Sharper Image Heating Blanket Novels & Stories

My father suffered a heart attack and collapsed. Emergency treatment required the installation of a cardiac stent. I asked my husband to approve an expense of 10 thousand dollars for the surgery. Cameron Lister, the CEO, refused coldly, "The company and family accounts have been frozen recently because of a major project. Your father has medical insurance, so just use a cost-effective domestic stent for now." He was the sole administrator of all the bank cards in my family. His reply made me sorrowfully realize something. Even though I was a genius architectural designer with an annual income of 600 thousand dollars, I was still not worthy of choosing a better life-saving device for my own father. It was a Twitter post forwarded by a colleague, freshly and gleefully posted by the company intern Wendy. [Cameron is so nice. I just said I liked painting, and he gave me a million dollars to organize an art exhibition. I love him so much!] I looked at my father lying on an extra bed in the hospital corridor, groaning in pain, and then looked at the photo of them sweetly embracing each other. I finally understood that Cameron had perhaps never truly loved me. He had only treated me as a stepping stone for his soaring career, and as a tool for him to exploit without limits. 'If this is what you want, Cameron, then don't blame me for being ruthless,' I said inwardly.

On the eve of our engagement party, my fiancée, Alissa Coleman, gets a marriage certificate with her male best friend, Rhys Pritchard, and celebrates it in the bar. Yet, she acts completely unconcerned about what she has done. She says flippantly, "It was just a joke. We'll get divorced tomorrow. Everyone knows Rhys and I are just best friends." Rhys responds with a provocative grin. "Even though the marriage is just for a day, there's still a special bond between us. Are you all just enjoying the show and won't even prepare a wedding gift for us?" Everyone at the table laughs raucously. "Sure. I happen to have a project in the western suburbs. I'll give it to you as a wedding gift. But there are rules at this table. If you want it, you'll have to win it with a game of dice." I say nothing more and simply take a seat at the table. Meeting Alissa's perplexed frown that is directed at me, I flash her a small smile. "Isn't this supposed to be a dice-rolling game for wedding gifts? I'd like to play too," I said.

Five years after my death, my husband, Lucas Grant, wanted me to take the blame for his lover in a drunk driving incident. He had barged into my house with forged evidence, but realized I was not inside. He had no other choice but to knock on my neighbor’s door. However, my neighbor told him, “Joan? She died a long time ago. “I heard that the family of that case was not happy with the verdict, so they abducted her the day she was released from prison. She was tortured for three days straight!” Lucas did not believe the neighbor. He was furious that I was creating a ridiculous lie just to escape. He yelled angrily at my neighbor. “Don’t think I’ll believe you! Joan must have paid you to lie to me! “Tell her that it’s no use hiding. If she doesn’t contact me in three days, I’ll no longer pay the alimony for that rascal!” However, he did not know that the person that his lover had killed in the drunk driving accident was the very rascal he was referring to.

(Completed) Elysia had everything going for her, a perfect life, a perfect partner, her dream career until the devastating death of her brother. Her life suddenly came to a halt, when she found herself giving up everything to restore her family's name. A marriage to a drug addict Damon Contreras was like poison to her soul. She found herself drifting between fantasy and reality until an affair that placed her in the middle of a generation feud. And to survive she must pair with the devil-her husband.

A week before my bonding ceremony, my younger sister traveled from a distant pack to be my maid of honor. While she was trying on her dress, the phone she had left outside suddenly rang. “Florence, can you answer that for me? I can’t get it right now.” I picked it up, and a male werewolf’s voice came through the line. “Baby, I bought you a gorgeous lingerie set. Tonight is going to be amazing.” I didn’t make a sound. A cold chill sliced straight through me. That voice belonged to none other than my mate-to-be, Dylan Conner.

When Solomon Geyser brings his 100th mistress home, I lock the door of my room and swallow an entire bottle of sleeping pills. As I stare at the wedding portrait on the wall, I feel as though I can hear Solomon's wedding vows echoing in my ear again. "I swear that I will always love Ivana Wesley, and I will never betray her in this lifetime! If I ever go back on my word, I shall die the most horrible death in this world!" I let out a bitter chuckle before smashing the portrait and hurling it to the floor. Then, I pick up my phone and send Solomon a text. "I hate you, Solomon Geyser." But the next thing I know, I receive a text. "Please don't commit suicide, Ivy! I'm Solomon from ten years later!"

