Novel Patrick Kellan Black House Novels & Stories

Out of sheer kindness, I brought my drunk, heartbroken coworker home for the night after she'd been dumped. Little did I know, she'd treat my place like it was her own. "Isla, I gave my ex my whole paycheck. I'm just gonna stay here for the rest of the month. You've got this huge place all to yourself anyway—such a waste. It's perfect, we can keep each other company. And hey, no rent. You're already cooking for yourself, so what's one more plate, right?" I stopped typing and blinked, trying to process what she was saying. She kept going, "Don't worry, I'm not gonna take advantage—I'll chip in 2 bucks a day. Honestly, you must get so lonely living alone. Aren't I sweet for offering?" I just stared at her, barely holding back a laugh at her blatant audacity. That evening, I slipped out of the office early, went straight home, and deadbolted the door behind me. No matter how much she knocked and yelled from the hallway, I didn't budge. The next morning, she stormed over to my desk and slammed her hand on my cubicle wall, her tone dripping with accusation. "You were home last night—why didn't you open the door?! I had nowhere to go, had to crash at a hotel, and between that and food, I dropped 60 bucks. You owe me." She shoved her phone screen—payment receipts on full display—right in my face. I couldn't help it—I laughed out loud. If she wanted to play that game, fine. If she thought she could push me around, she was about to learn what real-world consequences looked like.

Falling in love for the first time should be the most amazing feeling in the world. For me, it was the exact opposite. See, the guy I fell in love with turned out to be a cheat. The best part, the real doozy? He cheated on me with my very own twin sister. The entire debacle left me with enough wounds, and knives in my back to last me a lifetime. I was convinced I’d never fall in love again. Ever. Until I ran into my past. Orlando was my first crush. My friend. But he’s not the Orlando I remember. He’s changed. Now he’s the silent, brooding type. The type I should avoid while nursing a broken heart. I know I shouldn’t risk it. I know I should keep my distance. But here’s the thing…I can’t.

For over thirty years, my wife Janet faked being broke—for her flimsy ex. When our son Asher landed in the hospital, I begged and borrowed from everyone I knew. Still came up fifty bucks short. Janet? Said she was tapped out. So my mom sold off her own meds to cover the bill—never told me. She died without treatment. I handled my mom's funeral alone. When I went to pick up Asher from the hospital, I found a stash of Janet's old shopping receipts. Custom suits. Million-dollar watches. A damn private jet. I grabbed them and stormed off to confront her. Asher cut me off. "Dad, Mr. Sackett's sick. Mom's just helping him out. Why are you freaking out?" I stared at the kid who only lived because my mom died. It felt like something cracked inside me. Janet barely looked up. "Connor's educated. He deserves the finer things. Unlike you—crying over fifty bucks like some househusband. See? I didn't give you the money, and Asher's fine." Fine. If that's how they see it, I'm done with this family.

On New Year’s Eve, my fiancee, Delilah Carrington, left me to freeze to death in subzero snow. As my body went numb, she was wrapped in the military coat I had found for her, curled up in Everett Kingsley’s arms while eating the holiday groceries I had paid for. When I opened my eyes again, I was back before everything fell apart. So when she called—cold, demanding, rattling off a shopping list like I owed her—I hung up, blocked her number, and made my move. I sealed off Blackridge Logistics Hub, the largest logistics hub in the country. Stockpiling supplies? Pointless. Because my coworkers and I had more packages than we could ever open: seafood delicacies, premium cigars, top-shelf liquor, and industrial generators. Hundreds of millions of shipments meant for the holidays were now all mine. Inside a warehouse kept at a steady 26°C, I ate wagyu steak and watched the world collapse through surveillance feeds. I witnessed Delilah’s entire family tear each other apart over half a moldy pack of crackers. I thought I could live like this forever. I was wrong. In the apocalypse, the most dangerous thing isn’t what’s waiting outside. It’s the people who refuse to stop playing the hero.

