Realistic Fiction Books For 12 Year-olds Mga Nobela at Kwento

Wendy Lloyd's first love, Hudson Clark, treats me like a walking blood bank. Because of that, I end up dying in the rented apartment Wendy has given to me out of contemptuous pity. Today is the third day of my death. My six-year-old son, Terry Heath, finally realizes that something is wrong with me. When he accidentally cuts his finger from playing with his toys, I don't coax him at all. When he tears open a pack of cookies and feeds one to me, I don't stop him at all. When he lies in my arms and grips me by the hem of my shirt while calling out to me softly, I don't respond to him at all. Feeling rather uneasy, Terry finds my phone and calls Wendy. "Mommy, why is Daddy still asleep?" Wendy responds by sending a photo of her and Hudson enjoying a holiday feast together. She then says coldly, "He's just asleep, not dead. Today is Christmas Eve, so I'm very busy right now. "Tell that arrogant father of yours that he's only free to visit me whenever he's ready to acknowledge his mistakes." After that, the call ends. Terry is left feeling stunned for a long time. Finally, he digs out the last cookie from the trash can and snaps it in half. Then, he feeds it to me again. "Daddy, let's eat."

The seer's prophecy was clear: Alpha Alistair Blackthorn would betray his Luna in the fifth year of their mating. Alistair laughed and kicked her table over. "Eight years with Selene. You think I would throw that away for some liar's words?" For four years after, he was perfect. Tender. Devoted. He rejected Jade Moonshadow, the Gamma female who confessed her love, and had her driven from pack lands. I believed him completely. Then came our fifth anniversary. A package arrived with no return address. Inside, a photograph—Alistair and Jade tangled together, raw and intimate. On the back, written in careful script: His heart stays with you. His body stays with me. Now we're even. At the bottom of the box, a pair of pink lace underwear. The same pair she wore. I sat alone for three hours. I did not call him. Instead, I went to the elders and asked them to prepare the Severance papers.

Mia Thomson, an eighteen-year-old high school student, is heartbroken when she learns her longtime boyfriend has fallen for her best friend. Overwhelmed, she collapses and is rushed to the hospital. There, she unexpectedly encounters Shawn Mandez, the CEO of Beats Corporation, who urgently needs a spouse. Despite her predicament, Mia decides to help him out, only to be swiftly served divorced by him immediately after they finish signing their marriage certificate: “I’ll have my personal assistant send you the divorce papers," the CEO, who was not a man of many words, uttered coldly. Right at this moment, a sleek black Maybach pulled up in front of them. Without sparing the girl as little as a second glance, the demi-god stepped into the luxurious car and it soon disappeared out of sight. Mia was stunned.

NOEL DIDN’T JUST KISS ME, HE TRAPPED ME. AND AS I STARE AT THE FILE, I REALIZE THE 12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS JUST BECAME A COUNTDOWN TO MY OWN PERSONAL DISASTER. When Anahera Kallio agreed to take on a high-profile client during the holidays, she never expected it to be Noel Rautio—the scorching-hot hockey star who is her brother’s sworn enemy on the ice. One stolen kiss under the mistletoe was bad enough, but now he’s got her cornered with a secret recording and a devilish ultimatum: stick with his therapy sessions or watch her career go up in flames. As the 12 Days of Christmas tick by, every heated session pulls them deeper into forbidden territory. Noel’s walls are cracking, Anahera’s resolve is melting, and the line between professional and passionate blurs into chaos. But with loyalties to her brother, hidden scandals and a ticking clock threatening to expose everything, this holiday fling could shatter more than just the ice. Unless they rewrite the rules and turn disaster into desire. Will Anahera escape Noel’s trap…or surrender to the ultimate holiday score?

Everyone thinks I've lost my mind when I marry Bryan Sable. That's because I'm the daughter of the richest family in town, while he's just the owner of a small company. Everyone says he's only marrying me for my money. They don't know that he's willing to risk his life just to be with me. He also spent years pursuing me. On the day of the wedding, apart from the wedding ring, I also give him 99 free passes, saying, "If you ever upset me, you can use one of the free passes to cancel it out. But once you've used up all 99 of them, this marriage ends." Bryan swears he will never even use a single one of the free passes. But not long after we get married, he gets involved with his secretary, Roxy Upton. From that moment onward, the free passes get used up in rapid succession. He uses one when he misses my birthday party because of her. He uses another when I find a hickey left on his neck by someone other than me. It gets to a point where even our butler can't help but remind Bryan, "Mr. Sable, I think Mrs. Sable is upset right now. Are you sure you want to leave now to go to Ms. Upton?" But Bryan doesn't think much of it. "If she's upset, let her be upset. What's the worst that can happen? I'll just use one of the free passes. I've only used about 50 of them. I've got plenty of chances left." He has no clue that he only has three free passes left. And by now, I no longer kick up a fuss. I'm simply waiting for the day he uses up the final chance. I'm going to watch him dig his own grave, losing me as well as everything I've given him.