Flynn Watson, the actual heir of the Watson family, reported me for cheating during the exams. As I stared at both copies of the test papers with perfect grades and the same answers, I found it difficult to explain what happened. Everyone took Flynn's side. Because of that, I was painted as a cheater, which resulted in my exile from the Watson family. The Watsons went as far as to get me blacklisted from all industries just so they could appease Flynn. I ended up on the streets as a homeless person, where I got tormented incessantly. In a daze, I got hit by a car. I still failed to understand why my test papers would show the same answers as Flynn's even when I was on death's door. When I open my eyes again, I've gotten reborn on the day of the exams. This time, I choose to not write anything on the exam papers at all. I'd like to see just how I can be branded as a cheater now that I'm not given any marks at all.

My girlfriend suddenly told me she had six small beads implanted inside her, blushing as she said it was meant to please me. The next day, I made soup and brought it to her office. To my surprise, I saw her in the arms of my good friend, Henry Somerset. Henry wrapped his arm around her waist, his voice deep. "Baby, you're such a good girl. You really did the implantation as I told. My dumb friend even thought you did it for him. Do you reckon he'll lose his mind if he finds out you and I are getting married soon?" My girlfriend's voice turned cold. "This is nothing more than a marriage of convenience. I'm warning you not to let Chris find out." Henry chuckled and moved his hand downward. "Don't worry. As long as you keep me happy, I won't get Chris into trouble." After hearing all this behind the door, my entire body went cold. Clutching my phone tightly, I recalled my boss saying he would transfer me to a subsidiary company a few days ago. I no longer hesitated and sent him a text. [Boss, I'd like to be transferred to the subsidiary company in Hailborough City in three days.]

During the holidays, my husband, Andrew Hartwell, flakes out on the vacation trip we've planned in advance once again. He has to go on a business trip in another state at the very last minute. But the next moment I know, I stumble upon a social media post uploaded by his assistant, Chloe Miller, that features a photo of them lying on the beach side by side while sunbathing. The caption reads, "Mr. Hartwell watched the moon with me last month, and he's now watching the sea with me on this vacation. Everyone, please help me brainstorm which location he'll have to take me during the next holiday! P.S. That location has to be super pretty for photo-taking sessions. After all, Mr. Hartwell looks super handsome in the photos!" Everyone begins throwing out ideas and suggestions in the comment section. I pause for two seconds before leaving behind a comment calmly. "Why not the city hall? Not only is it a nice place, but you two can also receive a marriage certificate of your own." The colleagues, who know about my marriage with Andrew, are stunned, to say the least. Soon, they quickly text each other and start harboring guesses on the way I'm about to get jealous and start a fight with Andrew. Meanwhile, Andrew is quick to call me on the phone impatiently. "Why are you this petty? What's wrong with me sunbathing with Chloe? Can't I take a break on my business trip? "So what if I skip out on spending time with you? Must you kick up such a ruckus? I want you to delete your comment right now! Otherwise, others might view Chloe differently! "Besides, we're already married! There are so many holidays in the future. I'll just spend time with you on the next one!" As I listen to Andrew's stale excuse, I can't help but scoff. There's no more next time. Once the holiday is over, we'll have already received our divorce decree.

I'm reincarnated a week before the college entrance exam. Despite being the soon-to-be top scorer, I stab my eye with a syringe. In my past life, Marianne Quentin, my boyfriend Lance Russell's childhood friend, reported me for cheating off her during the final mock exam. The teacher compared our papers and found that my essay was identical to hers. He harshly criticized me and warned me not to repeat my mistake. However, Marianne reported me for copying her answers again during the math exam. Once again, my answers were found to be identical to hers. The teacher scolded me for being incorrigible and sent me home to reflect on my actions. I couldn't understand what had happened. Clearly, I'd never cheated, but my answers were nearly identical to Marianne's, whether in writing and language or in math. As the SAT exam loomed over me, I could only suppress my doubts as I stepped into the exam hall. I finished the writing paper and thought I was safe. However, Marianne stepped out and accused me of cheating again. I tried to defend myself, yet the answers on my paper were identical to hers. In the end, I was disqualified, kicked out of the exam hall, and banned from taking any exams in the next two years—just because I "cheated". I succumbed to despair and leaped from the rooftop. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to one week before the SAT.