Tanjiro Laugh Novels & Stories

“He bought me for one night. I gave him a lifetime. Then he tried to return me." THE CALDWELL POSSESSION SERIES - BOOK ONE Nora Callahan has three rules: Never trust a man in a suit. Never cry where anyone can see. Never, ever fall for someone who owns more than they feel. She breaks all three in one night. Dominic Caldwell is the kind of man who buys things, companies, properties, silence. He's never lost a bid in his life. So when a charity auction goes sideways and Nora ends up on that stage by accident, trembling in a borrowed dress with fire in her eyes, he does what he always does. He bids. He wins. He takes her home. What he doesn't expect is that she won't stay broken. That she'll laugh at his coldness and cry at his cruelty and somehow, somehow make him feel like a man again instead of a machine. What he doesn't expect is that the woman he bought for one charity dinner will become the only thing in his empire he can't put a price on. But Dominic has a secret that could destroy everything. And Nora has a past she's never told anyone. And when both collide on the worst night of their lives the only question left is this: *Can you love someone you ruined? Can you forgive someone who let you fall?* This is not a love story. This is what happens after the love story ends and two broken people have to decide if they're brave enough to begin again.

My fiancé, Luca, dragged me along to a party with his crew. We had barely walked through the door before his boys were hounding him to play "Seven Minutes in Heaven." "Angelina, babe, come join us!" Fiona, Luca’s "best friend" from back home, called out to me with a smirk. I shook my head and slipped onto a barstool, my fingers nervously tracing the rim of my glass. I watched them huddle in a circle, drawing cigar bands with names scribbled on them. Luca drew Fiona. They shared a laugh before disappearing into the storage room behind the bar. "Seven minutes! Starting... now!" someone hollered, followed by a chorus of whistles. But seven minutes came and went. The door stayed shut. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty... I finally stood up, my heart hammering against my ribs, ready to see what was going on. Just then, I heard Luca’s friends whispering in a thick Sicilian dialect. "This American guy... her head is greener than a lemon tree in Palermo and she doesn’t even know it." "I bet Luca and Fiona are having the time of their lives in there right now." "Poor Boston girl. Look at her, sitting there like a loyal little dog. Hilarious." I froze. My blood turned to ice, and the air felt too thin to breathe. Suddenly, the storage room door creaked open. Luca walked out, wiping sweat from his brow, followed closely by Fiona, who was busy smoothing out her rumpled shirt. "Whoa, how was it? Seven minutes in heaven live up to the hype?" someone teased. Luca smirked, his eyes glazed with satisfaction. "Better. I didn't want to leave."

After being pushed down the stairs by my husband's first love, I suffered a difficult labor with our second child and died in a corner of their family's private hospital. Before I died, my six-year-old son cried and begged for his father to save me. The first time, Shawn sneered. "Your mom's gotten smarter, using you to play the victim and trick people." After that, he flung my son's hand away and left heartlessly. The second time, my son told him I was bleeding uncontrollably. Shawn was clearly impatient. "She's being so dramatic, it's just a miscarriage, nothing serious. She's always made mountains out of molehills!" After chasing my son away, he even told the doctors not to care for me. "It's my fault for spoiling her. She'll know what she did wrong once I let her have a hard time for a few days." The last time, my son went to my husband's first love Jasmine, kneeling in front of her and knocking his head on the ground, begging her. Shawn flew into a rage and ordered bodyguards to throw my battered and bruised son out of the hospital room, allowing others to laugh at his misfortune. "If you come bother Jasmine while she's resting again, I'll kick your mom out of our family! She'll never see you again!" My son crawled to my side, leaving behind a long trail of blood. And so, I laid there helplessly as I felt the warmth escape both my son and I. 'Are you happy now, Shawn? You'll never see us again.'

