Time To Get Divorced Novels & Stories

My husband promises to go to my hometown with me for the New Year holidays this year after I go to his. But before the trip to my hometown is due, he suddenly tells me he doesn't want to go anymore. I argue with him about this, and he pummels me with a bat. Meanwhile, his family eggs him on, telling him to kill me. Intense pain shoots through me as the blows land. I try my best to fight back, but I can't win against the majority. As the sky darkens, everyone heads home for dinner after giving me a good beating. When I regain consciousness in a corner of the garden, I see sense.

I made a deal with Sonia Quindt—the billionaire CEO. After I'd proposed to her ninety-nine freaking times, she swore she'd finally show up for the hundredth. Spoiler: she didn't. She was out there at some concert with her boy toy. And, of course, someone caught them on livestream. Big kiss. Big viral moment. Meanwhile, my face was plastered all over the internet too—lonely guy number one, waiting for a bride who never existed. Everyone online started making bets. Who was the mystery woman? How long until I came crawling back for the hundred-and-first proposal? Sonia, apparently struck by some last-minute guilt, promised she'd make it right next time. Said she'd actually show up. And she did. Wedding dress. Perfect makeup. Cameras ready. She got a text from me: [Sonia, there won't be a hundred-and-first proposal. We're done.]

I'm Isa Borgia, the daughter of the most powerful Don in Corvina. My father worries I'll marry the wrong man on a whim, so he arranges for me to be engaged to Luca, the rising heir of the Marino family. It's an arranged marriage, but that doesn't mean I've lost all my say. The very least I can do is choose a ring I genuinely like. So, I go to the mafia auction. When the diamond ring appears as the final jewel of the night, I lift my paddle. Just before the gavel falls, an arrogant voice comes from behind me. "A country bumpkin like you thinks you can compete with me? Do yourself a favor and leave." The auction hall goes quiet for a few seconds. The only sound comes from the camera shutters clicking around the hall. I turn and see a woman in a gold couture gown. Her mouth curves in a casual smile, as if she owns the place. Before I can say a word, the auctioneer rushes to close the bid.
"Sold! Congratulations to Ms. Sofia Lopez for winning the final lot, the Eternal Star!" My brows pull tight, and a hot spike of anger rises in my chest. "You ended the bidding early! Do you even follow the rules here?" Sofia turns around and gives me a once-over, her gaze sharp as a blade. 
"Rules?" She lets out a cold laugh. "Come on. I'm Luca Marino's favorite godsister. Around here, I make the rules!" I can't help but laugh. What a coincidence. So, she's my fiance's godsister. I pull out my phone and call him. "Luca, your godsister just snatched the engagement ring I picked out. How are you going to handle this?"

My mother-in-law, Eleanor, was having a heart attack, and my husband, Ben Dover—a heart surgeon—was the only one who could save her. Did I call him? Nope. I just stood there, watching her gasp like a fish out of water. In my last life, I'd begged Ben to come save her. He brushed me off, accusing me of interrupting his time with his mistress, Ima Schit. No matter how much I pleaded, he wouldn't come. Eleanor had died in the hospital. And when Johnny, my father-in-law, demanded answers, Ben flipped the script, saying I'd never even called. He made Eleanor's death my fault. Johnny, blinded by grief and fury, killed me. But plot twist—I woke up. Right back to the day this circus started.

After marrying the man she had been eyeing secretly, Aria thought that she would have a happy ever-after. But on their third wedding anniversary, her world was shattered into a million pieces. She had been eager to celebrate their wedding anniversary, but when she went looking for husband, she found him on top of her step-sister, on his office table. Shattered, and unable to make sense of what was happening, Aria accepted a deal from her ex-husband's arch-enemy, but before they agreed to anything, they had to set rules. Aria's rule nu, Would Aria and Damian stick to their rules, or would they let their hearts rule?

The book is the first-person account of a young biracial Mexican and African American woman, Evelyn Rosalyn Amiss. She repeatedly transports in time between her home in Texas and then Newark, New Jersey to different time periods. She meets and helps some of her ancestors along the way. This is my first journey into a fantasy, time travel novel. I hope you stick around for each riveting, historical and spicy page turner. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living, or dead, is entirely coincidental.

