Possessive Male Lead

22-year-old Anastasia Sanchez is a diehard fan of the e-book, Bonded: a werewolf love story with millions of fans around the world. When the final pages of Bonded cruelly tear the main leads apart, she is livid! She confronts the author and demands her to write the sequel with the two main leads getting back together. Instead of agreeing with her, the author gives her the task that’ll change her life forever: to write the sequel herself! But there’s a catch! Instead of writing the sequel with a laptop and Wi-Fi, Anastasia is magically transported inside the virtual world of Bonded and becomes one of its characters! Her problem doesn’t end there, her desire to give the two main leads a happy ending is cut short when she finds herself falling in love with Bonded’s male lead, Alpha Hugh Montemayor. Caught between loyalty to her beloved characters and the undeniable allure of Hugh’s embrace, will Anastasia sacrifice her own desires for the sake of the story, or will she rewrite the script of her own heart?

He accused her of seduction and was mean towards her after a one night stand. In retaliation, Mercedes threw a $1 note at him as payment for his service and a measure of his performance, which she graded to be below average. Meanwhile, her body ached terribly and her walls felt sore. Two days later, she walked to her new office and was sent to the board room to begin her as a personal assistant to the President. Her heart stopped when she realized that the man she ridiculed was Nathan Legend. The multi-billionaire devil everyone whispered about. Graciously, he pretended to not know her to her great relief. Yet, when she entered his office, he locked the door. His face carried no emotions, his eyes piercing, his voice chilled like ice. "You shall spend the rest of your life, paying for the insult you threw in my face, till I tear that $1 note off the wall." She shivered to his word and as if to read her mind, he seethed, "don't even think about resigning because, I would make sure, that no company employs you and if you run, I will find you."

I'd loved my childhood friend, Colleen Decker, for ten years, until a car accident changed everything. She loses the ability to walk and never stands again. Her fiance, Ronald Coleman, and other self-proclaimed admirers disappear overnight. Even the Decker family turns their backs on her, cutting her off as the heiress. I'm the only one who stays by her side. I drop out of school and spend two years caring for her, doing everything I can to find the best specialists in the country. However, the moment she gets back on her feet—during the proposal I'd prepared—she announces in front of everyone that she's continuing her engagement to Ronald. When I confront her, Colleen grabs my hand, her voice soft and earnest. "Lucius, I'm not doing this because I want to. I'm marrying him to get back at him for walking away from me back then. You have to believe me. I only love you." But during a game of Truth or Dare, Ronald draws the King card. He points at me and says, "Lucius, choose any girl here and kiss her for one minute." I look to Colleen for help, but she turns her head away. "Don't look at me. I belong to Ronald now."

To save my wife, my lungs were pierced by a knife, leaving lasting consequences. When I fell ill and struggled to breathe, she said I was dramatic and went on a business trip with her childhood friend. When she returned, I found a man's underwear in her suitcase that did not belong to me. I calmly made the call: "Director, I've made up my mind. I'm going to assist in Avrika." Later, at the airport, she bent down, publicly lowering her head and begging for my forgiveness.

After my mother shot down my pleas to cover my medical bills the 100th time, I clutched my bone cancer diagnosis papers and trudged to the crematorium. "Hi, I'd like to reserve a cremation slot ahead of time," I muttered to the clerk. Half an hour ticked by before my parents and adopted brother arrived in their car. My dad, a forensic pathologist, cracked me across the face. "You're pulling a fake-death stunt now, just to steal the spotlight from your brother?" My mom, a hospital director, snatched the papers from my hands and shredded them into confetti. "Faking records using my credentials and tying up hospital resources? You've crossed the line!" My brother cried, tugging at their sleeves. "It's all my fault. I'll skip the amusement park forever. I don't need a thing. Just quit riling up Mom and Dad." I spun around, my hand pressed against my throbbing chest, and begged the crematorium staff. "Please, when it's time, cremate me and scatter the ashes in the river. I've got no family left in this world."

The seventh time Claire Fisher bailed on our marriage license appointment, I finally cut her out of my life—for good. From then on, if she was at a party, I wasn't. When she was scheduled to perform at our college's anniversary celebration, I made sure to leave early. The moment my company announced a collaboration with hers, I resigned without a second thought. Even on Christmas Eve, when she showed up at my parents' house with gifts, I slipped out with a half-hearted excuse about "visiting a friend." I blocked her number. Deleted her from my contacts. Burned every bridge and salted the earth behind me. No calls. No texts. No social media. I didn't reach out. She couldn't reach me. Simple as that. For the better part of my life, I was hopelessly in love with her—waiting on her, caring for her, putting her first in every way that mattered. I gave her all of me without ever holding back. But after the seventh time she left me sitting alone at the City Hall, something inside me broke. I was done. If that meant spending the rest of my life alone, so be it. Better that than sitting in an empty apartment, listening to the silence, holding on to hope for someone who never planned to show up.

