Ridiculous Novels & Stories

My adopted daughter, Phoebe Marsh, possessed an evil ability. Whenever she got hurt, the pain would also be inflicted directly on my biological daughter, Maisie Shaw. She deliberately hurt herself, covering her body with wounds and bruises. Then, she would turn around with cold eyes, watching Maisie writhe on the floor in agony until she passed out from the pain. With no medical solution available, I broke down and held Maisie close, begging my husband, Brandon Shaw, to send Phoebe away. However, he would erupt in fury. "It's obviously Maisie who's been faking illness for attention, and you're making up this ridiculous story to get rid of Phoebe. She's just a fragile, helpless child. How can you be so vicious?" After that, Phoebe escalated her self-harm even more viciously. Meanwhile, Maisie spent every day curled up in the corner of her bed, refusing to let anyone touch her. On Maisie's birthday, Phoebe threw herself from the fifth floor. Just as Maisie was blowing out her candles and making a wish, she suddenly began bleeding from all her facial orifices, and she died instantly. Yet, Phoebe only suffered minor scrapes. I died from overwhelming grief shortly after. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to Phoebe's first day in our home. Maisie was playing with her Legos when she suddenly clutched her ankle and started crying. This time, I grabbed the broom from behind the door and swung it toward Maisie, shouting, "I'll beat you up for faking illness and seeking attention!"

Marrying Sebastian Romano had felt like a wish granted too perfectly to be real… until reality crushed it. For two years, Jasmine lived in a blur of champagne, penthouse lights, and a husband who looked at her like she was his entire future. In the third year, the silence arrived. The kisses turned into calendar appointments. The marriage shrank into handshakes and small talk. Then Jasmine found the truth. Sweet messages that were not for her. Hotel bookings that did not include her name. A blonde secretary who did not know shame. Jasmine walked out without looking back. She left her ring, the signed divorce papers, and her ruined heart on their ridiculous king-size bed. What she did not know was that another life had already started inside her. Five years later, Jasmine lived small on purpose. Quiet. Safe. Her child grew up without drama, without the weight of the Romano name. Jasmine promised herself it would stay that way. Until Adrian. Adrian was nothing like the men who used to own her world. Calm where they were cruel, clever without being cruel, steady in a way that felt dangerous only because she wanted to trust it. With him, Jasmine finally stopped feeling like a problem to fix and started feeling like a person to keep. When Adrian dropped to one knee at a glittering Monte Carlo...Jasmine did something she had sworn never to do again. She thought about forever. Then she saw him. Sebastian Romano. The man she had loved, left, and learned to hate in the exact same lifetime. Those cold eyes. That unreadable face. The past she thought she had buried standing three steps away from her fresh start. “Interesting,” Sebastian said. “Your fiancé… happens to be my brother.”

Triple Threats -Strong Female Lead -Three scoundrels, Cough! Cuties on a mission. -Rebirth Interviewer, "If you and your husband's mistress are drowning, who would he save first?" Scarlett Tates scoffs, "That's a ridiculous question. I don't have the time to play such stupid games. In Fact, you've just reminded me to take swimming lessons." Dakota Asgrave frosts over, "Mrs Asgrave how can I be your prince charming if you don't spare me some opportunities? You, stop this interview! How dare you put bad thoughts into my wife's mind?! Isn't it hard enough that she is a prodigy in everything?!" Interviewer, "..." * * * Scarlett Tates, an overbearing aristocrat, didn't expect the cliche that happens in books to happen to her as well. Her fiance, whom she donated a kidney to, cheated on her with her senior step-sister. Distraught, she sought solace in alcohol and ended up sleeping with an unknown man! Strangely, after that steamy night she found herself, bloody and with a sickly baby girl in front of her parents' gates with no memory of what had happened or where she's been in the last 9 months! Over the next ten years, the once proud woman was chastised by the world, used and abused by her family, fiance and her once greatest hope of a love-filled life, her husband. What's worse she was separated from her daughter for five years! In the end, Scarlett died a miserable death of being run down by a car like an animal and made a wish in her last breath. It seemed God had finally noticed her when she opened her eyes, back five years in the past! After being given a second chance how will Scarlett take charge of her life? What truths might she discover on her way of becoming the next top doctor?

