Red Blush Face Novels & Stories

Amara has a life built on Survival. Between the club, bills, and caring for her sick mother, she doesn't have room for anything else. So when her friend Davina offers her a quick, easy job— a fake date with a billionaire — she thinks it's just another paycheck. But meeting Dorian Wellington changes everything. Calm, controlled, and impossibly wealthy, he seems untouchable, yet there's a quiet pull between them that neither can explain. When he sees her later at the club, everything he thought he knew about her shatters. Curiosity turns to intrigue, and intrigue slowly becomes desire. Their worlds begin to collide in ways neither of the expected — Fake dates, private moments, and unspoken tension that grows with every encounter. But secrets and walls run deep and Amara has more to hide than he could ever imagine. Can two people from such different worlds find trust, love and a way to let go …. before it's too late?

Nearly 3 years, Bella lived and worked in Brian's house, she was always teased by him, and he always said he loved her. Everything was repeated until one day she climbed into his bed and had sex with him while drunk. Although Bella tries to forget that memorable night, Brian constantly clings to her. He gave her a diamond ring and asked to marry her. Finally, she was charmed by him and accepted to love him. But events happened and Bella had to choose to leave Brian and when they met again, the wall of hatred and misunderstanding between them kept piling up.

In one night, her life was ruined and never remained the same as she gets disowned by her father, tried to take her own life, but survived and eventually ended up in the hands of human traffickers. Onehhhh fateful night, she got drugged by her so called friends and loses her virginity to a complete stranger. The next morning, she accused for murder but couldn't remember anything that must have transpired last night. It was also said that, she had supposedly had sex with the deceased. There are lot of secrets to uncover. Secrets pertaining; who the real murder was, the person that took her virginity and the father of her unborn child as she discovers she was pregnant a few weeks later.

My mother said I was a born beauty and was able to charm any man. She told me not to touch a man before my twentieth birthday. In the previous timeline, I listened to her, so when a wealthy heir was dosed with an aphrodisiac, I pushed him away when he tried to take me into his embrace. But the effects of the skincare routine I did transferred to my mother after my twentieth birthday. I used face masks, but my face became wrinkled and spotted. Meanwhile, my mother glowed with smooth and youthful skin. I danced, but I only became fatter while my mother became slim. Seeing how I looked like a fifty-year-old woman, my father called me a useless piece of trash and wanted to marry me off to a bald man as his second wife. I cried and begged my mother for help. But she said this was for my own good, her twenty-something face a mask of hypocrisy. I was forced to run away from home, but doing so only sped up my aging. Three days later, I died on the streets right by a trash heap. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back in time to the night I met that rich heir. This time, I did not push him away but straddled him in bed.

Xavier is on the verge of giving up and settling for what his life is -grueling, onerous, and insipid. Sierra is a woman with dreams as big as the sun but a heart as rigid as a rocky mountain. She is constantly facing obstacles and has a hard time letting go and healing from events of her past. These two are least likely to make a match but when the odds are in favor, hope blossoms for them. On the other hand, Xander is an accomplished man with the power kings crave and intellect that the world envies atop a slight maniacal charm. Between the two underground kings, Xavier and Xander, lies the only queen left- Sierra -she has to choose between a mysterious love full of surprises or love that she could only dream of. In this compelling novel, we take a new approach to whimsical romance, banter, and the grim side of reality. Find out how the story unfolds, twists, and turns in this revolutionary book - My Altered Mate. by Lothaire.

After my engagement to Simon Page, he secretly planned a trip abroad with Yara Watson, the woman he had loved for years. The day before their departure, he was chatting with his friends and Yara in the lounge of a golf club. "Simon, you just got engaged, and you're already taking Yara on a trip. Aren't you afraid Rosalyn will find out?" Simon scoffed. "I hired a guy to pose as her suitor. He’ll keep her so occupied that she won’t have time to bother me. "If something really happens between them, even better. I can use it as an excuse to officially end the engagement and be with Yara openly." Standing outside the door, I trembled as his words sank in. Tears streamed down my face as I looked at the handsome man behind me, his expression filled with guilt. "Then let’s grant him his wish and get married." But just as I was preparing for the wedding, Simon suddenly knelt before me in agony. "Rosalyn, I was wrong. Please, don’t marry him!"

