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In my last life, my mother, Lydia Hudson, gave me a pair of earrings worth millions at my coming-of-age ceremony. The moment I wear them, I go from being a rising beauty in the entertainment industry to looking like an old woman in her 80s. Mom stays completely calm. She locks me in the basement and cuts off all contact with the outside world. It isn't until my brother's girlfriend, Stephanie Meyer, kindly rescues me that I finally see the outside world again. But before I can even thank her, I'm stabbed to death by a mob of obsessed fans. "When I visited the first time, your mom only gave me a one-million-dollar gift. It's only your birthday, yet you get earrings worth tens of millions? The Quinton family fortune is mine. If you dare to fight me for it, this is what'll happen to you," she told me. It's only after my death that I learn that she was furious about Lydia giving me the earrings. She spread rumors online that I was a gold-digging opportunist and incited her followers to kill me. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day of my coming-of-age ceremony. Without hesitation, I hand the earrings to Stephanie. If she wants the Soul-Sworn Earrings, I will give them to her.

The day I announced I was quitting writing, the entire internet celebrated. Everyone except my girlfriend's rumored boyfriend, the famous mystery author, Bryan Vega. In a short video, he looked genuinely regretful. "This is all a misunderstanding. I’ve always admired Kobi’s work, and I hope he’ll come back for the sake of his readers." I turned off my phone and ignored him completely. In my previous life, the web novel I wrote was identical to the mystery novel he published. People online called me a plagiarist and wished death on my whole family. I tried to defend myself, posting my drafts, outlines, and timestamps. Yet, it didn't matter. The last edit timestamp on his document was ten minutes earlier than mine. Just those ten minutes destroyed me. The messages never stopped. Strangers flooded my inbox with insults. Some even showed up at my house and threw paint on the walls. Years of nonstop harassment dragged me into depression. My parents tried to clear my name, but obsessed fans hunted them down and murdered them using methods copied straight from his novel. In the end, on the very day his book won a major award, I sealed my windows and burned charcoal, ending my life. And then, I opened my eyes again. I had returned to the day my new book was supposed to be released.

Yvette Warren, personal secretary to billionaire Orson Cox, announced that the heiress who was accidentally switched at birth 20 years ago was living in this orphanage. Whoever could prove their identity would inherit a billion-dollar fortune. In my first life, the two-faced Laurel Marsh tricked me into giving her my keepsake to claim the family. The Coxes tore her mouth apart. "Fraud!" In my second life, my frenemy, Rebecca Vargas, tattooed a fake birthmark on herself to claim the family. The Coxes had her skin slashed to shreds. "Still a fraud!" In my third life, my sworn enemy, Vita Davidson, took out online loans to get plastic surgery, reshaping her face to resemble Orson's wife. She tried to claim the family and was thrown straight into a mastiff cage by the Coxes. By my fourth life, no one dared steal my identity anymore. They packed me up overnight and delivered me straight to the Cox residence. When the DNA test confirmed I really was the heiress, everyone thought the nightmare was finally over. But on my very first night back, the Coxes shoved me off a high-rise building. "Anyone who dares steal our real daughter's identity deserves to die!" When I opened my eyes again, Yvette was smiling as she asked who the heiress was. Everyone backed away in terror, insisting they weren't the heiress. Yvette's voice turned low and eerie. "But our investigation shows that the heiress is definitely in this orphanage."

My best friend asked me to conduct a blood test on her before she got married to the richest man in the city. That was how I found out that she had AIDS. Due to patient confidentiality and her claim that her fiance would not mind, I did not tell him about her diagnosis. Later on, he contracted AIDS as well. When this happened, my best friend went online and pointed the finger at me. “Maya Sullivan intentionally kept the results of my blood test a secret. That’s why my husband got AIDS. It’s all her fault!” Even my boyfriend added fuel to the fire. “This isn’t the first time Maya has set Pearl up. She only got AIDS because Maya used an infected needle to take her blood sample!” No matter how much I insisted otherwise, everyone kept hounding me about it. To avoid the fallout, I was forced to move myself and my parents to another city to start fresh. However, in a fit of rage, Pearl’s husband crashed into our car and killed all of us. He was later sentenced to death, so Pearl inherited all of his assets. She then lived in luxury with my boyfriend. When I opened my eyes again, I discovered that I had gone back in time. It was the day that Pearl had undergone her health checkup.

After being reborn, the first thing I did was switch my newborn daughter. In my previous life, soon after she was born, a blood test showed her type was AB. But mine was B, and my husband's was O—there was absolutely no way we could have an AB-type child. My husband flew into a rage and demanded a paternity test on the spot. To everyone's shock, the results proved she was biologically related to me, but not to him. He slapped me hard across the face, his voice trembling with disappointment. "I've always treated you well. I only ever loved you—and this is how you repay me?" My mother-in-law wailed and cursed me for cheating, accusing me of bearing another man's child to steal their family fortune. I was completely stunned. I knew better than anyone who the father of my child was—how could she possibly not be my husband's? In no time, everyone turned against me. They called me a cheater, a tramp. My husband divorced me and went online to play the victim, stirring up a storm of hate and harassment that never seemed to end. With nowhere to go and no one left to believe me, I took my baby in my arms and jumped from a building. Even in death, I couldn't make sense of it all. And when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my daughter was born.

