Perfect Hopkins Novel

On Father's Day, I received a heartwarming gift. My one-year-old son called me Dad for the first time. But moments later, he convulsed, foamed at the mouth, and died before we could reach the hospital. My wife was shattered, and I was devastated. The doctors couldn't identify the cause of his death. Three years later, my wife emerged from her grief, and we welcomed our second child. But the moment this child called me Dad, they, too, died instantly. To spare her further pain, I suggested adoption. Yet, even our adopted children met the same fate. Unable to bear the losses, my wife divorced me. Everyone said I was cursed, never meant to be a father. Defiant, I remarried and had another child, vowing never to let them call me Dad. For years, we adhered to this rule. But when our daughter turned four, she came home from preschool, eager to celebrate Father's Day. Holding a card, she read aloud, "Dad."

My six-year-old son, Zac Quest, deliberately fed me almond cake, which I was allergic to, to make me miscarry. Standing in front of the hospital bed, he hid behind my husband, Sterling Quest, with a long face and refused to admit his mistakes, "Grandma said you won't ever divorce Dad once you give birth to my sister. I don't want you as my mom anymore. I prefer Ms. White!" Sterling said indifferently, "We'll have other children. Winona... is indeed more fit to raise Zac than you." Hearing those words, I gave up completely. The day I was discharged from the hospital, I went back home and cleared out all my belongings. All I left behind was a divorce agreement and a letter disowning Zac.

The moment my best friend, Patrick York, rushed ahead of me into the convenience store and asked for a lottery ticket with that specific string of numbers, I knew he was in the same boat as me. We were reborn. In the past life, Patrick and I were shortlisted for an interview at a Fortune 500 company, but there was only one opening. The day before the interview, I had a sudden urge to buy a lottery ticket. However, because of that, I missed the interview and Patrick got hired. Surprisingly, I got the winning ticket and won 50 million dollars. After my graduation, I enjoyed an easy life by living off interest from the bank. Meanwhile, despite getting hired, Patrick was paid a low wage and suffered daily abuse from his colleagues. In the end, he took out his frustrations on me by pushing me off the rooftop, killing me on the spot. After my death, my girlfriend, Emily Hayward, committed perjury for his sake. She claimed that after a prolonged period of staying home with nothing to do, I was in a bad mental state and leaped off on my own. The two of them profited off my death and became trending influencers, making it big. When I opened my eyes once more, I realized I was back to the day I purchased the lottery ticket.

When I was waiting for Theodore at City Hall from dawn to dusk, he was accompanying his first love on a hike. I called him dozens of times, but he rejected my calls instantly each time. He finally picked up on the twentieth call. "Why are you blowing up my phone when you simply didn't see me for a day? Why are you acting so desperate? Sammy's feeling unwell because of her heart and I still need to take care of her at the hospital. We'll talk later about registering our marriage." Ten years of love. This was the 100th time Theodore had left me alone in front of City Hall for his first love. I hung up and calmly tossed the wedding ring away. This marriage? I was done with it.

A year after Easton Carter turns down my 99th proposal, he calls me in the middle of the night, crying like his world's falling apart. He says his grandmother is dying and her last wish is to see him married. He tells me he's finally ready. He's already ordered the dress and booked the venue. But when I show up at the venue in my wedding dress, his friends burst out laughing. "You actually believed that? And you even swapped the cheap dress he ordered for a custom-made one? You're the queen of pathetic!" Then one of them yells, "Look, the groom's side piece showed up to crash the wedding!" "Security, come get this homewrecker!" Guests turn to stare like they're watching a joke unfold. Easton doesn't even look at me. He turns to the woman he loves and says, "I told you I'd ruin this wedding for you. I meant it. If you can't have him, no one will!" She gives him a satisfactory smile. Then, he finally glances at me. "Tina said you did her a favor today. When we get married, you can be the bridesmaid, and you can still spend time with us after that." So, he brought me here just to help his sweetheart ruin her crush's wedding. But when Easton finally looks up at the wedding banner and realizes that I'm the bride, his eyes flare with rage.

