Sonic Prime Green Hill Novels & Stories

Sloane Carter was a nerdy straight A student by day, erotic club dancer by night. Lexter Gray was the Hockey star and lethally hot billionaire heir. He had one steamy night with the virgin nerd everyone ignored… and made her scream his name. She fell in love. He won the bet. Now she hates him. And he's obsessed with the one girl who won't forgive him. --- "Spread wider for me, Carter." He growled against my throat, breath scorching my skin. My traitorous legs parted, trembling.”This doesn't mean I forgive you, Grey." "Fuck—" His fingers pushed inside me roughly. “That only makes me crave you more." "I hate you—" "Hate me all you want, Carter. Just soak me while you do it.” --- He can't stop wanting her. She can't stop hating him. But when a high-stakes project forces them together, hate burns just as hot as obsession. Bad boy's first regret: He’ll do anything to win her back. She'll do anything to destroy him first. And what happens when the campus king discovers his betrayed virgin dancing for strangers? ⚠️Not your sweet college romance… Heat Level: Explicit. Dark themes. Broken people. Reckless love.

When I was seven months pregnant, my husband, Brandon Adkins, got into a car accident. I held my belly and rushed over as fast as I could, but by the time I got there, his body was already mangled beyond recognition. The shock hit so hard that I started bleeding right there. At my lowest point, it was the eldest son of the Elledges who got me to the hospital and handled Brandon's funeral. Three years later, Brandon showed up out of nowhere, holding his first love. He pulled me into a tight embrace, voice soft as he explained, "I'm sorry. Alanna was terminally ill. Her last wish was to travel the world. I was afraid you wouldn't agree, so I faked my death. "Now that her wish has been fulfilled, we can go back to the way things were." I looked into his affectionate eyes, then shoved him away in disgust. "Too bad for you. In the three years you were gone, I got engaged to someone else."

On New Year’s Eve, my fiancee, Delilah Carrington, left me to freeze to death in subzero snow. As my body went numb, she was wrapped in the military coat I had found for her, curled up in Everett Kingsley’s arms while eating the holiday groceries I had paid for. When I opened my eyes again, I was back before everything fell apart. So when she called—cold, demanding, rattling off a shopping list like I owed her—I hung up, blocked her number, and made my move. I sealed off Blackridge Logistics Hub, the largest logistics hub in the country. Stockpiling supplies? Pointless. Because my coworkers and I had more packages than we could ever open: seafood delicacies, premium cigars, top-shelf liquor, and industrial generators. Hundreds of millions of shipments meant for the holidays were now all mine. Inside a warehouse kept at a steady 26°C, I ate wagyu steak and watched the world collapse through surveillance feeds. I witnessed Delilah’s entire family tear each other apart over half a moldy pack of crackers. I thought I could live like this forever. I was wrong. In the apocalypse, the most dangerous thing isn’t what’s waiting outside. It’s the people who refuse to stop playing the hero.

Mom was a top student at a prestigious school and had always been determined to be the best at everything. She demanded that I learn to walk by seven months, speak fluently by eighteen months, and master all addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division by the age of three. I did all of it. Yet Mom still felt it wasn’t enough. However, when my younger brother, Liam, didn’t speak until he was five, Mom clapped and cheered when he finally did, celebrating his “late-blooming brilliance”. I didn’t think anything of it. Until one day, I was wearing headphones, memorizing Spanish words, and accidentally let the sound leak out, scaring Liam. He clutched his chest and cried, saying his heart hurt. Mom’s eyes turned red as she stormed over and slapped me. Then she grabbed my ear, twisting it a full 360 degrees with all her strength. The pain in my ear was so intense that I lost all feeling, and the fear made me nauseous to the point of vomiting. Still, Mom forced the headphones back on, cranked the volume to the maximum, and locked me in the storage room to reflect. “How could I give birth to such a terrible child? You’re just jealous of Liam. No matter how much I do for you, you’ll never appreciate it! “Love listening to words, huh? Then listen all you want.” But seven days later, when she opened the door, she completely lost it.

When the results were released, my stepbrother, Dylan Anderson, conspired with our class teacher and accused me of cheating. When they presented the two examination papers with the exact steps written out, I was rendered speechless. My biological parents forced me to admit that I cheated to protect Dylan’s reputation. Then, they forcefully sent me to a mental asylum. To cover up the scandal, the Anderson family told everyone that I had gone insane. They left me to suffer alone. I finally escaped, but died tragically in a car accident facilitated by Dylan. When I died, I finally learned that the phrase “blood was thicker than water” held no truth. It was no match to Dylan’s lies. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the past. I was in the examination hall again. I handed in four blank examination papers. I wanted to see how they could accuse me of cheating if I scored zero on all papers.

