Social Intelligence Novels & Stories

Can true love be found at age 37? Does age difference matter? Do hot guys really fall for plus size girls? Do things exist that we don't know about? Right after her divorce, and needing a change of scenery, Tamara moves to Canada to work for her best friend. There she meets Dax, a guy who's not only younger than her but an actor. However, he has a much bigger secret. Will they be able to overcome the age difference, her past, his social status, her insecurities, and his big secret of being a real werewolf? And will he be able to keep her safe from the dangers of his world? From the she wolf intent on making Dax hers at any cost? You'll need to read to find out! 18+ only! Erotic scenes!

Three years of marriage, and I'd become known in our social circle as the ultimate doormat. My husband staying out all night, his silent treatment, bringing his first love home to flaunt in my face—through it all, I'd smile and make him hangover soup, keeping the house spotless. Everyone thought I loved him to the point of madness. Even he believed it. Until the day of the divorce, when he begged me with tears in his eyes not to leave—and then watched "me" collapse rigid to the floor after a power outage, revealing a charging port on the back of my neck. He lost his mind. Meanwhile, the real me was lying on a beach in the Maldives, running my fingers through the hair of a gorgeous twenty-something with a six-pack, cheerfully pressing the "factory reset" button.

Marnie Jones is an ordinary 11th grader. Her only intentions are to get good grades and save money for college with her babysitting job. Everything is going to plan. Until she gets a job babysitting the high school bad boy, Zeke Blakely. The two come from complete different social groups, and Marnie automatically hates Zeke and his big ego and cocky attitude. He's a player. He's dangerous. He's reckless. She's safe with an overthinking problem. As the two are seen hanging around school together, attention gets drawn to Marnie. Which she hates. But she also catches the eye of a handsome jock, too. And why, you ask, does a 17 year old boy need a babysitter? You'll have to read to find out. WARNING: contains vulgar language and mature scenes.

Ava Marino, a girl filled with passion to make enough money for her brother's treatment back in Italy, travels to Monaco to find the perfect job—anything that would pay her enough for her to survive. On a cold night, she comes in contact with a man known for being ruthless, rich, and handsome. They meet, and an arrangement is made almost immediately that would satisfy both ends. As she agrees to be this man’s bride for two years for a sum of money that would not only set her up for life back in Italy but also take care of her brother's health for the rest of his life, grudgingly she agrees to this arrangement, pulling her into his world of old money, danger, social class, revenge, and even a budding romance. She has to choose between remaining in this new world or leaving it all behind to start anew.

In the seventh year of our marriage, I caught Nolan Garrison kissing his secretary at a bar. He called me shortly after I walked away. "It was just a friendly kiss! What’s with the attitude?" he snapped through the phone. I could hear his friends in the background teasing him and saying that I would be madly jealous while pleading for him not to leave me tonight as usual. Before hanging up, Nolan warned me that he wouldn’t come home if I didn’t apologize. However, I wasn’t bothered by his threat. I didn’t care if he decided to come home or get a divorce. Three minutes later, I posted an update on my social media: “Prioritize self-love and grant others the freedom they seek.”

On Benedict Bradford’s birthday, he posted a link on social media with a taunting offer: [$1.99 buys you a prank—target: Sansa Stormcloud.] So when I arrived at his party, the guests drenched me in water, hurled glasses, smashed cake in my face, and shoved me down the stairs. Benedict sneered as he stood over me, arm slung around Lina Kipling. “You think you’re fit to marry into the Bradfords? Pathetic. “You’re not even in Lina’s league. You’re worth nothing more than a couple of dollars!” I picked myself up, dusted off my dress, and handed him an invitation. “You know, Benedict, the Bradfords have another heir. “And shortly afterwards, you’ll address me respectfully as your sister-in-law.”

To help my surgeon husband with his erectile dysfunction, I made an appointment with an expert six months in advance. But as the day approached, Isiah Coleman canceled it without explanation. Just as I was about to call him to demand answers, I spotted a post from his female friend on her social media. My usually stoic husband was beaming as he wrapped his arms around her. The caption read: [Only I can cure your illness.] What struck me, though, was the telltale bulge in his pants in the photo—a reaction I'd never seen from him with me. With a cold laugh, I liked the post and left a comment: [What a miracle worker!] The post exploded, with everyone speculating whether I'd confront the mistress. But what awaited him after the holiday was our freshly printed divorce certificate.

"I want to feel you inside me, Edward..." ~ Edward Harrington, the high-profile social elite and CEO of Harrington Group of Companies, thought that his relationship with his girlfriend was flawless until one fateful night—he caught his girlfriend fvcking with another man. To his surprise, the man his girlfriend was with in bed was his best friend. They both confessed to being in a relationship for three years, overlapping their five-year relationship. Drunk and wasted, he stumbled alone to La Cresta, a high-end resort he had originally planned as a surprise vacation for his girlfriend for their 5th anniversary. Unfortunately, it turned into his escape from the pain he felt after being betrayed by the two important people in his life. By fate, he encountered Shiela Lockheart, a feisty provincial woman with a goddess face and innocent eyes—the most beautiful woman in La Cresta.

Connor Lockwood abandons me at the hospital's entrance even though I'm bleeding in the middle of my pregnancy. He insists on sending his client, a divorcée, home. The blood flows down my legs, but he hurries off without another look back. He should've been at the hospital and by my side, but instead, I see him in his client's social media update. It's captioned, "Thank goodness for my wonderful lawyer. Do you know who gets to have hangover soup when they're drunk? Me!" I spend the rest of the night wide awake. The following morning, I calmly dial a number. "Dad, I've made up my mind. I'll return home in three days to take over the company."

When the new intern, Felix Madden, hears that I'm going back to my hometown for the Thanksgiving weekend and won't be home in my fully paid-off luxury lakeview apartment, he goes out of his way to cozy up to me. "Come on, Carl. Your place is going to be empty anyway. Why not let my parents stay there for a few days during the holiday? It'll save them the cost of paying for a hotel," Felix says. Worried that my belongings might be tampered with, I politely turn him down. His expression darkens slightly, and he mutters under his breath, "Fine. If you won't lend it to me, I'll find my own way." I don't think much of it at the time. Then, on the first day of the holiday, the property management company sends me a message. They inform me that a group of strangers has entered my building using my access code and appear to be heading to my unit. My heart sinks to my stomach. Something is very wrong. I've only ever shared my access code with my closest family members. There is no way an outsider could know it. The next thing I see is Felix's social media post. The photo shows him and his entire family relaxing in my apartment. The caption reads, "Spending Thanksgiving in a luxury lakeview apartment. Life is good. If you work hard enough, you can enjoy this kind of lifestyle too." Not once does he mention that the apartment belongs to me. Instead, he deliberately makes it look like he owns the property himself. Quietly, I save every piece of evidence. I save the security camera footage and make screenshots of his social media posts. I don't throw them out, nor do I expose them—I simply wait. By the final day of the holiday, they've thoroughly enjoyed themselves and start packing up without a care in the world. As they prepare to leave, they are dumbfounded.