My husband's beloved lover suffered from menstruation complications. A traveling doctor claimed that a fresh placenta was needed to cure her. His gaze fixated on my seven-months-pregnant baby bump. And thus, I was pinned down on the bed as they ripped the placenta from my body. My son was carelessly tossed aside. He didn't even get the chance to cry before his tiny body fell silent forever. My husband pinched his nose in disgust, frowning as he looked at me—bleeding out, feebly reaching for my child. “It’s just a premature baby. He'll be fine after a few days of care. Why are you making such a fuss? Sandra is waiting for her medicine." He left and locked the door behind him without looking back. He claimed it was a lesson I needed to learn. By the time he finally remembered us, my son and I had long since bled dry, our bodies cold and stiff.

After receiving the report for an STD test, I went back to the barbeque restaurant, and there I ran into a young woman who was about three months pregnant. She asked me to let her cut in line, and, feeling sorry for her, I agreed to help her out. I quickly made arrangements for her and made sure she had a seat. But to my shock, after she finished her meal, she had a miscarriage. The girl posted about the incident online, and before I knew it, I was trending on social media, facing a wave of cyberbullying. The internet users went even further, digging up my health records and finding that everything came back positive. [She's positive for everything—she's clearly a woman with a messy private life!] [No wonder she caused the woman's miscarriage just by being near her—she's a biological hazard!] The cyberbullying got so bad that it pushed me into depression. Even my fiancé turned against me, accusing me of being filthy and breaking up with me. The emotional weight became too much, and in my pain, I drove straight into a reservoir. Meanwhile, the girl gained millions of followers online and skyrocketed to fame as a popular influencer. It was only after I died that I learned the shocking truth—this girl was my fiancé's first love. To boost her own popularity, she and my fiancé had come up with this entire scheme together. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day when she asked me to let her cut in line.

She thought she was just a wolf. She was wrong. Raven Blackwood, the wild-hearted biker princess of the Iron Fang, is used to ruling the road with steel and fire. But the night Axel Voss; ruthless Alpha of the rival gang claims her as his Luna, her world rips open. Raven isn’t only a wolf. She’s something more. Something dangerous. Something hunted. As her powers awaken, so do her guardians; mystical protectors bound to her bloodline: A dragon trapped in mortal flesh, A siren with a voice that can command the living and the damned and others yet to rise. Each one is drawn to her… body, heart, and soul. Each one destined to fight for her and perhaps claim her. Now Raven stands at the center of a storm: Rival packs warring for dominance, betrayals simmering in the dark, hunters and rogues armed with god-forged weapons and a love so savage it threatens to burn her alive. In a world of chrome and claws, where loyalty cuts deeper than steel and desire is as dangerous as war, Raven must decide Will she surrender to one mate? Or rise as the Luna who commands them all?

The first thing I do after coming back to life is swap out every single pair of my husband, Augustin Reed's boxers for those in black. In my past life, my sister-in-law, Sephine Fidel, cheats right under our roof on my brother, Jonah Merrick. And when I catch her and tell Jonah the truth, she turns it all on me. Then, two pairs of men's black boxers, not Augustin's, appear in my bedroom. I try to explain, but Augustin slaps me across the face and calls me a whore, while Jonah looks at me like I'm filth. "I know you hate Sephine. You've never shown her any warmth since she married me, but I didn't think you'd sink this low to cheat in your own house and frame her for it…" He disowns me while Augustin files for divorce. I remember stumbling onto the streets in a daze, only to get run over dead by a speeding truck. When my eyes snap open, I wake up to the day Sephine brings her lover into our home.

My boy friend Caleb Ford's childhood sweetheart, Julia Leclair, is losing her hair from chemotherapy. So, he orders me to cut mine off and make her a wig. "Julia's allergic to synthetic wigs. You've been growing your hair for ten years—it's perfect." I refuse, but his friends tie me down. Someone shaves my head to the scalp, buzzing through my thick, glossy hair until nothing's left but a butchered mess. Julia sits in her wheelchair and laughs, saying I look like a toad. Caleb smiles and nods in agreement. He adds with a chuckle, "It's just some hair. Was that really necessary?" But back when I was bullied for having uneven, choppy short hair for six straight years, it was he who stood in front of me. He had his arms spread wide as he shielded me from harm. Now he's the one wielding the blade. One by one, their little circle chimes in. They tell me not to hold a grudge against someone who's sick. Caleb snaps impatiently, "Stop trying to talk sense into her. She can get lost! Did you see that fit she threw over a few strands of hair? It's not like they won't grow back." I turn around and walk away. I never look back. Later, I hear that Caleb begs for my forgiveness by kneeling his way up 9000 steps until his knees are ruined.