Sunset Paradise Novels & Stories

In the depths of her despair, her tear-stained eyes desperately tried to focus on the heartless figure before her. "I am not a mere plaything to be possessed," she whispered through trembling lips. "I am a person, with hopes and dreams that extend far beyond the confines of this marriage. I am... am a person with emotions." But he remained unmoved, his gaze cold and unsympathetic. "You are just a contract wife, bound to serve and fulfill my desires," he retorted, devoid of warmth or understanding. "Your aspirations are irrelevant. Your emotions, as long as they don't disrupt this façade of a marriage, are inconsequential..." His callousness only deepened her despair, and he reveled in it, wiping away her tears with cruel satisfaction. "Don't cry, my dear," he sneered. "You have years ahead to drown in regret and endure your punishments. You write about fairytales, don't you? Welcome to your Hell in Paradise, Wife." … ‘How and where had it all started?’ You might ask, dear distinguished reader. Well, it all began with money, as it so often does in Los Angeles, where a sinister game of romance and deceit unfolded when Sirena, a struggling romance author agreed to walk down the aisle with the egoistic heir of the prestigious Crown Dynasty. Three years. That was all or so she thought until an unexpected twist left her torn between the vague feelings she had for the cruel husband and the intense fairytale pang she felt with the mysterious ‘masked man’. Caught in a whirlwind of emotions, amidst lavish parties and extravagant soirées, Sirena finds herself entangled in a treacherous web of love and loyalty, where hidden agendas, forbidden desires, and deceptions threaten to take away her newfound love. Newfound love with whom? Even this Author is itching to find out.

In a world where werewolves rule from the shadows and humans live in carefully crafted ignorance 17 YrAria Blackwood receives an invitation that will shatter everything she believes to be true. Selected for the prestigious Crimson Moon Academy—a place where the "fortunate few" humans are groomed to become mates for powerful werewolf alphas-Aria thinks she's escaping her cursed life as the town outcast. Born with strange silver eyes and raised by a grandmother who speaks in riddles, she's spent years hiding abilities she doesn't understand. But Crimson Moon Academy isn't the paradise promised in the glossy brochures. It's a hunting ground where humans are prey, alphas are predators, and survival means playing a game with rules written in blood. Worse still, Aria catches the attention of the Shadow Princes—four ruthless alpha heirs who rule the academy with iron claws Kaine, the Northern Prince, whose icy demeanor hides a dangerous obsession. Zephyr, the Southern Prince, whose charm is as lethal as his bite. Raven, the Eastern Prince, who sees through every lie and keeps darker secrets. Lysander,the Western Prince, the cruelest of them all, who views humans as toys to break. Each wants to claim her.Each wants to destroy her. And each holds a piece of the puzzle to her true identity—an identity that could either save their world or burn it to ash. As Aria uncovers the academy's bloody secrets and her own forbidden heritage, she realizes she's not just another human lamb led to slaughter. She's something far more dangerous. Something that was never meant to exist. The alphas wanted a prey to hunt.Instead, they awakened a predator But in a game where trusting anyone means death, and her own blood might be the deadliest betrayal of all, Aria must decide: Will she embrace the monster within.

I'm the type who has the urge to overshare my life with him. It can be anything, be it the flowers blooming by the side of the road, the unpleasant coffee I end up having, or the sunset I've seen when I'm on my way home from work. Heck, when I think of Edwin Howell all of a sudden, I can't resist texting him at all. His replies are always short and perfunctory, though I suppose they count as a form of response from him. Hence, over the past six months, I've relied on these cold-sounding yet present replies to give me enough strength to deal with the engagement party, go wedding gown shopping, and choose the wedding venue all by myself. Somehow, I've managed to hang in there till the week before the wedding. But five days before the wedding, I discover an AI program that's installed within Edwin's computer. It can categorize every single sentence that I've sent to Edwin and extract the keywords. Then, it'll draft the most perfunctory responses that will never go wrong. If I miss Edwin, the AI will reply, "Mm-hmm." If I feel aggrieved, the AI will reply, "Got it." When I try to vent my frustrations to Edwin, the AI will reply, "Don't make such a big deal out of it." It turns out that Edwin isn't the one who has been responding to my need to overshare. The thing is, he has been texting another woman nonstop in another private chat. They talk about anything and everything under the sun, from exchanging simple good mornings and good nights to asking, "What are you having for lunch today?" and "Do you wanna go to the beach someday?" Finally, I realize that Edwin isn't the silent type who keeps his love in. If anything, he's the flashy type who will proclaim his love anywhere, anytime. It's just that… his love has never been mine to have. As for me, I've finally made up my mind to stop spending my life waiting for a response that will never come.

Brandon Smith has flown for eight years. I've been with him since the time he was an assistant pilot, all the way until he successfully rose to the ranks as the head pilot. In the year Brandon's busiest with his career, I resign from my job and begin cooking according to his aviation schedule. Just once, I bring up the question, "Can you please show me the sight of being thousands of feet in the air in the near future? Just once, please!" Brandon continues eating from his plate. "The plane is a workplace, not an amusement park for you." I reply, "Okay." Since then, I never bring up that matter in front of him. That is, until I find myself suffering from insomnia one night. That's when I accidentally come across an encrypted photo album tucked away in Brandon's phone. There are over 40 photos in the album, all from his perspective as a pilot. There are seas of clouds, sunsets, double rainbows after a downpour, as well as the Milky Way in the night sky when the plane is over thousands of feet in the sky. Every photo has been sent to the same person with a bear's emoji as their name. The latest photo is a photo of the beautiful evening colors from three days ago. Half of the sun can be seen in the clouds. The caption that comes with the photo says, "Today's sky is still beautiful as ever. When you come over next time, you can take the observation seat on the right. It gives you the best angle of the sky." The bear emoji person responds with a hugging emoji and a short sentence. "Wait for me to go on my break." I put Brandon's phone back where it belongs without changing the password and deleting the album. Once the morning sun is up, I brew myself some coffee as usual before finishing it quietly. Then, I turn on my computer and book myself a flight ticket to Dalco. It's been eight years. Finally, I don't have to chase after Brandon's flight routes and wait for his mealtimes. I no longer have to stay in an empty house while guessing which flight destination he's headed to right now. Since Brandon's sky refuses to tolerate my presence, I shall move my roots elsewhere and watch the sunset on my own.