After ten years studying interior design overseas, I came back to my hometown to do work that mattered to the people who raised me. I offered the full package, from site survey to soft furnishings. The materials were chosen by hand. The price was fair to the bone. The town had just gone through a redevelopment. Everyone was getting new units. With the new family policy, every family wanted a third bedroom too. My business was good. Customers from the next county were driving in. Then a girl just back from a city college kicked open my studio with her phone on a livestream and her neighbors at her shoulder. "This is the dishonest one. Look at her. She has been ripping the village off." "In the city, an eighty-square-meter unit can be done for twenty thousand dollars. She is charging eighty." "That's a sixty-thousand-dollar margin. Sixty thousand. Right out of our pockets." The village fell in line behind her. They demanded the difference back. When I refused, they smashed my studio. They beat me into a coma. The pile-on online killed me. When I opened my eyes again, I knew exactly what I was going to do. I would refund every single one of them. And then I would tear out every single thing I had installed. Let's see what twenty thousand dollars actually buys you.

"Rolling my eyes, I turn to see an extremely handsome man with short, styled, black hair staring back at me. His eyes are so dark brown that it appears that they are black. Even though I usually don't like men with a beard and mustache, he looks so hot with it, that I would melt in his hands if he touched me. This man oozes sex from every pore of his body. So much so, that when he accidently brushes my cheek with his hand, goosebumps instantly form on my arms. When I continue to stare at him, I notice that he glances down at my dress and just stares. Realizing why, I try to fold my arms across my chest, but he is standing so close, I can’t move without touching him." Dani as her family calls her lovingly, has always been the quiet mousy type.  She lives her life through books, while everyone else lives their lives to the fullest.  Always watching the world around her, she never quite is able to command the attention of anyone except for her friends and family.  When she finds out that she has to get a job to survive, she goes to the city and ends up working under Mr. knight.  Getting more than she bargains for, in the end is she naughty or nice?

Three months since my husband, Julian Moretti, disappeared. I walked into his favorite den, the grief so deep it stole the air from my lungs. I just wanted to breathe him in, to find any trace of him that was left. Then I heard it. A familiar laugh. And the soft moan of a woman. Through a crack in the door, I saw him. My husband, the man "missing" for three months, had his hand tangled in another woman's hair. "Baby, just a little longer," he said. "Soon as I siphon enough cash from the family's books, we're gone. You and me." In his arms was Bianca, from the Rosso family. "What about your wife?" she purred. "Let her play the grieving widow. She's nothing without me anyway." My fists clenched. The world went quiet, my blood turning to ice. The next day, I put the word out to the entire Family. "I'm holding a memorial mass for my husband." At the service, he stormed in, a ghost returned from the grave, roaring that he was alive and there to take back what was his. But I was standing next to his uncle, Dante Moretti, and all I did was stare him down. "Then explain," I said, my voice cutting through the silence. "Explain the woman. Explain the money. Explain your betrayal... to the Family. And to me."

"I used to be the well-respected Lady Kara. Everyone feared me! No one beneath me dared to so much as look me in the eye or remain sitting whenever I walked into a room, but now, I've lost everything! My life, my status, my man, all gone! I've become a nobody all because of that bitch who suddenly came and stole everything from me. I hate her so much!!!" It seems the battle she fought so hard for had been lost by Omega Kara, and she is now left to rot and suffer in a cruel world full of people just like her former self. But does the goddess give second chances? Is it possible for the darkest and evilest of hearts to turn a new leaf and become pure and white as snow? With all of her past behaviours, Kara was deemed the devil herself; now it's time for her to pay for her crimes and receive her dose of the same pain and suffering she caused others. But what will happen when the moon goddess decides not just to give her another chance to mend her ways but also an unexpected mate? The man whom she hated the most. Another adventure awaits in The Beta's Unexpected Mate (Book 2 of the werewolf mate series). Book 1- The Alpha's Hated Slave Mate Book 2- The Beta's Unexpected Mate For updates on character reveals and character quotes, as well as all of my books, follow my Facebook page, Eyitee's library.

I took a drugged drink for Moretti, the Don I had loved for seven years. He helped Bella, my frightened sister, to her feet first. "Bella is fragile. I'll get her to the car." "Iris, wait here. I'll come back for you soon." My stomach burned like fire, but my fingers were turning cold. I stood there frozen for a long moment before a bitter laugh slipped out. It was the ninety-ninth time he had chosen Bella. In college, I once waited for him in the library with a fever, expecting him to take me home. Then Bella called and said her panic attack was back, so he told me to wait. Years later, I entered the Valtieri family and became his underboss. I balanced his books, negotiated his deals, took bullets for him. He still believed I would always wait. I bit my tongue and forced myself to stay clear-headed while I handled another round of probing from the rival family. At one in the morning, Moretti still had not come back. Bella's post appeared first. In the photo, Moretti was making her a late-night meal. That was when I understood. This time, too, he would not come back for me. And I no longer wanted to wait. I opened my phone and bought a ticket to Sicily three days later. Moretti, goodbye.