When I became pregnant, my gravely ill mother mentioned that her final wish was to witness my wedding. My boyfriend, William Jones, finally agrees to marry me after I have been asking for 99 days. Yet, on the wedding day, he never shows up, even though I was waiting in my gown at the hotel the whole day. The truth only emerges when someone found his marriage certificate that he had posted a month earlier on social media. He married his childhood sweetheart, Caroline Ashton, during that time. When my mother learns this, the shock triggers a fatal attack. She passes away despite the doctors' efforts. William sends me a message. "I'm sorry, honey. Caroline twisted her ankle, so I had to take care of her. We'll have our wedding next month, okay? I promise I'll make it up to you this time." … A month later, William prepares a lavish, grand wedding just for me. Dressed in a custom-tailored suit, he waits at the hotel. Yet, all he receives is the report from my abortion procedure. There is only one sentence on the back—"William, this is goodbye forever."

My husband, Theo Hudson, is known for being very frugal. After marrying him, my only hobby is to keep buying branded bags, just to get back at Theo for being extremely stingy with his money. When our son, Oliver Hudson, is seven years old, he has successfully inherited the tendency to be overly frugal from Theo. Both father and son look very out of place in the sprawling manor. I, on the other hand, love wearing anything from the haute couture selection of the season while admiring the heartbroken expressions on Theo's and Oliver's faces when they see the bill. But one day, live comments begin streaking across my eyes. "Wait, this wasteful woman is still splurging on bags? Does she have no idea that her husband's company is about to file for bankruptcy?" "The poor male lead has already worn his T-shirt so many times to the point it's starting to fray just to sustain that vampiric wife of his! Thank goodness the female lead, who's brilliant with finances, is about to enter his life!" "I shall wait for Theo to bring up divorce and kick that useless hag who does nothing but spend his money out of his life! Let's see how she's going to fight for scraps with the strays beneath the bridge in the future!" I'm so shocked that I hurl the limited Hermes bag I was clutching in a random direction. Unfortunately, Theo, who's crouching on the floor while opening the packages for me, and Oliver, who's flattening the boxes by stomping on them, get hit by the bag. Scared out of my wits, I quickly snatch the cardboard from Oliver's hands and hug it tightly. "I… I'm not buying these bags anymore! Let's get a refund! But keep the cardboard boxes and don't sell them! I… I want to use them as makeshift mattresses for when we're about to sleep under the bridge in the future…"

My husband, Mark Thompson, and I went hiking. After eating some wild berries I picked, he was poisoned and died. When I got home, a woman named Sarah Miller and her son, Tommy Miller, showed up at my door. It turned out Mark had given them our house and car. On top of that, he owed them a huge amount of money. I ended up giving them all the savings I had. To care for my sick mother-in-law, Judith Thompson, I worked three jobs. I was surviving on basic meals like bread and butter. After years of exhausting work, I collapsed in the hospital. Judith told the doctors to stop my treatment. Just as I was about to die, Mark walked into the ward with Sarah and Tommy in his arms. He tossed five dollars at me. “Thanks for taking care of my mom all these years.” That was when I realized Mark had faked his death just to be with Sarah and their love child. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day we went hiking together.

I, Darcy Cowell, have been secretly married to my husband, Frank Winston, for seven years. He is the president of a company and has just hired a new assistant. The new assistant, Johanna Scott, is well-behaved and has a voluptuous figure. Scandalous rumors about her and Frank quickly spread throughout the company. Feeling uneasy, I seek Frank out for answers, only to overhear him telling his good friend over the phone. "I'm not interested in her. My wife, Darcy, will always be my only love." I am filled with warmth and relief at those words. A fire suddenly breaks out at the company banquet, and I get crushed under a falling cabinet. Yet, as my life hangs in the balance, Frank turns to run toward Johanna. When I next regain consciousness, I find that I have survived but lost my unborn child forever. This time, I truly lose all faith in Frank. Our child is gone, and I want him gone from my life as well.

I was a wedding planner, and I personally designed my husband's wedding to his mistress. I had been with Victor for five years. Three of those years were swallowed by the pandemic. The remaining two were spent married, pregnant, and raising a child. The wedding I had always dreamed of existed only as "next time" whenever it came out of his mouth, until the day I received a new wedding planning request. The client was a young woman, her eyes curved with laughter, her smile bright and full of hope. "This is the venue my boyfriend chose himself," she said softly. "He insisted the wedding had to be held here." I took the file from her, and my gaze stopped on the venue name. The church in Clairmont. The very church I had mentioned to my husband countless times, the place I had dreamed of more than anything else. I was just about to smile and marvel at how someone in this world shared my taste so perfectly when the groom's name leapt into view. Victor Langford. My fingers froze on the page. Across from me, the girl was still wrapped in her happiness. She added gently, "We've only been together for two months, but he said he wants to give me the best wedding possible." I curved my lips into a smile and fixed my eyes on that familiar face—the man I had lived with for five years. After all this time, the day I planned Victor's wedding had finally arrived. Too bad the bride wasn't me.