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.

“And what does that have to do with me?” I frowned. Ace Hunter didn't even blink. “You're going to save my Boxing career.” I laughed. “Excuse me?” “You're the only genius on this campus who can drag my grades out of the gutter.” He folded his arms. “And in return, I'll help you get over my brother.” My heart skipped. “What?” “I'll fake date you.” I stared at him like he'd completely lost his mind. “The rumors will spread. Brooks will watch the girl he's always taken for granted become someone else's. He'll finally see you as a woman instead of his kid sister.” His lips curved into a dangerous smile. “And while we're at it, I'll keep my GPA high enough to stay captain of the hockey team.” “You're insane.” “Maybe. But I'm also your best shot.” ... For three years, I loved my childhood best friend in silence. The night I finally gathered the courage to confess, he introduced me to his fiancée instead. Humiliated and heartbroken, I accepted the most ridiculous deal on campus. Tutor Ace Hunter—the university's arrogant Boxing Champion, who's one failed class away from losing everything—and pretend to be his girlfriend for six months. The rules were simple. No strings attached. No real kisses. And absolutely no falling in love. But fake relationships have a dangerous way of feeling real. Especially when the boy I thought I'd never stop loving suddenly decides he wants me back. Now I'm trapped between two brothers, and a fake relationship that's beginning to feel like the only real thing in my life.

On the eve of our wedding, I refused Aria Carter's first love's ridiculous request to take my place as her groom for a month. In a fit of anger, he stormed off, drove onto the highway, and was killed in a car accident. That very night, Aria grabbed me by the neck and demanded, "I already agreed to marry you, so why couldn't you fulfill this one tiny wish for him?!" To avenge her first love, she brought in a stand-in to replace him and punished me day and night. Not only did she abort our child, but she also framed my dad for illegal fundraising, forcing him to die in prison. Unable to take the shock, my mom suffered a heart attack and ended up in the ICU. When I went to beg for her signature with the hospital bill yet again, I saw her locked in a passionate embrace with the stand-in. "Aria, you're already pregnant with my child. Do I really have to keep pretending to be dead?" Aria panted breathlessly, her eyes clouded with desire. "There's no rush. Let Conrad suffer a bit more, or he'll never learn to be obedient. "After all, that half-dead mother of his is still waiting on my money for her medical bills." It turned out Aria's first love wasn't dead at all! The atonement I believed in was nothing more than a game to them. My child and my parents were merely pawns to be toyed with in their game. I waited the entire night. It wasn't until dawn that I took the bill and rushed to the hospital in a daze. Only to be informed that my mom had slit her wrists and committed suicide the night before, leaving me with just one final sentence. [Conrad, I won't drag you down anymore.]

While on vacation, I return to my hometown to help my parents harvest pears. After seeing my Instagram post, my son's homeroom teacher, Ernest Dugan, sends me a private message. "So you sell pears, Mr. Miller? The kindergarten hasn't finalized next month's fruit supplier yet, so we'll order from you. You won't suffer any loss from this deal. I'll pay five dollars per pound. You just need to arrange transportation and deliver them to the kindergarten." I almost laugh out loud. My family's pears are the famous Green Jewel variety; they are known as the "Hermes of pears". They sell for over 100 dollars per pound on average. Five dollars wouldn't even cover the cost of a single pear. Even though Ernest is being ridiculous, I still reply politely, "Sorry, all of our pears are reserved. You'll need to find another supplier." To my surprise, Ernest immediately posts photos of my family's pears in the parent group chat. He writes, "Next month's fruit selection for the kindergarten will be upgraded to Green Jewel pears. If anyone wishes to buy some for personal consumption, feel free to place orders below. The price is five dollars per pound." The chat group buzzes with activity as parents rush to place orders one after another. Three days later, they block the truck carrying my shipment to Windford. Determined to force the sale, they surround the vehicle and refuse to let it leave. Before they can ransack the truck, several military-plated vehicles arrive and seal off the road. A group of officials steps out with stern, angry expressions. One of them coldly demands, "These are pears specially ordered for this weekend's state banquet. Who said you could lay a finger on them?"