The day before the wedding, I go to the bridal shop to pick up my custom wedding dress. The clerk informs me apologetically, "I'm sorry, Ms. Stone. Yesterday, a woman called Ms. Lovelett came and picked up your dress." My best friend, Sherry Lancelot, suddenly remembers something. "Isn't that the surname of your fiance's secretary? He's so thoughtful. He had your dress picked up in advance for you." But in the next second, Mary Lovelett posts a social media update. In her photo, she is wearing my one-of-a-kind custom wedding dress that is worth hundreds of millions and posing coquettishly in front of the camera. The caption reads, "Zachary is the best boss in the world. I casually said I wanted to take some portraits. He generously bought me a globally limited outfit for a photoshoot so that I can take the photos to my heart's desire!" I look at the post and reply coldly, "That's the wedding dress I personally chose for myself. Since when did it become your photoshoot outfit?" The post is deleted instantly. My fiance, Zachary Everdon, calls me angrily. "What nonsense comment was that? I just lent your stupid dress to Mary for a bit. It's a cheap, one-time thing anyway. I can buy you a dozen more to make up for it." I let out a cold laugh and record the call. Then, I send him a screenshot of the 200 million dollars purchase record. I say, "Sure. Will you pay by check or by direct transfer? Hurry up. Once you pay, we're calling off the engagement."

Before my parents died, they arranged for me to marry Alan Palmer, the powerful but impotent overlord of Northingdale. The day I received the engagement letter, strange floating messages appeared before my eyes. [Don't marry him. He can't have kids, and he's violent!] [If you go through with this, that freak will torture you to death. Run!] [Your childhood sweetheart is your true love. Run away with him!] My childhood sweetheart, Leon Wade, grabbed my hand and looked into my eyes with what seemed like deep affection. "Tiffany, let's run away together. Have your maid take your place and marry Alan. She knows you well. No one will notice." Fooled by the so-called love in his eyes and those floating messages, I chose to go with him in my past life. I could only watch as the maid stole my identity as the heiress of the Glissons, gave Alan a son, and walked away with hundreds of millions of dollars in fortune. In the end, Leon held her in his arms. He tied a huge stone to me, kicked me into the ocean, and said smugly, "From now on, she's Tiffany. As for you, rot at the bottom of the sea forever!" I watched as sharks slowly tore into my body, pain ripping through every inch of me, until only my bones sank into the dark water. After being reborn, I finally understood that those floating messages were fake. They were carefully planted traps designed by Leon. Now, facing him and his pleas for me to run away, I let out a cold laugh and ignored the floating messages. "I'm not some helpless maiden. I'm marrying Alan."

Whispers in the underworld mentioned that Jason Marino, heir to the Family with its hands in the cross-continental arms trade, supposedly loved women with slim waists. Since his recent return to the country, his eyes had landed on Sonia Stewart—sworn sister to my fiancé, Andy Black. When Andy found out, he disappeared for three whole days. I finally tracked him down in the Family's club, only to overhear a conversation that shattered my world. "I'm not just going to stand by and watch Sonia marry that playboy Jason," Andy was telling his lieutenant. "On the wedding day, you need to swap Sonia's wedding car with Leona's. No one must find out!" His lieutenant thumped his chest, swearing, "No problem, boss! I'll get it done. But... What about your fiancee, Leona?" Andy let out a confident laugh, as if he were in control of everything. "I'm the Don's hand-picked Consigliere. Jason knows Leona belongs to me, so he won't lay a finger on her. Once I've slept with Sonia, he'll have to give up on her. After that, we'll just send someone to pick Leona up. She won't suspect a thing. Instead, she'll be scared and trembling… Pathetic but adorable nonetheless. She'll come running right back to my arms!" Every word was like a bullet leaving holes in my heart, every tone tearing it apart. I stumbled away as fast as I could, praying they wouldn't hear the sound of my heart breaking. When Andy tried to pick me up according to his plan later on, he broke down.

Renko (Ren) Watson was your average high school senior. She had good grades, was best friends with Ashlyn, and in a relationship with Vance, who was one of the star basketball players. Their relationship was more off than on most days. She was trying to get her last year of high school all in order with less partying and more time studying. Of course, not wanting to be the party pooper, and also wanting to make sure that Vance didn’t do anything to jeopardize their relationship once again, she agreed to one last event. One final night that was supposed to be fun-filled, one last night that changed the course of everything. Max Hemming was a future alpha. His father, the appointed alpha of the pack of shifters that controlled thousands of acres in the Appalachian Mountains, taught him since the day he could walk of how to take control of a situation, never take shit from anyone, even your own mate…that was until Ren entered the picture. Max had one more year before claiming his mate became the main priority, the only thing was no female, in the pack or at school, had sparked any type of interest. With his good looks and charm, he could have anyone he wanted, and in most instances, he did, but no one ever filled that void his wolf felt without having a mate. That was until Renko came along. She filled that space that he always had. She made him laugh, cry, feel all the things he never thought he’d ever feel again…but most of all she made him love. Max’s only problem now was getting Renko to feel the same way.

