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Before our marking ceremony, my fiancé, Adrian Conner, insists on bringing his childhood sweetheart along on our trip—all because Flora Wooledge says she also wants to see the northern lights. He switches my first-class ticket to Flora's name. He says, "I'll fly first class with Flora. You can take connecting flights by land. The doctor said it's not good for a pregnant woman to stay at high altitude for too long." I don't cry or argue. Instead, I calmly push him toward Flora. He snorts. "You've finally learned to behave. You're not as clingy and troublesome as before." After he leaves, I quietly sign the abortion consent form at the hospital. Then, I book a ticket to the southern hemisphere. In my past life, I begged and clung to him, hoping to keep him with our pup. But on that trip, Flora was attacked by rogue wolves and torn apart in the snow. Adrian kept a calm facade. Yet on the night I was about to give birth, he dragged me back home and cut open my belly with his own hands. He stood there and listened as our pup's cries slowly faded away. He poured all his hatred onto me. He believed I caused Flora's death and that I ruined his chance to become the Conner family's heir. To him, I was nothing more than a sacrificial pawn. In this new life, when I step off the private jet, I see Adrian standing there with his eyes bloodshot. He stares at my belly and asks, "Where's the pup?" Before I can answer, his half-brother wraps an arm around my waist. "Adrian, show some respect to your sister-in-law."

They grew up in a cult community that as a culture killed Russians, Bonnie, Donald and Dr. Markus are Russians. This is because 1000 years ago there was a war and before the war Russians used to oppress the black people so the black people rose up, some good Russians helped the black people rise up and for a time after the black people won the war and got into rule they made laws to stop the oppression and things got calmer and people were arrested for racism. One day, 1000 years later, a black ruler was dying so he gave his crown to his nephew who hated Russians and the nephew turned black people against the Russians and created a whole culture of hating the Russians, this started tensions between the two races and literally got babies killed, mixed people were killed along with their Russian parents, black people who made babies with them would be kicked out of the community that used to be Christians and the nephew's son started a culture of killing Russians 1 time a month on the 13th day of the month. RedBeeSAndAmber2's Real Name is Treasure Marie Denise Jackson and I am her, I collaborated with GOD A.K.A. Jesus Christ To help me write this book. The Writer is an African-American. _________________________________________________________________________ This story is copyrighted. (Copr. ©) The copyright symbol, or copyright sign, ©, is the symbol used in copyright notices for works other than sound recordings. The use of the symbol is described by the Universal Copyright Convention. Copyright refers to the legal right of the owner of intellectual property. ... This means that the original creators of products and anyone they give authorization to are the only ones with the exclusive right to reproduce the work.

When my son was born, I noticed a small, round birthmark on his arm. But the weird thing? By the time I opened my eyes again after giving birth, it was gone. I figured maybe I'd imagined it. That is, until the baby shower. My brother-in-law's son, born the same day as mine, had the exact same birthmark. Clear as day. That's when it hit me. I didn't say a word, though. Not then. I waited. Eighteen years later, at my son's college acceptance party, my brother-in-law stood up and dropped the truth bomb: the "amazing" kid I'd raised was theirs. I just smiled and invited him and his wife to take their "rightful" seats at the table.

"Whose illegitimate child are you pregnant with?" My parents demand to know, looking crazed. They want to know whose child I'm carrying. I look at them and laugh. "One of the kidnappers, of course." My parents and brother are stunned, and they turn ashen. I continue softly, "Don't you guys remember? The kidnappers asked for a ransom, but you guys were only willing to save your other daughter. You wanted to teach me a lesson." Mom collapses on the couch. "That can't be. We wanted to teach you a lesson so you would stop bullying Eden. I didn't… We didn't…" I crouch before her. "You guys never expected the kidnappers to violate me, right?" I don't wait for an answer. "Do you think a few kidnappers would have morals and ethics?" She parts her lips to speak, but I don't give her the chance. "I was covered in injuries when I got home. Why didn't any of you ask me about them? "You guys took Eden away without bothering to save me. You didn't return for a day, for two days, for a month… Did you think the kidnappers would think that they could still receive the ransom?" They should be happy now—I'm about to die.

I was the sole front desk clerk at a haunted hotel. Welcoming players, checking in on the bosses’ quarters, and slacking off a bit were all part of the job. At least, that was what I thought. It turned out my days were far from ordinary. A blood-drenched little girl in a tattered red dress kept ringing the service bell. Her eerie voice echoed, “Miss, why didn’t you come play with me?” A creepy black cat with glowing eyes wouldn’t stop meowing and rubbing against my legs. And then there was the old woman with claws like knives, cheerfully knitting me a sweater… out of players’ skin. One day, I took a day off to care for my sick mother. That was my biggest mistake. The entire game instance erupted in chaos. Bosses interrogated players, demanding to know where their precious front desk clerk had gone. “Did she abandon us? Is she never coming back?” I ran. They chased. But no matter how fast I fled, their grip on me only tightened. In the end, escape wasn’t an option.

My grandmother only knows how to draw one thing—infants. They're ugly, but people line up to buy the paintings. I watch as she takes those women into unlit rooms. Then, their bloodcurdling screams will ring out. Oddly enough, they always thank my grandmother when they're leaving. One day, I finally find out what exactly my grandmother paints. I discover the truth when I see an infant crawl out of one of the women's bellies—it looks just like the one my grandmother has painted.

Lavish London mansions. A hand-painted Rolls-Royce. And eight dead friends. For the British fixer Robbie Chase, working for the Russian's President most vocal critic meant stunning perks – but also constant danger. His gruesome death is one of 14 that retired British Agent QUINTUS NOONE has linked to Russia – but the UK police shut down every last case. QUINTUS NOONE'S investigation reveals the full story of a ring of death on British soil that the government has ignored.

My husband was sterile. Necrospermia, they said. His brother was in a coma and had no partner. Their mother wanted me to sleep with both of them and get knocked up with the family's heir. I refused and applied for a divorce. Ninety-nine times. Ninety-nine failures. Then, I put in the hundredth application. When that failed, I agreed to my mother-in-law's request, holding a pregnancy test result. My husband disagreed. That night, he stopped me before I could sleep with his brother. Harshly, he said, "My mother was just testing you. I can't believe you'd get pregnant with the illegitimate child." I was amused and annoyed. "You're the one who said yes, as long as I could get pregnant with your family's heir."

I need to drive to and from work due to a change in my job scope. However, my father-in-law hoards my car and refuses to return it. My husband stands up for him. "How can you be so materialistic? So what if you have to take an electric scooter to work?" So, I sell the car. My husband points at me and snaps, "What right do you have to sell Dad's car?" I look at him calmly. "I've sold the one you drive too."

It's not what you think. Two social worlds collide with words, feelings, behaviours and ideas most unexpected to bring an even more unpredictable end. Lacey Atkins leaves school for a tear and comes back wanting nothing more than to be left alone. Alone in a classroom, Tom Wade sees Lacey and soon comes to want nothing more than to be with her. Her weird and unusual ways all make him the more curious and drawn in.