Sunny Parappa Novels & Stories

When the nurse pulled the IV needle out of the back of my hand, her gaze was filled with pity. “Mr. Young, the heart meant for your transplant was transferred at the last minute. It was sent to the VIP ward on the seventh floor. It’s a shame, but all your pre-operation prep has gone to waste.” Marcus Stewart was warded on the seventh floor. He was the frail young man my sister brought home. Ten minutes ago, Marcus suddenly had terrible chest pain. My usually strong mother burst into tears. My stoic father slammed the table in front of every expert in the hospital, then decided to give Marcus the heart I had been waiting three years for. It was supposed to save my life. I hurried to the end of the corridor, but the green operating light had already come on. Clutching the twisting pain in my chest, I leaned against the ice-cold wall and slid to the floor. There was no need to wait anymore. My heart failure was terminal. The doctor said I would not last the next few days. The mechanical voice sounded in my head. [Master, your vital signs are rapidly deteriorating. If you terminate this body and leave this world now, you still have a chance at a new life. Would you like to proceed?] I looked at the faint grey hue of death tinging my fingertips. “...Yes.”

"Mm… Slow down, honey... You'll wake Julie..." Chasing a thrill, my best friend, Natalie Turner, and her husband, Scott Turner, were actually making love right in front of me. Their hushed, breathy sounds filled the room, intimate and unmistakable. My face burned the entire time, heat rushing straight to my ears. I barely dared to breathe as I froze in place, waiting until Natalie finally drifted into unconscious sleep. And then, the very next second, Scott climbed onto me.

I went to my boyfriend's home with him to celebrate New Year's. On the sleeper train heading to meet my boyfriend's parents for the New Year, I decided to spice things up. After the lights went out late at night, I crept over to his bunk, climbed on top of him before he could react, and kissed him hard. Something felt a little off, but I was too caught up in the heat of the moment to care. Halfway through, though, I realized something wasn't right. The size was completely wrong—this wasn't my boyfriend.

On the day Daisy Hawthorn got married to Dario Verdant, everyone in Palermo waited for her to make a fool of herself. The Verdant family was one of the most feared mafia families in Sicily, and Dario was the only son of the old Don. Daisy, meanwhile, was just an orphan with nothing to her name. The only reason she was even associated with the Verdant family was that her late father had once saved the old Don's life during a conflict years ago. At the wedding, Dario slipped an antique diamond ring onto her finger in front of everyone. Tears filled his eyes as he swore, "Daisy, I love you. You're the only woman I'll ever love." Daisy believed him. After they got married, Dario became the new Don of the Verdant family, yet he still treated Daisy like she was the center of his world. If she coughed in the middle of the night, he would get up instantly and bring her water himself. If she casually mentioned craving seafood paella, it would appear on the dining table the very next day. Everyone said Dario loved Daisy. Daisy believed that too. It wasn't until one afternoon in May, when she overheard something outside the office of their private doctor, Martin Lawrence. "Don Verdant, birth control pills can't be taken long-term. They're damaging her body. The latest test results are back. Donna Verdant already has a hormonal imbalance. If this continues, she could become permanently infertile!" Martin exclaimed. Daisy froze in place. After a brief silence, she heard Dario's voice. "So what if she becomes infertile? I never planned on letting her have children anyway," he said nonchalantly.

When I arrived at my wedding in my bridal gown, I found an octagonal fighting ring set up in the center of the stage. My fiance, Derek Hale, was holding the hand of his "girl bro," Chloe Shaw. With a smile, he handed me a pair of boxing gloves and explained, "Vivian, this is a tradition from my hometown. The bride has to get into the ring and wrestle one of the groomsmen for good luck. I asked Chloe to go up. Just play along for a minute." Looking at Chloe, who was always acting frail and sickly, I did not think much of it and stepped straight into the ring. But the next second, she threw an extremely professional spinning kick and knocked me unconscious with a severe concussion on the spot. When I woke up, I was paralyzed in a hospital bed. Derek stood there holding Chloe's hand and said to me, "Our relatives and friends gave us so much wedding money. The wedding can't go on without a bride. Chloe is willing to take care of me in your place. You're so kind, Vivian. You won't mind, right?" Under the torture of humiliation and severe depression, I pushed my wheelchair off the rooftop of our wedding home. When I opened my eyes again, I was back one month before the wedding. I turned around and knocked on the door of a national-level kickboxing champion training base. "Coach, if I trained for a month, can I punch someone's head open?"

