Novel & Cerita Smiling Dog

The day my husband, Eric Johnson, brought his foster sister home from overseas, he gave her our master bedroom. "Yvonne just lost her husband. She's heartbroken, so I want her to feel comfortable," he said. I nodded obediently. "Okay." The next day was my birthday. Yvonne said she was feeling down and wanted her brother, Eric, to go stargazing with her. Eric turned to me and said, "She really needs me right now. I'll celebrate your birthday with you later." Still, I smiled and nodded. "Okay." Ten years of marriage and I was ready to walk away from it all… Because I have lived this life once already. In my previous life, I made the mistake of asking Eric to stay with me on my birthday. I did not let him go stargazing with Yvonne. She ended up falling into the water in her sorrow and was rushed to the hospital. After that, Eric shoved my head into a bathtub and held me there until I drowned. In this second life, when Eric handed me the divorce papers and said, "I’m only marrying Yvonne to help her revoke her foreign citizenship and restore her citizenship here. Once it's done, we'll remarry." I did not hesitate. I signed my name without a second thought. By the time he came looking for me again, I was already sitting on his archenemy's lap, smiling like a flower in full bloom.

21 years old Soraya Rivera has spent her entire life fighting for everything she has. A full scholarship is her only ticket to a better future, and with her father's mounting medical bills threatening to bury her family, failure isn't an option. So when a heated confrontation at a nightclub turns into a public scandal, she's one mistake away from losing everything she's worked for. Declan Shaw has his own future on the line. At twenty-five, he's hockey's golden boy the league's favorite player and captain of the ice. But after one reckless night involving Soraya, lands him in trouble with sponsors and team management, he's given an impossible ultimatum: clean up his image or kiss his career goodbye. The solution? A legally binding marriage. For 365 days. One year of pretending they're happily in love. One year of living together, smiling for cameras, and convincing the world their relationship is real. If they fail, Declan loses the career he's sacrificed everything for. If Soraya refuses, she loses her scholarship and the chance to help save her father. The rules should be simple: no feelings, no complications, and absolutely no falling in love. But when hatred starts feeling dangerously close to attraction, and every stolen glance blurs the line between fake and real, Soraya and Declan discover that surviving 365 days together may be the easiest part. Because the biggest risk isn't losing everything. It's losing their hearts to the one person they swore they'd never love.

Georgia Brooks, the notorious, troublesome tomboy is the caretaker of Clark Brown, the mysterious, cold man who is an undercover billionaire. Georgia's motive is to uncover him and just make him happy. But what when secrets are revealed and the badass tomboy is close to tears? Join them on this rocky road of adventures which includes their occasional fights and revenge, stolen kisses, trip to a circus, journey to England, landing in jail and much more! Excerpt from a chapter : His lips curled in disdain and just when he was about to unwrap the towel, I quickly turned around showing my back to him. What the fucking hell? What if I saw his thing? "Don't you care? Like honestly, couldn't you just order like your usual self to get the hell out of your bedroom or just . . . turn around for you to change? You could have at least warned me that you were freeing your willy, I would have closed my eyes!" I rambled and felt myself feeling all jittery again. He didn't reply and I could mentally picture him scoffing or rolling his pretty eyes. A part of me which never saw a grown man's buddy down there was curious as to how it looked. Was it really long and monstrous like a huge sausage they describe in erotic scenes? Was it soft like a banana or hard like a radish? Was is it like spring that when you poke it, it would go wagging like a dog's tail? A teeny little peek would do no harm . . .

On the day I went to the city hall with my girlfriend to get married, her first love, Martin Lennox, suddenly appeared. “Teddy’s getting old, and his kidneys are failing. The vet said he only has a few days left. You should pay him a visit.” Teddy was the dog they got together. I knew about it, so I said kindly, “After Olivia and I get married, I’ll send both of you to the vet.” However, Martin suddenly started crying. “Olivia, you know dogs can’t speak, but he kept crying when he looked at your photo. He really wants to see you.” Olivia also started crying. She flung my hand away and apologized before she left with Martin. She disappeared for three days. On the fourth day, she returned home and apologized to me. Then, she dragged me to the city hall. Unexpectedly, Martin showed up with Teddy’s dead body. “Olivia, is your marriage really that important that you left Teddy alone at the vet? He’s dead now, and you didn’t manage to accompany him before he crossed the rainbow bridge!” Olivia cried as she looked at me. “I’ll come back to you after I bury Teddy, alright? Wait for me.” I gestured. “Just go, we can have our wedding ceremony first before we get our marriage certificate.” On the day of our wedding, Olivia was waiting happily for me at home in her wedding dress. However, she did not know that I was not planning on turning up.

Three years after I died, my mother sent me twenty dollars for living expenses. Three years before that—the first time I ever asked my family for money—she said to me, offhand, "Sometimes I think you're just putting on an act. What's so unsanitary about a thirty-cent boxed meal? And why can't you wear a five-dollar down jacket? Face it, you're just more high-maintenance than your little brother." Later, when I needed twenty dollars to buy some cheap medicine for my stomachache, she blocked me immediately and cut off all contact—along with every relative we had. "Don't contact me anymore. I'm clearly not a good mother. I can't afford to give my son a life of luxury." But for my younger brother, who had just started high school, she spared no expense—renting him a three-bedroom apartment. Even the family dog got its own room. In the end, on the day my brother became the top scorer in the state, she finally remembered me. She took me off her block list and transferred twenty dollars. "It's only twenty dollars. Was it really worth giving your family the silent treatment for three whole years?" What she never knew was this— On the night my stomach ruptured, three years ago, I had already died. I couldn't afford to go to the hospital. I froze to death in the snow.