In order to save her brother and his human mate, 18 year old Sally takes the blame for a murder. She is cast out as a Rogue, a werewolf without a pack. Since she is considered a criminal, she ends up being registered on the blacklist. A Rogue on the blacklist can get killed on sight if they ever set foot on any pack territory ever again. When Sally gets captured by the feared Midnight Pack she meets Elijah, a disowned Gamma that turns out to be her mate. With Sally trapped in a cell, facing execution as a blacklisted Rogue, Elijah have to figure out a way for both of them to escape. Will he succeed when his Alpha had taken such an interest in Sally? And will they ever find a place to call home? Warning: this story contains triggering content such as domestic violence, SA and torture!

Eva Miles committed a crime and got away with it because she was the only daughter of a billionaire. Her sins surfaced after six years to disrupt her dream wedding plans. She had wished to give her virginity to a man who waited four years for it. However, she was blackmailed into marriage with her enemy and later paid for her sins with her virginity. She later had her dream wedding. It was more romantic and elaborate than what she had dreamt.

You want a divorce?" Louis’s voice was cold, unreadable. "Yes," I typed on my iPad. "And this time, I won’t beg." For five years, I was nothing more than a ghost in my own marriage. A substitute bride, a deaf and mute wife who meant nothing to him. Louis never looked at me, never touched me. He paraded his mistresses in front of me, making sure I knew my place, nowhere. But I had secrets of my own. I wasn’t deaf. And I wasn’t weak. When I was kidnapped, I expected Louis to come for me. He didn’t. His indifference shattered me, but it also set me free. I made a deal with the devil, a dangerous man who helped me blackmail my own husband. If Louis wouldn’t let me go, I would destroy him. But things spiraled out of control. Now, I’m trapped. Not just between two dangerous men but between my heart and my freedom. Because despite everything… I think I still love him.

PART 2 - OWNED BY THE BULLY - IS OUT NOW! Alice only wanted to help her younger brother when she confronted his bully. She ends up agreeing to do whatever Adam wants in return for him leaving her brother alone. He goes one step further, befriending and protecting her brother, but only for as long as Alice agrees to follow his orders. Orders that become increasingly difficult for her to agree to.

On our wedding night, my CEO wife’s assistant barged into the bridal suite with a crowd behind him. He wrapped an arm around her waist and grinned in front of all the guests. “I've gotta thank Shawn for being so generous. Over the past year, Chloe and I tried all 1,000 positions in the Karma Sutra, won a $10,000,000 bonus, and even ended up with a baby. “Don’t feel too bad, Shawn, even if all you got was one dollar. “And of course, I should thank my future in-laws and everyone here for thinking so highly of me. Tonight, I’ll definitely make sure Chloe has the time of her life on our wedding night.” The room fell silent. No one said a word. Even my father-in-law, who always claimed he treated me like his own son, lowered his head and avoided my eyes. Chloe glanced at me and said casually, “He’s young and insecure. He just wants to spend the wedding night with me. That’s all. “Jason even gave me his first time because he wanted this baby so badly. I have to take responsibility for him.” My heart instantly turned ice-cold. I finally understood why she had given me that envelope with a single dollar in it. I made my decision as I looked at the woman before me, who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. I did not want her anymore.

For ten years, my professor husband, Daniel Whitmore, and I loved each other deeply, treating each other with respect and care. Our only regret was that he had azoospermia, so we were never able to have a child. Then, on our tenth wedding anniversary, the housekeeper, Megan Wright, suddenly claimed she was pregnant with Daniel's child. I thought she was joking. Two days later, she threw a paternity test result in my face. The test proved that the child she was carrying was Daniel's. Megan sued us. On the day of the hearing, she cried in front of the courthouse, telling the media how Daniel had molested her. She said we were a pair of perverts who treated her like a breeding machine and kept her confined in our home. Daniel and I couldn't defend ourselves at all. The netizens labeled us demon employers and nailed us to a pillar of shame. Daniel lost his job at the university, and his students were ashamed of him. I was fired from my company that same day. In the end, Daniel couldn't withstand the pressure of public opinion and committed suicide in prison. I became a rat on the streets, hunted down and beaten by netizens. Driven insane, I wandered into traffic and died miserably in the middle of the road. Even at death, I couldn't understand how Megan had become pregnant with the child of my husband, who had azoospermia. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn to the day before Megan claimed she was pregnant with Daniel's child.