At the family dinner over the holidays, Elias Barrett has given all of our relatives and their children thick wads of cash. When it's my turn, he just frowns at me. "We've been together for so long. What's the point in going through the motions? You're the one managing the finances, so you can just withdraw what you need from the account." I merely nod without saying anything. But soon, I notice a text message from his bank popping out on the notifications' list. "You have transferred 1,430 dollars to Jamie Sutton. Remark: Babe, happy holidays. XOXO Elias." It turns out that Elias' anti-formalism rule is meant for me, not others. I don't bother starting a fight or throwing a tantrum. Instead, I just cancel the booking on my wedding venue that will be used next month. After that, I shred the kidney donation consent form meant for Elias into pieces. Once the holidays are over, I'm not going to extend Elias' life for him anymore.

Marked by Monsters Genre: Dark Fantasy Romance, Reverse Harem, Academy, Monster Mates I thought I was human. Normal. Boring. Cursed with a gluten allergy and a sarcastic streak. But on my eighteenth birthday, lightning slammed into my chest like a cosmic bitch slap, and I woke up with no memory… and a very illegal ability to shift into a silver and black wolf. That’s when the enforcers came. They called me a threat. A ticking magical bomb. And they threw me into Gravemire Academy, a creepy, ancient school built for supernatural disasters like me. Now I’m the new girl in a school where detention can literally kill you, and every hallway smells like blood, sex, and secrets. Worse? I’m being claimed by four dangerously hot, infuriatingly possessive monster boys who swear I’m their fated mate: 🐺 A broken alpha with murder in his eyes. 🐉 A dragon prince with a sharp tongue and sharper claws. 🧛‍♂️ A vampire who looks at me like I’m his last meal. 😈 And a dream demon who touches me like he already owns my soul. Each kiss makes my magic spiral. Each touch unravels a curse tied to my bloodline. If I kiss the wrong one first… I might doom them all. Oh, and there’s something ancient inside me. Something powerful. Something waking up. I don’t know who I was before Gravemire, but one thing’s clear: I’m not just their mate. I’m the weapon that was never supposed to exist. And I’m done being controlled.

I'm on a vacation during the holidays. When I'm scheduling to buy a ticket home, I accidentally oversleep. Still, I manage to secure a train ticket home. Due to the uncomfortable ride, I reach home looking very haggard and wretched. As soon as I step through the front door, I see someone stuffing a bunch of cleaning appliances into my arms. A woman can be seen gazing at me haughtily. Then, she starts ordering me around. "Hurry up! You must clean up this house by 6:00 pm tonight!" I notice that she's wearing my mom's pajamas. Then, I retreat to the doorway just so I can study the double-storied mansion again. This is my home! But who the hell is that woman? Also, who does she expect to clean up this place? Me? As in the only daughter of the wealthiest man in the city? I tap on my family's group chat and tag my dad. "@Dad: Hey, why did your new flame order me to clean the house?"

My childhood sweetheart who promised to marry me the moment I graduated proposed to Camille Willow, my sister, during my graduation ceremony. At that moment, Dennis Malcolm, the most eligible and admired bachelor in Blington City's elite circle, stepped forward and confessed his love for me immediately after my childhood sweetheart's proposal was accepted. For five years after our marriage, Dennis showered me with devotion, treating me with such tenderness that it felt as though I were the center of his world. But everything shattered the day I overheard a conversation between him and his close friend. "Dennis, now that Camille's on top, are you really going to keep pretending with Tracy?" "It doesn't matter. I'll never have Camille. Besides, as long as I'm here, she'll never disrupt Camille's happiness," he answered. The paper notes he held dear, each one carefully preserved, revealed a harsh truth. Each one carried her name, accompanied by heartfelt wishes: "May Camille be released from her burdens. May she find peace within herself." "May Camille achieve all she dreams of, and may her heart love freely." "Camille, we were never meant to be together in this life. I can only hope that in another, we will walk side by side." … Five years of devotion shattered in a single moment of clarity. I crafted a false identity and planned an elaborate drowning to vanish without a trace. From this day forward, in this life and all others, we shall never cross paths again.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.