The Best Novels & Stories

Before the Christmas holidays, the four of us besties from Kingsley City held a vote. We had one question on the table: should Mia Williams be allowed to join our tight-knit friend group? I thought my friends and my boyfriend would vote no, just like me. After all, Mia had ulterior motives. She had repeatedly mocked and provoked me, all while shamelessly flirting with my boyfriend. However, I could not have been more wrong. My childhood friend, Jason Miller, remained calm as he said, “I vote yes. Mia is great in every way. Jenna, your jealousy is getting out of hand.” My best friend, Lily Wilson, immediately backed him up. “Exactly! Jenna, you can’t be so selfish. You don’t get to deci

I did everything to be a good friend, only to be treated as my so-called best friend’s scapegoat. When her husband found cigarette ash in their house, she claimed I was the one smoking. When she snuck off for a private rendezvous with her lover, she told him she was celebrating my birthday. And when she got pregnant, she pinned the blame on me again, declaring I was consumed with jealousy—that I had spiked her drink and hired someone to violate her. Enraged, her husband marched to my doorstep wielding a blade and hacked me to death. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the exact day she had asked me to cover for her affair.

He reached back in and brought out a box which he opened for me to see the largest, juiciest, most decadent chocolate-covered strawberries a girl could imagine. Thinking back on that day, it really ought to have been the best day ever. But there were so many more days to come—word of advice: never sell yourself short on your best day ever. Keep looking for that next best day and living for the future rather than reliving the past as your only good day. I still had a wedding to plan for and a whole life with this adorable, loving, romantic man.

"Yeah. And you know the best thing about it?" "What?" "We won," * * * - - - - - The End - - - - -

Theodore Serena's face filled my phone screen, her nose scrunched up as she held two neckties side by side. "Okay so, followers, help me out here." She turned both ties toward the camera. "The blue one is classic, very Dad, very boring. But the red one," She waggled it. "...says 'I'm a billionaire but I also have a personality.'" I huffed a quiet laugh. The red tie was hideous. Something told me she would go for that anyway.

"This Sacred Ring is a gift from Fenryr to me. It is a symbol of my status and the authority conferred upon me. "I, Leah Blackwell, am the Luna Queen of Lunholm. I hereby formally request a retrial for the murder of Cain from three years ago, for I am not the murderer! Someone else is!"

“It’s not that simple, Bianca. You left. I’m trying to make the best of it.” She laughed softly, taking a sip of wine. “The best of it? They’re marrying you off to Lorenzo Valenti. The man who is as terrible as they come. You’re not making the best of anything. You’re letting them sell you.” The table went quiet. Father’s eyes narrowed. Dante shifted uncomfortably. Marco and Enzo watched closely. Killian stood behind Dante, his face still blank, but I felt the tension rolling off him. Bianca kept going, voice sweet but poisonous. “At least I got out before they locked me in. You’re still here play

When I got home, Tristan was in the kitchen cooking. He looked up when I walked in and smiled. “You’re back? How was the trip?” “It went well.” I changed my shoes, set my suitcase aside, and walked over to him, glancing into the pot. It was my favorite pork ribs. “What’s the occasion?” I asked with a smile. “I missed you.” He turned and kissed my forehead. The second his lips touched my skin, my stomach lurched. The same hands that had killed my best friend were cooking for me.

this is one of my best moments. Yes it is. Stapsy ❣️ 🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭 . . . . To be continued

"Shame to waste such a thoughtful gift. My groom and I already have our rings. We're good." With everyone watching, I chucked the sapphire ring straight into the champagne tower. Ignoring the murmurs, I took a ring from the ring bearer and slid it onto my new groom's finger. Emmett Everhart—best man turned husband—was just as good-looking as Malcolm, maybe better. Broader, too. We hadn't talked much before, but something about him felt weirdly familiar. He raised an eyebrow, then quietly slid a ring onto my finger. The room exploded with gasps.