After the SAT, I come across a post online. Someone posts, "If you could make a choice all over again, which major would you choose this time?" The comments are filled with people wishing they had chosen a different major. They all have their own regrets. One response stands out from the rest. "I would choose literature. That way, he and I wouldn't have missed out on the four years we should have spent together because of that unwanted baggage." I chuckle and am about to scroll past when I suddenly notice the profile picture and username. They are identical to those of my childhood sweetheart, Winter Andersen. I click into the profile. Everything matches her current account exactly, except that the age is ten years older. My heart sinks to my stomach. This has to be her ten years in the future. No wonder I am the only one celebrating when we are admitted to the same major. No wonder she zones out for so long after seeing my best friend, Simon Brown, receive his acceptance letter from the literature department. It turns out I am the unwanted baggage responsible for so many of her regrets and disappointments. Since that is the case, I quietly press "Accept" on the admission offer written entirely in a foreign language. I shall end this mistake ten years ahead of schedule.

After Cain called off our mate-bonding ceremony for the ninth time—calling it off for the sake of his childhood sweetheart—the Alpha himself came to the Abel family estate to deliver an apology in person. "We are prepared to offer an additional 300kg of frost iron, three hunting territories west of Silvermoon Forest, and nine forges in the pack compound," he announced. "Consider this reparations for the nine broken betrothals." Before his words even faded, Cain's laughter crackled through the phone speaker. "Dad, is she honestly worth that kind of price? I could toss her a half-rotted beast bone soaked in moonlight and she'd still come crawling. You'd be better off funneling those resources into Lina's beast-training arena." The old Alpha ended the call without a second thought. His golden wolf eyes shifted toward me, heavy with visible unease. The gathered wolves stifled their snickers, their throats rippling with suppressed laughter. Every pair of eyes fixed on me, gleaming with anticipation of the show. They all expected me to swallow the humiliation, just as I always had. After all, every wolf in Silvermoon Pack knew the tale: I, the Abel family daughter, had been pining for Cain, the Alpha King's youngest son, for years. Pathetic and devoted. But I'd endured this exact scene eight times before. I was done with it. And more than that, I was done with him. A beat of silence passed. Then I lifted my gaze, searching the crowd until I found the one face Cain despised most: his older brother, Cass. A slow smile curved my lips. "Whoever I claim as my mate inherits the Alpha title," I said. "Does that promise still stand?"

My best friend passed away from postpartum hemorrhage. Ethan said he didn't want his child to grow up without a mother. To repay my best friend for saving my life years ago, I became the child's mother. I gave up my career and ambitions, willingly becoming a full-time housewife. For seven years, I cared for both father and son as if it were my life's mission. Yet, he always remained distant, his tenderness surfacing only in the quiet intensity of late nights. Afterward, he would hand me a few birth control pills. On New Year's Eve, my throat felt strange. I swallowed the pills, only to immediately vomit them all out. Ethan was furious and accused me of harboring ulterior motives. As punishment, he locked me outside on the open balcony in the rain. Our son came running with an umbrella in hand. But he walked past me without a glance and handed it to the housekeeper who was heading out. In that moment, I made up my mind—I would leave.

For four years, Sylvia blindly loved Carl, dreaming of becoming his Luna. But on her 21st birthday, her fated mate rewarded her devotion with a brutal rejection and a dagger coated in wolfsbane, driven into her heart by her best friend. But death wasn't the end. Resurrected by a mysterious drop of Phoenix Blood, Sylvia wakes up exactly one year before her betrayal. This time, she swears to make them pay. However, her perfect revenge plan hits an unexpected snag when her strict father brings pack a guest - Alaric. He is her father’s best friend, ten years her senior, and completely mute. Falling for an older, forbidden guest could get her exiled. But why does his scent trigger the ultimate mate bond? And why does this "mute tutor" project the terrifying, dominant aura of the legendary Lycan King? When her cheating ex comes crawling back, he has no idea that the girl he plans to use is about to become the most powerful Luna Queen in history.

At Moonfang College, the ice rink hides more than just bruises and blades—it conceals betrayal, forbidden love, and the fury of fated mates. Lira Hale never expected her 20th birthday to end in heartbreak. Caught between shattered trust and a twisted pack hierarchy, she finds solace not in her destined mate, but in his exiled older brother—Rylan Grayson, the masked bad boy with a legacy of scars and secrets. He’s cold, brutal, and a former hockey prodigy returning for revenge. She's broken but burning to reclaim her strength. When Rylan forces her into a fake relationship to protect her brother—Moonfang’s Ice Hockey Captain—it starts a chain reaction that threatens to unravel the pack from the inside. On the rink, tensions flare. Off the rink, passions ignite. As old enemies resurface and a deadly tournament approaches, Lira must master not just her emotions—but her wolf. Because in this brutal game of love, legacy, and ice, only the strongest hearts survive. From locker room heat to life-or-death arena battles, Icebound Fates is a shifter romance that slices deep—where the ice is cold, but the love burns hotter.