Second Time Book Novels & Stories

Widowed mother of two, Amaliah Rivers starts working for her late husband's enemy; Tech billionaire Caesar Masterson to earn enough money to take care of her twin daughters and pay the debts her late husband left behind. Caesar falls in love with the beautiful Amaliah and is determined to win her heart despite her defiance and dislike for him.

My family has this outdated tradition. On my twenty-second birthday, whoever gets my heirloom bracelet first becomes my wife. For the past eighteen years, my childhood sweetheart, Madison Young, teased that she’d be the one to claim them. However, when I opened the box, the beads snapped and spilled across the floor, right in front of a blind girl passing by, Grace Bellamy. She bent down and picked them up. Madison made a scene, urging me to marry her instead, just to please my father’s illegitimate son, Connor Vaughn. Watching Grace stand there, flustered and surrounded, I stepped forward, shielding her with my body. "Fine," I said. "I’ll marry her."

I applied for paid time off to visit my wife, Luna Reid, a scientist who was away on an overseas assignment. As I was bored on the plane, I scrolled through social media when I was bored on the plane. Then, I came across a post. [My ex-girlfriend, who’s married, invited me to go on an overseas trip. What should I bring on that trip?] The netizens made fun of him. [Naturally you have to bring condoms. If you accidentally get her pregnant, her current husband will become the father of your child.] Some other netizens chastised them. Initially, I was reading it for my own entertainment. At that moment, I came across a comment left by a private account. [I’m that married ex-girlfriend. I hope that everyone can be mindful of their words.] [We’re not doing this for any immoral reasons. We just want to make up for lost time.] [The coming two weeks are the only time we have left together. I just want time to pass a little slower. I just ask for it to be a little slower.] I stared at that profile picture intently. The woman in the profile picture was none other than Luna, who had been overseas for three years. She had a two-week break, and she initially planned to return to the country to be with me. However, a day before her break, she suddenly told me that her research was at a critical stage, so her time-off had been cancelled. I missed her terribly, so I secretly applied for time off at work to give her a surprise. I had not expected that surprise to turn sour on me. At the same time, I received a text message from Luna. [Baby, starting tomorrow, for two weeks, my work has a do-not-disturb policy, so please don’t contact me.]

A soul lost in time. A suspended love story filled with yearning and longing. Such is the tale of The lord of the Underworld and his only Beloved. There is a myth about a town every 100 years on Halloween night; demons from the very pits of hell come up to the earth and roam the streets, blending into the disguised populous searching for the perfect bride for their Prince—the Prince of Darkness himself. Although believed to be merely a myth, this tale, though not entirely true, hold some truth. Will the Prince eventually find what he seeks? Will his thirst be quenched and his search over? One can only be that truth within the pages of this unfolding tale.

"Your love makes me sick." Those were the final words my husband, Vittorio De Luca, left me in my past life. On our wedding day, Elara Hale had crashed my ceremony, begging Vittorio to run away with her. But he chose to stay by my side. Yet, when Elara died of an illness shortly after, he harbored nothing but hatred for me. He detested that I had clung to him for over a decade, forcing him into a marriage he never wanted. More than that, he loathed himself for not running away with Elara. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn before everything went wrong. I looked at him, "Vittorio, I'm getting married." He looked a bit troubled. "You know I’m busy with a critical territorial expansion. My mind is entirely elsewhere…" “Never mind.” I offered a faint, indifferent smile. Relieved, Vittorio leaned in and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Don't worry. We've been together for twelve years. I'll do the right thing and take responsibility." He didn’t know what I meant, but I knew what I’d do in this lifetime. I would never choose him again, let alone marry him.

Billionaire heiress Julia Wilson had come to loathe Christmas. Five years ago, it had shattered her life when she walked in on her husband, Ryan Thompson, in what appeared to be a compromising position with his secretary. The heartbreak had forced her into premature labor. By the time her twins, Lucien and Olivia, were born, she’d signed the divorce papers, severing ties with the man she once loved. Ever since, Julia buried her pain behind an iron-clad business persona, working herself and her employees to the bone every holiday season to escape the memories of her ruined Christmas. For Ryan Thompson, Christmas was no easier. A top-tier lawyer and businessman infamous for his undefeated courtroom record, Ryan’s victories felt hollow compared to the loss of his family. A misunderstanding had cost him his wife and the chance to watch his twins grow. For five years, he’d kept his distance, silently watching over Julia and their children, waiting for the right time to make amends and reclaim what he had lost. A chance encounter with a stranger leads him to his family’s doorstep, dressed as Santa Claus. Will Julia slam the door in his face, or will she accept him for the sake of their children? Can they rekindle their love and fulfill the twins’ Christmas wish, or will their relationship burn in the wake of his betrayal? What Julia doesn’t know is that fate—or perhaps the twins’ clever planning—has something else in store.