"...hot..." She murmured softly. "I feel hot..." "Why did you come here?" Tristan probed, not attempting to pull her body, which was still clinging to him away. "Heh... who are you?" She questioned with keen interest. That question made him pause as he regarded her face. He didn't know if it was the drug or if she was just drunk. "Who do you think I am?" She held her chin, looking him over and remarked, "Gorgeous." She squealed, "Come, let me read your fortune." "Fortune?" Tristan's gaze flicked to her face, which was red and flushed. Raven nodded quickly, grabbed his palm, and seriously began to trail her fingers over it. It looked like she was just scribbling nonsense with her finger, and a small throaty laugh escaped his lips at the sight. "Stop laughing." She looked up and admonished him, the look on her face serious. Tristan chuckled and nodded - he actually liked this version of her more. She suddenly stopped playing with his palm and exclaimed excitedly, clapping her palms together. "I know, I know now. I know what you need." Tristan gazed at her. "What is that?" "Me." She patted her chest, a candid look on her face. "You need me." Tristan's lips twitched imperceptibly. Was this a side effect of the drug? *** When Raven was rejected by her fated mate, leaving her in despair, she had a one night stand with a stranger. Little did she know that he was the country's most influential alpha.What will she do when the supposed powerful man keeps clinging to her and insists she takes responsibility after a one night stand?

Escaping from her abusive husband with nothing but the clothes on her back, a beaten and bruised Laura shows up on the doorstep of her estranged older brother - and President of a well-known motorcycle club, Jake Wilson. But before she can even make it into the house, she runs into a tall, dark, deep well of trouble - her brother's best friend and second in command, Talon Nash. *********** He stepped closer, closing the gap between us in one stride. His hands found my hips, pulling me into him with a firm but gentle grip. The sawdust clinging to his skin mingled with the scents of his sweat and cologne, and I breathed it in, reveling in it. “Your reward,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear, “is me not dragging you upstairs and ruining you right now in front of all these guys.” My breath hitched, and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, but I smirked. I wasn’t about to let him win this one. “No fair. That’s more of a punishment than a reward,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “I want a refund.” “NOT getting f*cked in front of the prospects is a punishment?” He chuckled, a deep rumbling sound that vibrated through me. “Fine,” he added, his lips curling into a wicked grin. “Careful what you wish for, angel.” Before I could respond, he bent down and hoisted me up over his shoulder like a sack of flour. I let out a startled laugh, my hands instinctively gripping the back of his jeans. The prospects paused their work, watching with amused smirks as Talon carried me toward the stairs. “Talon!” I protested, though my laughter betrayed me. “Put me down!”

While exploring the wilderness, my younger sister—Charlotte Forrester—and I accidentally stumble onto the territory of supernatural beings. She grabs the hand of the noble, elegant male elf, her posture coy and intimate. Before I can react, a wolfman with a scar on his face wraps his arm around my waist and leads me away. Charlotte, who judges others by appearance, is unaware that the male elf—Elwin Duskwood—belongs to a tribe of half-elves. Half-elves are beautiful but possess no real capabilities. They are considered a marginalized group among elves and struggle to make ends meet every day. On the other hand, the wolfman—Morgan Nightshade—is a mid-tier wolf tribe's Highlord. After giving birth to an extremely rare silver wolf for him, I have become the Highlady of the tribe. I'm respected by everyone in the tribe and feast on delicacies every day. Meanwhile, Charlotte becomes emaciated after suffering from starvation for several months. When she sees how plump I am, she goes insane from jealousy. While the wolf tribe is entertaining guests at a banquet, she uses poison to kill me. The next time I open my eyes, Charlotte and I are back at the moment we first entered the supernatural beings' territory by mistake. Charlotte immediately hugs Morgan by the waist and kisses him. She showers him with flattery about his strength, calling him the man of her dreams. I can't help but laugh out loud. Silly Charlotte. As a wolfman, Morgan is ill-tempered, and he easily loses control of his emotions. He also becomes even more bloodthirsty after transforming. It's not all sunshine and rainbows being his mate. But I never imagined the elves could be so… in that regard.