One Second After Movie Novels & Stories

The day my husband, Eric Johnson, brought his foster sister home from overseas, he gave her our master bedroom. "Yvonne just lost her husband. She's heartbroken, so I want her to feel comfortable," he said. I nodded obediently. "Okay." The next day was my birthday. Yvonne said she was feeling down and wanted her brother, Eric, to go stargazing with her. Eric turned to me and said, "She really needs me right now. I'll celebrate your birthday with you later." Still, I smiled and nodded. "Okay." Ten years of marriage and I was ready to walk away from it all… Because I have lived this life once already. In my previous life, I made the mistake of asking Eric to stay with me on my birthday. I did not let him go stargazing with Yvonne. She ended up falling into the water in her sorrow and was rushed to the hospital. After that, Eric shoved my head into a bathtub and held me there until I drowned. In this second life, when Eric handed me the divorce papers and said, "I’m only marrying Yvonne to help her revoke her foreign citizenship and restore her citizenship here. Once it's done, we'll remarry." I did not hesitate. I signed my name without a second thought. By the time he came looking for me again, I was already sitting on his archenemy's lap, smiling like a flower in full bloom.

The last thing Valentina Serra sees before she dies is the crack in the ceiling above her bed. She is 45 years old. She is not unhappy. That, she realizes in the last seconds of her first life, is the most devastating thing she could say about it. She opens her eyes in a university lecture hall in Barcelona. She is 20 years old. Her notebook is open, her pen is in her hand, and she can feel — with the precision of someone who has lived an entire life — exactly how much she is about to waste if she does nothing. She does something. Armed with 25 years of memory, Valentina sets out to close every loop she left open: the military commission she dismissed, the marketing career she let others architect for her, the relationship she stayed in long past its expiry date, and the mother she visited but never truly knew. One by one, she reaches for the life she talked herself out of the first time around. But the two people closest to her — the friends who have always been there, always supportive, always first to suggest the safer, smaller option — are watching. And when Valentina begins exceeding the quiet ceiling that they built for her, Isabel and David begin to coordinate. Then there is Ethan Cole. Washington D.C. Investment sector. Five years younger, which bothered her the first time. He will walk into her life again in Barcelona, and this time Valentina already knows what the long dinner and the careful conversation and the late-night walk along the Passeig de Gràcia will mean — if she doesn't talk herself out of it. She is not going to talk herself out of it.

Tessa takes a chance with her career path and learns the joys and horrors of our adoption system. She learns her heart has to be open and ready for love or heartbreak, she must take chances. Along the way her triumphs are tested, her beliefs are destroyed and her desires grow strong.

My husband, Malcolm Thorpe, has low sperm motility. After 33 rounds of IVF, I finally got pregnant. On delivery day, I start hemorrhaging, and the medical team calls for an emergency C-section. Malcolm signs the consent form, then rushes straight back to his childhood sweetheart's birthday party. But instead of starting the C-section, the surgeon says, "Ms. Jacobson, the electronic medical record lists you as single. This consent form isn't valid." I stop breathing for a beat. The happy marriage I believe in turns out to be a sham. Later, Mom and Dad rush in and sign the consent for me. But by then, the baby is gone. The asphyxia lasted too long. After surgery, I scrawl my name on the cremation consent with shaking hands, then dial a number without thinking. "Samuel, are you free now? Meet me in front of City Hall."

By day, Maeve Briggs is just a regular, quiet high school senior. She tries to blend in, takes care of her younger brother, and deals with her mom cleaning the huge, fancy Dovewood mansion—a mansion owned by the very rich and very dangerous Caden Dovewood. But at night, Maeve becomes someone totally different: Eve. She puts on a black wig and high heels, dancing for strangers in a secret club. No one there knows who she really is. It's her secret way to escape her tough life and earn money to pay the bills. Then, Caden Dovewood walks into the club. He sees her, recognizes her, but Maeve remains unaware he's witnessed her secret life. It's only later, likely at his mansion, that Caden reveals his knowledge. He's loaded with money, he's dangerous, and he's the last person Maeve ever wanted to know her secret. Now that he does, he won't let it go. He's always a step ahead, pulling her closer with words that make her heart race and eyes that seem to see right through her. He doesn't just want to know her secrets; he wants her. And he doesn't feel one bit guilty about going after her, making their whole situation a dangerous and twisted game.

Cress height, A town where nightmares lurk in the dark waiting to consume their prey. Maeve Spelman a young witch who abandoned her past in cress heights after the horrible deaths of her family, to start a new life as an actress in LA. Fate has other plans for her as she finds herself back in cress heights. What happens when she finds out she is not only a vampire but also the soul mate of Xavier; The dark emperor of everything unholy who was raised from hell?

When Kaira walked in on her boyfriend of two years, tangled in her sister’s sheets on Christmas Eve, something inside her shattered beyond repair. Stumbling into a bar, heart numb and vision blurred, she wanted only to forget. So when a devastatingly handsome stranger approached, she offered herself to him, no questions asked. Until consequences found her. A missed period, and a pregnancy she wasn't expecting. Panicked and ashamed, Kaira vanished, unaware that the man she ran from was no ordinary stranger. He was an Alpha. And he would burn the world to ashes to find the woman carrying his heir, no matter how long it took.

I was dismembered and thrown into an abandoned warehouse. Before my consciousness faded away, I used the last bit of my strength to send a message via mind link to Timothy Russell, the Alpha heir that I had loved for six years. "Timothy, I'm in so much pain..." The next second, a cold mental barrier crashed down between us, cutting off all communication. That was his response to me. I knew I had been too presumptuous. I had disturbed him while he was at an auction helping his foster sister, Rochell Lucas. The moment my heart stopped beating, Timothy, who was helping Rochell put on a bracelet, felt his chest cave in. While everyone watched, the future Alpha knelt on the ground as countless bone-deep wounds appeared across his body out of nowhere. He convulsed in agony, screaming my name. Only then did everyone notice a glowing blood pact mark appearing on his tongue. I remembered. Once upon a time, he swore an oath to the moon. "If I ever betray Leah, every bit of suffering she has endured will return to me tenfold."

The love that I knew wasn't like the ones written in a book. It wasn't beautiful and magical. It doesn't bring butterflies in my stomach and it doesn't make me feel special. It doesn't feel like home, I do not feel secure. It does not make me feel safe and worthy. The love that I experience doesn't feel like love. I'm not really sure if it is love because it made me doubt, insecure and made me feel unloved. And all I experienced was pain. No it was torture. To see him love someone else when all I could do is to love him and let him love her. Now I don't know if I could ever love someone else, after him.

Dakota Stelter and I tumbled down that steep ravine together. I lay there bleeding and broken, only to watch my boyfriend scoop her into his arms and walk away without a backward glance. He left me. In that moment, in every way that mattered. While everyone fussed over Dakota's scratches, no one even checked if I was still breathing. When I was finally rescued and recovering at the hospital, my boyfriend didn't even visit. I was hurt. So I moved on. Piece by piece, I rebuilt myself without him. But then he became distraught. Suddenly, he was sobbing, telling me he had always loved me.