Manhattan was doing that thing again twinkling like it had all the answers, when really it just had expensive lighting. Alexander Knight leaned against the glass wall of his penthouse, seventy-five floors up, watching the city hum below him. Bourbon in one hand (mostly untouched), phone in the other. The merger docs stared back at him from the screen, but the part that actually kept him up at night wasn’t the billions on the line. It was the fine print from the Japanese investors: “Family stability preferred.” Translation: get a wife, look settled, or watch the whole deal slip away. He exhaled, fogging the window for a second before it cleared. His assistant had already sent over a neat little list of “suitable” women—discreet, polished, zero drama. Women who understood arrangements. He hadn’t even opened the attachments. Because something about the whole thing felt… hollow. His gaze drifted down, past the grid of lights, to the tiny café on the corner. Golden glow spilling onto the sidewalk, handwritten sign in the window: Local Artist Pop-Up – One Night Only. A woman stood in front of a canvas, head tilted, paint-smudged shirt slipping off one shoulder. She was talking to someone out of view, laughing softly, then stepped back to study her work like it had personally offended her. She glanced up—straight toward his building, straight at him somehow, even though there was no way she could see him up here. But for a split second, their eyes locked across the impossible distance. But right then, with the whole damn city glittering between them, he had this ridiculous, unshakable thought: She’s the one I’m going to ask. And hell help them both when she says yes.

“You’re mad,” I said, staring at him like he had completely lost his mind. A slow smile spread across his face as he stepped closer. “Mad for you.” I almost laughed. “I’m going to get rid of this thing you think you can use to trap me,” I said, my voice calm, steady, and dangerous. “Let’s see how mad for me you are after that.” I turned to leave. “You won’t dare.” That made me stop. Then I smiled. Because he clearly didn’t know me. *** Alexandra Fisher Hale does not lose control. She doesn’t do relationships, she doesn’t do marriage, and she definitely does not do children. To her, emotions are distractions and people are liabilities. Her life is planned, calculated, and completely in her hands… until one moment ruins everything. She faints at her twin brother’s wedding and wakes up to the most ridiculous truth of her life. She’s pregnant. No relationship. No mistake. No explanation. Which begs the question… what is this? The second coming of baby Jesus? Because the last time she checked, that was the only way this made sense. But before she can even figure out how her life turned into a joke, the world already has answers for her. She’s engaged. To a man she hasn’t spoken to in years. A man who is watching her like he has already won. Now her name is everywhere, her reputation is on the line, and every move she makes is being controlled by someone she cannot see yet. But one thing is certain. This is not a coincidence. It’s a trap. And whoever set it… Clearly forgot one thing. Alexandra Fisher Hale does not lose.

After I'm done with the healing process at the Holy Springs, I return to the pack where my younger brother, Cole Blackclaw, and I reside. Unexpectedly, before I can step into the pack's territory, I find my path getting blocked by a few wolves whom I've never seen before. "If you want to enter the Moon Pack, you'd better submit everything on the list!" The leading she-wolf of the group tosses a list filled with things in my face. The list shows the criteria needed to enter the Moon Pack's territory—venison of the Deer King, tens of millions of Healing Rocks, and over a million beauty tonics! I never expected that Cole would list such harsh conditions for anyone who wishes to join the Moon Pack during my three-year absence! How did those geezers at the Elders' Council even let him get away with this idea in the first place? I roared angrily, "Tell Cole to get his ass out here and see me! I'm Wendy Blackclaw, his older sister!" As soon as my words fall, the she-wolf covers her mouth and begins shrieking at me. "How ridiculous! I'm Cole's mate, Amy McGrave! Cole never told me he had an older sister! Can you even submit these things? If not, then get lost! The Moon Pack doesn't welcome wolves like you!" I just stand where I am as I huff coldly in return. "You've never seen me, seeing as I was gone for three years. That's fine—I don't blame you for that. But now, I want Cole to see me right now. Otherwise, he can forget about retaining his Alpha status!"