In the late stages of her pregnancy, my wife slipped away into the mountains with her childhood sweetheart, seeking some reckless thrill under the open sky. Fate, however, had other plans. She suffered a massive hemorrhage, and the two were rushed to the hospital. As a doctor, I took one glance at her condition and instructed the nurse to prepare for the cremation. In my previous life, I had risked everything to save her. On that very operating table, she and the child inside her perished together. Her childhood sweetheart, overcome with grief and fury, rallied others to accuse me of seeking personal revenge. Their rage was relentless, and they broke my hands. "A butcher like you, without medical ethics, deserves nothing less than eternal damnation!" they shouted, their words burning like brands on my soul. Yet I distinctly remembered—the surgery had been a success. Her vital signs had stabilized. Clinging to hope, I begged my in-laws to conduct an autopsy, to uncover the truth buried beneath the accusations. Instead, they called the police, who swiftly charged me with performing surgery under the influence of alcohol. Stripped of my rights, I was thrown into prison, where suffering became my only companion. Years later, upon release, I stumbled across a sight that tore what was left of my heart to shreds—my wife, alive and well, behind the wheel of a luxury car, accompanied by her childhood sweetheart and their child, living off the fortune I had worked tirelessly to build. Their betrayal didn't end there. Coldly and methodically, they lured me into a trap, casting me into a cement mixer to erase every trace of my existence. When I next opened my eyes, time had rewound itself. I was back on that fateful day, the one when her hemorrhage began.

Our third wedding anniversary was coming up, but my wife, a programmer at a major tech company, suddenly claimed she had to work overtime to meet deadlines. She said she couldn't go on the trip we'd planned. That very afternoon, however, her intern posted a video on social media. My wife—the same woman who normally wouldn't even open a door for fear of chipping her manicure—was holding a screwdriver, repairing an old flip phone. The caption read: [Having a programmer wife is the best. Even when Grandma's phone breaks, we don't need to pay for repairs.] I chuckled, liked the post, and commented: [Right up her alley.] Within minutes, the company group chat exploded. There were over ninety-nine unread messages speculating on when I'd finally snap. Not long after, my wife called. Her voice was ice-cold. "What was that comment supposed to mean? How is Shawn supposed to face anyone at work now? "His grandma's phone broke, so I fixed it. What's the problem? Your parents have always spoiled you. You can't possibly understand real hardship. "Delete the comment. I'll make it up to you over the New Year; we can take that trip then." The New Year? I'd already waited through two other major public holidays. I'd even taken special leave for this trip, and she still bailed. Now she was dangling empty promises again? I hung up on her. My leave ended around the same time as our divorce cooling-off period.

We love reading novels, fall in love with the characters, sometimes envy the main girl for getting the perfect male lead... but what happens when you get inside your own novel and get to meet your perfect main lead and bonus...get treated like the female lead?! As the clock struck 12, Arielle Taylor is pulled inside her own novel. This cinderella is over the moon as her Prince Charming showers her with his attention but what would happen when she finds herself falling for her fairy godmother instead? Please read my interview with Goodnovel at: https://tinyurl.com/y5zb3tug Cover pic: pixabay

Rielle, a popular web-novel writer, got caught up in a scandal that ruined her life and everything she ever worked for. Jumping down the towel was all she thought about as she walked down the street leading to the tall building. What gain would it be if she dies and allow her enemies live to enjoy staring at her down beneath the ground? She shunned ending her life and decided to move on but then, seeing the created image of her female lead character displayed on the screen, she felt so jealous of her perfect life. Her character got everything she ever wanted. A perfect life, a perfect world, a position that commands power, her perfect mate, and a powerful villain obsessed with her. Such a perfect, pathetic life! Rielle thought in disgust. She did the unthinkable........ She ended her perfect female lead character. Killing her for no reason. The next morning when she opened her eyes, she was in her own web-novel world and was brought in by the villain. He vowed to be her protector if only she does one thing. "You killed my lover Keisha, and now, you are going to bring her back, or I kill you." he declared, staring at her menacingly. She shivered at the sight of his eyes and knew at that moment that he is the DARK WOLF. The villain of her novel. Not the kind of protector who threatens her, she wanted. But then, she was ready to make him be at her service when she calls. Is danger and destruction lurking with her in her novel world and her with the villain? How far would he go to protect her when everyone would want to take her?