Superstitious Nine Chapter 1 Novels & Stories

I am Summer Ramey-Carter, surrounded by opulence, beauty, and acclaim. The spotlight is already on me. However, beneath the mask that conceals, what do I so desperately desire that is not yet mine? The answer is Steven Carter’s heart. My husband who both detests and abhors me. When his childhood sweetheart returns, he presents me with our three-year marriage with the divorce papers as a gift. He doesn’t mind that it is our anniversary. “Let’s divorce and end this marriage, Summer.” I am already ready to accept the painful and bitter reality. Nonetheless, faith seems to have another plan when unexpectedly—I lose my memories. Book 1: Divorcing My Ruthless Husband (Chapter 1: Divorce to Chapter 180: The End) Book 2: The Brat Heiress (Chapter 181: Blurb) continuation of second generation.

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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."

Another tail-chasing journey come forth when Etheral’s original pack was slaughtered and she was forced to become a rogue in a place where unruly rebels like rogues live, feral wolves kill, painted wolves wander and other wild animals hunt. And in the hopes of getting away from the never-ending chase, Etheral continues to survive as a lone wolf until a pack is willing enough to accept her. But many packs didn’t open their doors for Etheral for she carries a peculiarity that a pack member shouldn’t have. Etheral is a runt. And all those packs were afraid to take her in. While Etheral runs away from her nightmares chasing her into the rabbit burrows, there is a question, long been lingering in her heart: Will the tail-chasing continue until she falls down deep on her death bed? Or will she find a new home, her mate, and a better ending?

To prepare for a baby, my wife, Daphne Sinclair, suggested we start working out together and keep each other accountable by tracking our daily step counts. While I was away on a two-week business trip, she ranked first on our Fitbit leaderboard every single night. Then one day, my neighbor suddenly sent me a video. The location tag showed it was filmed right in the parking lot beneath my apartment. "Bro, impressive. Your wife's even hired a personal trainer for her workouts now? That Maybach suspension really hits different." In the video, a pink sports bra I had never seen before hung from the driver’s side window. The car rocked rhythmically, accompanied by Daphne's restrained yet excited breathing. I dialed her number. "Where are you?" Her voice turned soft and coy. "On the treadmill, sprinting. Honey, I'm working so hard for our baby." "Really?" I chuckled. "You've worked so hard the entire neighborhood knows about it." Holding the phone, I said slowly, word by word, "Open the door. I'm bringing you a towel."

When I opened my eyes, I found myself supposedly transmigrated to some ancient era. Every morning, before light touched the sky, someone would yank me out of bed to haul trash, chop wood, and do whatever filthiest job needed doing. Somehow, I'd become the lowest-ranked servant in the entire estate. The estate lord's son would climb onto my back and ride me around the courtyard like some pet he was proud to show off. Anyone in the household could hit me, kick me, or shove me aside, and not a single soul would speak up. Five years passed like that, so awful that I almost lost my mind, as if I were living in hell. Then one day, a group of servants cornered me. They didn't bother hiding their intention. The moment I saw their faces, I knew I was in trouble. Fists flew, boots landed, and everything blurred. Just before I passed out, I heard them whispering, "We're going to kill him if we keep this up." "Come on. This place only looks like some old noble estate. It's not an actual one. If he dies here, we're the ones who'll get dragged to court!" "Relax. Ms. Shaw will handle it. The idiot pissed off her childhood sweetheart. Getting tricked into this place is exactly what he deserves." Fear swallowed everything, and the world went dark. When I woke again, the lady of the house had conveniently "returned from visiting her family." The lord threw a grand celebration with tables full of food, wine flowing, and musicians playing like nothing had happened. I carried dishes into the banquet hall and lifted my head. Her face was the same as my wife's, Melissa Shaw. I set the final dish down, stepped closer, and in a voice only she could hear, asked, "Ma'am… are you enjoying your little game?"

Vampires and humans cohabit in peace in the City of Pinephil. Vampires are divided into two factions: shadow vampires are the ones who put mercy on the bottom of their list and scavengers are those who do not take pleasure in killing and clanking a glass of human blood but to celebrate holidays like an ordinary human being. And oftentimes, Scavenger Hut is a place to be if you want a safe celebration between you and your family. But behind these great cuisines stands a two-star Michelin chef who has spent his life savoring every drop of chances to earn his third star and vanquish La Rosa. But how can he do it when his adversary is a coward who crawls to the Elders' feet and hides behind his puppets? But as he continues to walk through a crooked path of vengeance and burning ideas... a passerby will hook his craving.

My husband searches for doctors everywhere to cure me of my stomach cancer. I think he loves me to the core, but after I recover, he takes away my left kidney to save his true love, who's been comatose for two years. He leans down to kiss her as I watch. "She owes you this; I've finally made her repay you. You'll definitely get better after this." What he doesn't know is that I'm already weak from the cancer. I die after he takes my kidney. That's when he goes crazy. He breaks down in tears and screams at the doctors. "Didn't you say she wouldn't die?"

Rosalie Lardner has 19 chances to get Brandon Searle into bed. Succeed just once, and she wins. Fail all 19, and she loses the title of "Mrs. Searle" for good. This is the bet she made with Brandon's stepmother—a deal she signed with complete confidence. But unfortunately, she fails every single time. Eighteen attempts, 18 failures. Now, it all comes down to the 19th try.

When I return home on Christmas Eve, I find a stamp on my wife's body. She looks flustered as she explains that it's a mark every member of her family has. I sneer to myself. She has no idea that I'm a member of the Anti-Cheating Organization. With the help of a system, I can easily track my wife's whereabouts and see what she's done. She's my last target before completing my mission. Once I'm done with her, I'll get ten million dollars.