The day my husband, Stellan Montclair, was killed in battle, my cousin, Daphne Langford, wept and declared she would follow him in death. No one asked for my opinion. By the time I arrived, they had already decided everything. In seven days, Daphne would be laid to rest alongside my husband in the Montclair family crypt, bearing the title of his lawful wife. When I stepped into the chapel, I found Daphne reclining on a cushioned chair with a damp cloth pressed to her forehead while my mother-in-law, Vivienne Prescott, personally spoon-fed her warm broth. Meanwhile, my son, Ansel Montclair, had been kneeling before the coffin for six hours straight, both legs so swollen that they were trembling. No one told him to get up. No one offered him a cushion to kneel on. Vivienne glanced up at me. "You're back. Daphne's being interred in the Montclair crypt as the lawful wife in seven days. See to the arrangements." In my previous life, I did not dare disobey. The entire capital praised Daphne for the depth of her devotion. Vivienne called her a woman of honor. The moment I so much as furrowed my brow, countless mouths stood ready to call me petty and small-hearted. Yet seven days later, Stellan came back from the dead. Only then did I learn that he had taken a death-feigning potion so that he could openly and rightfully marry Daphne. I was cast from wife to concubine and spent the rest of my life crushed under Daphne's thumb. My son was stripped of his status as the legitimate heir, barred from the family title, and left to scrape by among commoners for the rest of his days. This time, though, I was living it all over again. I crouched down and lifted Ansel from the cold stone floor. Then, I looked at Vivienne. "If her devotion runs that deep, let her be buried with him today."

Oakley is a werewolf shifter who met her fated mate only to find out that he was cheating on her the entire time they were together with her half sister. She leaves the pack and goes to her mother’s birth pack. Her wolf is a larger than normal wolf and is special but Oakley has yet to find out how. While in the new pack she discovers she has a second chance mate but is unsure if she can handle it after what happened with her first mate.

I was the person Henry Johnson, the head of the San Nello mafia, loved more than anyone else. He loved me with absolute devotion. During our three years of marriage, he spoiled me endlessly and treated me like a princess. Yet this same man, who claimed to love me so deeply, divorced me three times, each time for the sake of his childhood sweetheart. The first time, intimate photos of them at the airport went viral. That very night, he placed the divorce papers in front of me. "Selena," he said, "Melanie's father once saved my life. I can't allow her to be condemned as a homewrecker. Let's divorce for now. Once this storm passes, we'll remarry." With my heart in pieces, I signed the papers and prepared to leave. However, at the airport, Henry stopped me. He broke down in front of me and begged, "I've already taken care of the media. Melanie has gone abroad again. I've repaid everything I owed her family. Please don't leave. Let's get married again." His tearful pleas softened my resolve. That was the first time I forgave him. The second time, he came to me looking utterly worn out. "Melanie was implicated by her boyfriend and ended up in prison," he said. "I need to bail her out as her spouse. Once she's free, we'll remarry right away." I believed him. That time, he kept his promise. He returned and remarried me. The third time, he lowered his head and hesitated, unable to look me in the eye. "Melanie is about to give birth," he said. "An unwed pregnancy would destroy her modeling career. I have to help her. This will be the last time. Once the child is settled, we'll remarry. I promise this will never happen again." I looked at him for a long time. In the end, I answered softly, "Okay." However, on the day we were meant to register our marriage again, I never appeared. Any love I still had was worn away bit by bit. In the end, I left for good, taking with me not only a broken heart, but also the unborn heir he would never know.

The first year after Carter’s death, I was finally ready to try starting a new relationship. However, one quiet night, a he-wolf suddenly burst into my room. Without a word, he undid my clothes and pinned me to the bed…