Rent Me For Valentine's Day Novels & Stories

My husband, Julian Sutton, is busy with work on the day of my prenatal checkup. His childhood sweetheart, Vera Levine, with whom he's been amorous for years, offers to drive me. On the way there, she suddenly swerves and rams into the back of a truck. The car is flattened. Julian is a doctor in the emergency room, but I don't call him. Instead, I dial 911 and wait for assistance. Why? I called him in my past life, and he took me to the hospital. Our child was saved, but Vera died due to significant blood loss. Julian claimed not to blame me and even arranged for me to stay in a private hospital ward. But on the day I was discharged, he dragged me to Vera's grave and stabbed me. I lost the child and was on the verge of death as I stared into his bloodshot eyes. They were filled with unbridled hatred as he snarled, "Vera wouldn't have died if you hadn't grabbed the wheel! Don't think I'll believe you just because you're acting innocent! An eye for an eye—I want you to die for her, but only after experiencing the pain she felt in a hundredfold!" He twisted the blade and stabbed me repeatedly. My blood splattered on Vera's gravestone, dying it red. When I open my eyes again, I find that I've been taken back to the scene of the accident.

Right after finishing a meeting, I opened a forum and saw a warning post. The location tag was our company. The title read: “Red flag! What a cheap company. Anyone who joins is a total sucker. They can’t even afford a decent coffee break.” The photo attached showed the expensive coffee and five-star desserts I had just asked my assistant to distribute to everyone. I frowned and tagged the entire group chat, asking if anyone had suggestions about the afternoon tea. A Gen-Z intern who had just joined, Julian Hayes, instantly replied with a voice message: “Boss, no offense, but these assembly-line desserts are full of trans fats. Nobody would eat them.” “A truly humane company hires a Michelin chef to cook and slice everything fresh on site. That’s what real respect for employees looks like.” I laughed in disbelief. Our company’s daily coffee break budget was thirty dollars per person—already considered top-tier in the industry. So I replied, “Since it’s impossible to satisfy everyone’s taste, we’ll cancel afternoon tea from now on and convert the budget into cash for everyone instead.” Less than five minutes later, that post was updated: “Guys, can you believe this? I made a perfectly reasonable suggestion and the lame boss immediately canceled the whole coffee break perk! This is the true face of corporate greed—can’t handle even a little bit of honesty!”

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 sister-in-law, Alicia, insisted that her son was a chosen fighter, blessed by God and immune to harm. The truth was far darker: every injury meant for him was being transferred onto my daughter. His congenital heart disease disappeared overnight. While most children his age were still carefully protected, he was already taking part in extreme sports and never suffered so much as a scratch. Meanwhile, my once-healthy daughter weakened day by day. She began to suffer unexplained fractures throughout her body. There was not a single place left uninjured. It was impossible not to see the connection. When I voiced my suspicions to my husband, Jeff Charlton, and my mother-in-law, Kelly Freeman, they dismissed me as delusional. They accused me of being jealous that Alicia had given birth to a prodigy, while I had nothing but a "worthless" daughter. Later, Alicia's son completed a trek across the Saharain Desert and became an overnight sensation, a child star adored by millions. At the same time, my daughter suddenly collapsed from heatstroke and died without warning. Alicia went live on her platform, accusing me of making false claims out of envy. Her followers believed every word. They hunted me down and ended my life. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back at the moment Alicia first proclaimed her son a miracle child. This time, I was no longer a powerless mother. As a specialist doctor, I calmly pulled on my gloves. "Alicia," I said with a smile, "Let me examine my nephew and see if he's truly cured."

For ten years, Autumn Lewis and Julian Carter were childhood sweethearts. After three years of marriage, all she got in return were injuries, neglect from her brothers, and betrayal from her husband. When Autumn found out she had stage-two stomach cancer, something in her finally let go. She picked herself up and rose from an unnoticed employee to a powerhouse in the tech world. As soon as the divorce cooling-off period ended, she tricked Julian into signing the papers and made a clean break. The next time they met, the ever-calculating Julian’s eyes turned red as he tore up the divorce certificate. “Autumn, I was wrong. We’re not getting divorced. If I could give you my stomach, I would—just please don’t leave me.” Her once-proud brothers now pleaded, “Autumn, forgive us. Your sister-in-law is filing for divorce. Could you spare us some money?” Just then, a man stepped out from behind her, lifted his shirt slightly, and sneered. “Autumn, why waste your time on these jerks? Look at me instead.” Indeed, affection that came too late was worth less than dirt. She didn’t care for it anymore.

Lucas is a thoughtful, hardworking, and loving individual. Emma is a caring, bubbly, and vivacious individual. Together they make the futures most beautiful Bonnie and Clyde as they make it through the biggest day in their criminal career.

Demitri and Becca are inseparable from birth. But when two friends become academic rivals, they may reconsider their bond. Will it last, or will jealousy get the best of them?

Angel Matthew was tired of being the only virgin girl on campus, until New Year's Eve she gave her virginity to Erick Cullen- a new student at class. After the union of their bodies. Angel was faced with a the fact that Erick is a vampire. She tried not to believe it, but the appearance of Jack Wild - a handsome werewolf who was also after her - was proof that all of this was real. When Angel wanted to dodge, it was too late, because she was a "Holy Maiden" that their clan was fighting over.

In this thrilling fabrication, watch how a young woman gets an unexpected bloody surprise on her wedding day! Joana, a young lady plans to get married immediately after high school to the love of her life, Andrew on her 18th birthday. She is unaware that she descends from a historical line of vampires, and she has lived her whole life as a human, with no knowledge of the supernatural. Due to an agreement made by one of her ancestors, Marilyn Lou, to the supreme council centuries ago, she is fated to become a vampire on her 18th birthday, the day she plans on getting married. She wants to return to her life as a human, and together with Derick, a vampire in Lou's coven who was in love with her ancestor, they begin the search for the council to make a new agreement. Will Joana be able to adapt to the new life she is about to encounter? Will her feelings for Derick get in the way of her plans? This is a story of love, mystery, drama, and more importantly, Vampires! Find out how Joana handles her fate in "Wedding day Vampire" This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Buried deep in the Aster estate was the Heartwood—ancient, sacred, mine. Told my husband, Julian Aster—back when he actually listened—that if it ever fell, I'd die with it. At first, he freaked out. Flew in glacier water, hired a whole squad of plant experts to nurture it 24/7. Then one day, just because his childhood friend—Isabella Duvall—got a scratch from the bark, Julian had the Heartwood ripped out. The second it crashed, I choked on glowing blood—ichor. My power? Gone. Barely standing, I grabbed his arm. "You knew. If the Heartwood dies, I—" He laughed. Straight-up mocked me. "Sera, come on. That fairy tale? Only Grandma still believes that crap. Is that mayo on your mouth? Relax—it's a tree. I'll buy you a forest if you want." Overnight, my hair turned gray. Skin cracked. Eyes dulled. Still, I dragged myself to his grandmother, Henrietta. "I kept your family safe for two hundred years. That's why the Asters thrived. But the Heartwood's gone. Debt's paid. One day left. Whatever happens next? Not my problem."