best friends just to invade the marriage she doesn't want to. For her it's a matter of 'now or never'. However, unexpectedly the plane they were on crashed but somehow they managed to get past that breathtaking event of their lives and ended up on an island that is not even written on the map. Little did they know that the island they were treading on was the territory of werewolves. Yes werewolves! Funny right? A mythological creatures that everyone believe it's only exist in people's imagination. What if this stubborn and badass girl experience a hard life in the island where she never been experienced? What if she will meet someone, a werewolf that she will despise till the death of her life, she will discover that this someone will slowly making her life change? Trapped by the Howling Wolf

Trapped in an arranged marriage, Amelia gets nothing but insecurity, abuse and constant scenes of violence. She was forced to marry Lorenzo, a dangerous mafia by her father in exchange for one week surveillance during his electioneering campaign. When Neil, the alpha of Castros pack and CEO of Berg oil summoned Amelia for an interview at his company, he found out Amelia is his second-chance mate. Will Neil go ahead to claim Amelia given she's already legally married? Not only that, to the mafia boss of Chicago? Or will he lose this second chance of claiming his mate? Will the mafia boss, Lorenzo sit back and watch his wife being taken by another man?

What do you do when the mate you love gets another she-wolf pregnant after a drunken night? This is my new reality. In the face of this, he firmly said, "Keep the pup, and we can still go back to how things were." I could not believe my ears. Shaking my head, I asked him to choose. "Between me and the pup, who do you choose?" I said to him. All I got was silence. His blank face broke me. I could not believe he couldn’t answer. But his silence was enough of an answer for me. So I left, and he regretted it.

By the third year of my marriage to Daniel Hawthorne, the war had already taken more than it ever returned, and this time it took his younger brother, Thomas Hawthorne. My sister-in-law, Eleanor, collapsed, and in the weeks that followed she tried to follow her husband into death— once with sleeping pills, once by the river beyond the officers’ quarters— only to be dragged back both times, each time clinging to me afterward as though I were the last thing keeping her grounded. I stayed with her, wiped her tears, and whispered that Thomas would want her to live, until the day she received the test results confirming she was three months pregnant, and the grief of losing her husband was slowly softened by the arrival of new life. I smiled too, believing grief had finally loosened its grip. That night, holding my own pregnancy test in my hand and thinking it was finally time to tell Daniel, I passed the study and heard his friend say quietly, “She’s carrying your child. You convinced the doctors to adjust the timeline so everyone would believe the baby belonged to your brother. Aren’t you afraid Margaret will find out?” Daniel didn’t hesitate. “She won’t,” he said calmly. “She loves me. She wouldn’t leave. I won’t let her know.” I didn’t step inside. I didn’t confront him. Instead, I opened the letter I had received weeks earlier— an official deployment order from the international medical corps, assigning me to a frontline war zone— and tapped Accept.

After my mother shot down my pleas to cover my medical bills the 100th time, I clutched my bone cancer diagnosis papers and trudged to the crematorium. "Hi, I'd like to reserve a cremation slot ahead of time," I muttered to the clerk. Half an hour ticked by before my parents and adopted brother arrived in their car. My dad, a forensic pathologist, cracked me across the face. "You're pulling a fake-death stunt now, just to steal the spotlight from your brother?" My mom, a hospital director, snatched the papers from my hands and shredded them into confetti. "Faking records using my credentials and tying up hospital resources? You've crossed the line!" My brother cried, tugging at their sleeves. "It's all my fault. I'll skip the amusement park forever. I don't need a thing. Just quit riling up Mom and Dad." I spun around, my hand pressed against my throbbing chest, and begged the crematorium staff. "Please, when it's time, cremate me and scatter the ashes in the river. I've got no family left in this world."

On our wedding day, Carter Hall's father took his own life in our new home. He left a suicide note, blaming me for his death. From that day forward, Carter despised me to the core. He said, "Lindsey Thomson, you deserve to rot in hell, atoning for your sins for the rest of your life." Eventually, just as he wished, I wandered the streets, mute and half-insane, living a life worse than a stray dog. But then, he regretted it.

My husband, an anesthesiologist, deliberately increases the sedative dosage on an accident victim so he can get a new heart for his first love, Selena Quigley. After her operation, he cares for her and celebrates her rebirth. He only remembers to contact me after she's recovered. "It's been three months since we saw each other, honey. You shouldn't be mad anymore, right? Why don't you book a flight for tomorrow so you can come home? I'll pick you up at the airport." I won't be going home anymore, though. Not now, not forever. I've already died on his operating table.

Five years and a divorce paper in my hand before I realized that I invested my time, effort and devotion to the wrong man. Trapped in a corner with nothing left to my name, I was willing to bargain with my ex-husband for my daughter’s sake. But then, a savior, my husband’s new boss came to rescue me from the financial quagmire I was in. He helped me recover what I lost: my dignity, pride and most importantly, he gave me hope. I thought he was the perfect man. But the illusion shattered when his motives came to bite me in the face. He was in this for revenge, and his target was me.

Having an Awakenist as my wife meant enduring her monkish attitude toward sex. We could only be intimate on the sixteenth of every month. Every detail—my position, rhythm, even my expression—had to follow her rigid rules. If I showed too much pleasure, she would immediately rise and leave. We had been married for five years. Was I ever tired of this? Yes. Still, I always gave in. I accepted these limitations because I loved her. "The Saintess loves me too," I told myself. That faith shattered the day I was sent to extinguish a hotel fire. Amid the flames, I found my wife pressed close to a man in disheveled clothes. Between their arms was a young boy.