I accompany my husband, Michael Yates, to a stationed assignment on a remote island. Out at sea, a sudden storm hits. The ship capsizes and begins to sink. As the commanding officer, my husband gives the last life vest to his so-called godsister, Naomi Hollister. I don't cry or scream. I just watch silently as he carefully fastens the straps around her body. In my past life, I had clutched my pregnant belly and begged him for help. After a brief hesitation, he finally put the vest on me. But Naomi was swept away by the waves, and her body later washed up on shore. Only half of it remained. Michael insisted it wasn't my fault. He also said that saving me was his duty, both morally and professionally. He even took leave to stay by my side before I gave birth. But when my water broke in the dead of night, he pushed me into the sea. His eyes were bloodshot and burning with hatred. "Leah, if it weren't for you, Mimi would still be alive! Did you really have to force me to give you the vest when you were just pregnant? Couldn't you have waited a little longer? Why do you get to live? Go down there and die with her!" I drown, and fish tear my body apart. I die without even a full corpse left behind. And then, I open my eyes. I'm back on the day of the storm.

For the past three months, I've slept only three hours every day just so my team and I can create an app. Thanks to our hard work, the app goes absolutely viral to the point we've garnered over 100 million registered users on the first week of its launch. At the afterparty, my wife, Stacie Woodward, announces that her godbrother, Tory Frost, who's the PR manager, will be the one receiving the million-dollar bonus. She then tosses me a few 50% discount coupons that can be used in shopping malls as my bonus. "You're just a code monkey—why do you need that much money anyway? You can have these discount coupons. Use them on anything you want. At least buy some nice clothes for yourself. Don't go around wearing these rags. You'll just end up humiliating me more." I plead to her in a low tone, "Have you gone crazy, Stacie? My dad needs the money for the best medication in order to save his life! Can you please stop joking around?" But Stacie clings to Toby's arm, looking high and mighty. "Your dad's dying, isn't he? He might as well stop wasting the public resources! I can always choose him a better grave and hold a nice funeral for him when his time comes!" As I look at Stacie's smug face, I just smile at her instead of getting mad at her. She must have forgotten that the app's core algorithm and the user growth model are built using my private, undisclosed technology stack. That means the copyright is mine and has nothing to do with the company. I just smile while nodding at Stacie. That night, I activate the technology stack's self-destruct and migration protocols.

My whole body began to quiver as I looked up at Ryan who wore a smug or was it? I couldn't tell as my vision was blurred with tears. "What is the meaning of this?" I questioned still in disbelief. Where had it all gone wrong??!. "It's exactly what it says in the paper, Ciara" "And what is that?" I stubbornly inquired. It was as if I didn't want to believe what the paper read until Ryan says it. A part of me still wanted to fight for whatever we still had left. But then he'd said it. Ryan had uttered those words I so desperately dreaded," I want a divorce, Ciara" *** Ciara is the heiress to her father's company but she left all of that to be in a contract marriage with Ryan. It was supposed to be a 'no-strings-attached' kind of feeling but, she couldn't help but fall in love with him. Just when she wanted to start a clean slate on their first anniversary, she was handed a divorce paper. Ryan is a billionaire and a man with a hardened heart. He never saw Ciara as something more than just a 'fake wife' who was willing to help him out with a case. Deciding that he had had enough, Ryan hands Ciara a divorce paper setting himself free from her. But on his way to the office of the new investor of his company one day, he is overcomed by a welling shock that the name of his new investor was Ciara. The same Ciara he'd once known. What happens when this two duo meets for the first time since their rough divorce? Find out!

Newly married and over the moon, Sienna inks her husband’s name on her lower back. A permanent gesture for a forever union, right? Wrong. Five years later, in the throes of a messy divorce, she is back to the tattoo shop to get a coverup tattoo. But she doesn’t expect to find that her tattoo artist is the hottest man alive — and he has been waiting for her. He is Gavin Kessler, the Tattoo Master. Tough on the outside, tougher on the inside. With an ugly past casting a long shadow on his present and future. What starts out as a crazy contract between them spirals into something far more dangerous. Sienna soon realizes she wants more than a tattoo from the Tattoo Master. She wants his díck, his protection, and if the differences between them will allow, his heart. Which of these is Gavin willing to give? ⚠️ WARNING: This book is exclusively for adult audiences (18+). It explores explicit sexual language, morally complex characters, toxic family dynamics and occasional violence.