Married for five years, Lorenzo, the underboss of the Moretti family, had never been without a woman. He found my “noble lady” posture stiff and vanilla. Dancers from Trinacria, headliners from the city’s nightclubs, his rotating stream of mistresses could fill the entire estate. Yet whenever I was displeased, whether it was throwing drinks or kicking someone out, Lorenzo never intervened. He’d only lit his cigar with casual amusement and said, “Relax. It’s just fun. No one can touch your position.” Then a clumsy, naive maid appeared. Unlike the others, she wasn’t flashy. However, when Lorenzo returned, bloodied, she’d hand him a cup of warm tea, her eyes red-rimmed. She watched him with pure admiration while he handled the family business. Lorenzo said the estate felt cold and lifeless except for her. He said only when she panicked did he feel like a hero being needed, rather than just a husband in a political marriage. Until she accidentally broke an antique vase left by my mother… Before I could react, Lorenzo stepped in and shielded her trembling form, glaring at me as if I were the enemy. “What’s wrong with you? If you’re crazy, go see a shrink. Don’t scare her like a rabid dog!” Watching his careful, protective expression, I smiled. I guess it was time for the Moretti family underboss to be replaced.

The moment I was born, my mother implanted a chip in my brain and began shaping me into her idea of a perfect daughter. She blocked my sense of hunger so I would only have simple meals daily to maintain the "ideal" figure. She erased my ability to feel pain so she could inject me with endless chemicals to keep my skin smooth and flawless. She tampered with my senses, deleting every trace of negative emotion from my mind, all so I could remain eternally innocent. I couldn't tell right from wrong. I didn't know sadness or anger. I only knew how to smile. When the neighbor's dog died, I smiled and was scolded harshly for being heartless. When my classmates bullied me, I smiled and became the class freak. When my grandfather passed away, I smiled again, and my relatives cursed me for being soulless. Eventually, my father couldn't take it anymore. He left us. Mom, however, didn't seem to care. "They don't understand," she told me. "Everything I've done is for your own good. One day, you'll thank me." … On my 18th birthday, she planned a grand live broadcast, ready to show the world her perfect creation. She never knew that the day before her grand broadcast, I had already lost myself completely. By then, I was no longer human. I had become a machine.

After my wife Janine Cartwood's 99th argument with her lover, she came to me and complained, "Can't you go down on your knees and apologize to him? He wouldn't have gotten mad at me if you hadn't shown up in front of him with our son." Janine smiled and spoke about this as if it were a joke, but I knew she was serious. I had rejected her once before, but she retaliated by getting rid of my dog and refusing to pay for my mother's medical fees. I took it all in my stride and tolerated her antics because I wanted to give our son a complete home. This continued until yesterday, when she purposely fed our son, Jesse Langdon, medicine that caused him to go into shock in my arms. I lost all hope for her when that happened. Janine thought I was unwilling when she saw me keeping silent. She was about to berate me when I handed her our divorce papers and said softly, "He must have gotten sick of seeing me kneel. Let's just coax him by getting a divorce. I bet that will cheer him up even more." She raised her eyebrows in surprise, and I could see the glee in her eyes. "You're getting better at this. You're even taking the initiative to find ways to make me happy." I did not reply and only smiled understandingly. It was because I was not trying to make her happy. I just did not want her anymore.

AUTUMN'S POV His voice was low when he said it — “You shouldn’t be here, Autumn.” “Then stop looking at me like that,” I fired back. He didn’t blink. “Like what?” “Like you’re about to do something you’ll regret.” He stepped closer, close enough for me to feel the heat off him. “I already regret it.” And then he kissed me. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was the kind of kiss that felt like a secret we’d never escape from. The next morning, my mom came home glowing, flashing a ring. And beside her stood him. The same man who kissed me like I belonged to him. “Autumn,” she said, smiling proudly. “Meet your new stepbrother.” Everything inside me froze — except his gaze. He didn’t even flinch. Just stared, silent, daring me to say something. Now, we live under the same roof. Same walls. Same tension that hums like electricity every time we’re alone. He says it’s wrong. He swears he’s trying to stop. But when the house goes quiet, and his voice finds me in the dark, he whispers, “Tell me to leave, and I will.” I never do. Because this isn’t just attraction — it’s an obsession neither of us can break. And when the truth finally blows open, someone’s going to burn for it.

At my lowest point that year, I took a job at a pet shop, where I was assigned to take care of a "gentle-tempered" silver-white Alaskan Malamute. Every time I went near him, he would lift his head and bury his nose against my chest, breathing in low, rough sounds that felt disturbingly like a grown man holding himself back. Especially when my hand brushed through his beautiful fur, his body would heat up, and his eyes would darken and burn with unmistakable possessiveness. Thinking he was sick, I rushed to find the shop owner. The owner gave me a long, meaningful glance. "He's not sick. But he only acts like this with you. "You need to bathe him, give him a full-body massage, and try giving him a little kiss. Otherwise, he might lose control." I had my doubts about the whole thing, but I didn't really have a choice. I went along with it anyway. Eventually, I told the friend who had gotten me this job everything that had been happening. After she heard me out, she went quiet for a second. Then, she looked at me strangely and said, "Have you ever thought that maybe you're not looking after a dog at all? What if he's actually a werewolf who can take human form, and he's in heat, using pheromones to mess with you because he wants to… You know, sleep with you?"