On the day I tried on my wedding dress, a stranger burst into the VIP fitting room and slashed me with a knife. She tore my dress to shreds, her face twisted with rage. "A gold-digger like you doesn't deserve a dress this expensive!" The blade, soaked in sulfuric acid, pierced my abdomen, and I collapsed in agony. She grabbed my hair and slapped me, snarling, "Clarence promised to marry me! You're nothing but a homewrecker!" Blood stained my gown as the truth hit me. My boyfriend of seven years had been cheating on me. "Keep staring, huh? My man runs this city. I could kill you, and no one would touch me!" she taunted, smug as hell. With bloodied hands, I pulled out my phone and dialed my brother. "Chris, come get me from the bridal shop. And tell the Thompsons the engagement is off."

As one of London's premier wedding planners, I have spent my career orchestrating "perfect moments" for others, yet I never seemed to find my own. The ballroom at Claridge's was bathed in an opulent glow for my best friend Stella's wedding. The bridal bouquet sailed over the crowd. It brushed a young woman's fingertips, bounced once, and landed squarely in my arms. In an instant, half of London's high society turned toward Ryan. "Proposal! Proposal!" the crowd chanted over the rhythmic clink of champagne flutes. "Ryan, a sign like that is rare. Looks like we should prepare for the next big party!" Ryan was nudged forward by the crowd. In his charcoal Savile Row suit, he still managed to look detached, as if the noise had nothing to do with him. As I held the flowers, the lingering scent of fresh roses filled the air. For one ridiculous second, I even wondered whether I should warn him not to crease his trousers if he knelt. But he only smiled. Then, with practised ease, he took the bouquet from my arms. Without the slightest hesitation, he turned and handed it to his assistant, Emily, who was standing nearby. "She touched it first," he said, ruffling my hair with the same flawless tenderness I had endured for eight years. "Be good, Claire. Let's wait for the right time." The attention followed the flowers as they moved away. I caught the flicker of triumph in Emily's eyes and quickly looked down, tracing the intricate patterns of the carpet while forcing a perfectly poised smile. Ryan lived by schedules and efficiency, yet he never understood one simple truth: some chances, once missed, don't come with a "next time". My own wedding is next Saturday. And he has been officially struck from the guest list.

Just after stepping out of the shower, I received a private message from my so-called uncle, Hank Shephard—a distant relative I barely ever spoke to. "Francis, that new car you posted looks impressive. Perfect for William's wedding!" I hadn't even figured out how to reply to that out-of-nowhere comment when another message popped up. "Your cousin William is getting married next month. Just treat your car as his wedding gift." The entitlement in his tone made my head hurt. I didn't bother arguing and closed the chat window. Apparently, he did not think there was anything wrong with what he had said. Messages kept coming. "Don't worry, your uncle won't let you suffer a loss. "When it's your turn to get married, I'll have William drive that car as your lead wedding car. It'll make you look good." I stared at the screen in silence. That was the moment I realized—Some people don't just feel entitled to your belongings. They believe your life exists to serve theirs.

* It is said that the most painful wounds leave the deepest scars. No one could attest to that more than Afrah Aminu. For eleven years she's kept a secret to herself, knowing that she might never be able to tell anyone. Not that she wanted to. But now, with the sudden arrival of a strange man in her life, she finds herself thrown into the terrifying situation of having to relive it all. As he tears down each and every wall she has set up around her heart, the memories of that haunting night come crashing in waves. Will she be able to survive it? Or will she be crushed underneath its weight?