Touching My Mom Novels & Stories

Mom and Dad keep claiming that I'm their firstborn, so they need to love me with all their hearts. Already, they're saving up for my college funds and keep taking me on vacations abroad just to explore the world. This time, I've gotten a full score on my exams. My parents decide to take me and my four-year-old sister, Amelia Orson, on a trip. Worried that I might mind Amelia's presence, they even specifically explain to me that no one is capable of taking care of Amelia in their stead, so she has to come along. I accept the explanation immediately. But Amelia falls sick right before the trip. There isn't any cough syrup left at home, so I use my pocket money to buy some imported cough syrup and feed Amelia with it. I thought I'd get praised for my efforts. Instead, Mom rushes over to induce vomiting for Amelia. With red-rimmed eyes, she scolds me, "How dare you feed her medicine without checking the source! Do you have any idea how lethal that is? When I was young, I almost died from a dose of misused medication fed by my own sister! How dare you try to harm Amelia, you wretched child!" After that, Mom tells Dad to bring out his suitcase so that she can lock me up in it. "You want to go on a trip because you've scored full marks in your exams, right? Fine! Have all the fun you want in the suitcase!" What they've forgotten is the fact that Dad often uses this suitcase on his business trips, so there's a TSA-approved lock on it. I can't even open the suitcase from inside.

This story is in two captivating parts under one unforgettable title. Book One spans 60 gripping chapters, while Book Two continues the legacy... telling the love story of the next generation. ******* One reckless night. One devastating mistake. And a secret that changes everything. On her birthday, Ashley’s world shatters. Betrayed by the two people she trusted most, her step-sister and the man she loved for five years—she makes a desperate, impulsive choice… and spends the night with a stranger. She never expected to see him again. She never expected to carry his children. Pregnant, abandoned, and cast out by her own family, Ashley is left to face a cruel world alone. With no home, no support, and no one to turn to, survival becomes her only goal. Until he appears. Mysterious... Powerful... Always hidden behind a mask. The enigmatic man offers her protection, care, and a sense of safety she thought she’d lost forever. Drawn to him despite the secrets he keeps, Ashley begins to rebuild her broken life, unaware of the truth that could destroy everything. Because the man she’s slowly falling for… is none other than David Westwood—the ruthless billionaire CEO of DWC. The same man from that unforgettable night... And the father of her triplets. When the truth is finally revealed, will Ashley choose forgiveness… or walk away from the man who unknowingly changed her life forever? And can love truly bloom from betrayal, secrets, and a past that refuses to stay buried? Dive in to uncover a story of heartbreak, passion, and a love that defies all odds.

When my parents got old, they needed someone to take care of them. Katerina—my younger sister—was off to Amiraka with her smug husband Chris. Meanwhile, I was crammed into a two-bedroom in Bellavaro with my husband Pavel, who drove a taxi. Mom had no retirement savings, so guess who she dumped herself on? Yep—me. Dad took the cash and ran straight to Katerina. Our place was tiny, but we still gave Mom the master bedroom. She hated it. Constant complaints, constant drama. According to her, life with me was pure misery. Every night, she'd hop on video call with Katerina, gushing about Amiraka like it was heaven, while throwing shade at me for not "taking care of her properly." Meanwhile, I was drowning—trying to hold it together for Mom, help my daughter prep for exams, support a husband with spine problems, and check in on aging in-laws. Mom didn't care. She wanted a plane ticket to Amiraka to party for Katerina's birthday. I snapped. We had a blowout fight, and she collapsed—brain hemorrhage. Even in her hospital bed, she stared me down, whining Katerina's name like a broken record. Then she spat out, "I should've never picked a useless daughter like you!" My chest cracked in half. I blacked out. When I woke up—I was ten years younger. Back to the day they decided who'd get stuck taking care of them. This time, Mom didn't wait. "I want Katerina to take care of me. It's my turn to enjoy life!"

When my eyes were gouged out, my mother was shopping with my cousin. When I was forced to drink a bottle of acid and died in agony, she snapped impatiently, “Kara, can’t you be as well-behaved as Wendy? If you’re just going to run away, then don’t bother calling me!” However, when she saw the crime scene, she rushed outside and threw up. As a criminal psychologist specially hired by the River City police, how could she feel sick at the sight of her own daughter’s body?

My mother said I was a born beauty and was able to charm any man. She told me not to touch a man before my twentieth birthday. In the previous timeline, I listened to her, so when a wealthy heir was dosed with an aphrodisiac, I pushed him away when he tried to take me into his embrace. But the effects of the skincare routine I did transferred to my mother after my twentieth birthday. I used face masks, but my face became wrinkled and spotted. Meanwhile, my mother glowed with smooth and youthful skin. I danced, but I only became fatter while my mother became slim. Seeing how I looked like a fifty-year-old woman, my father called me a useless piece of trash and wanted to marry me off to a bald man as his second wife. I cried and begged my mother for help. But she said this was for my own good, her twenty-something face a mask of hypocrisy. I was forced to run away from home, but doing so only sped up my aging. Three days later, I died on the streets right by a trash heap. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back in time to the night I met that rich heir. This time, I did not push him away but straddled him in bed.

One more time?" ML's voice was hoarse as he gently nibbled on FL's earlobe. FL's cheeks flushed. "Don’t ”she said. ML smiled. "What? Don't stop?" FL was lost in the wonderful feeling. In a daze, she recalled days long ago when she had waited at her wedding for her husband, whom she had never met. The wedding had already begun, but the groom was nowhere to be seen. Her hands and feet were cold as she faced the whispers of the guests alone. Then came the news: her groom, the future Alpha, had eloped with a ROGUE! Facing everyone's ridicule, FL decisively decided to change husbands on the spot. After all, it was just a political marriage. If she had to choose one, she would choose the strongest man. Amidst the gasps of the crowd, she fixed her gaze on the handsome and mature man, the most powerful Alpha, who was also her fiancé's stepfather. The man, 13 years her senior, firmly took FL's hand, and the two completed the wedding ceremony. Their married life was blissful and sweet, the only flaw being the rumor that ML was infertile due to an injury. As their relationship deepened, FL discovered it was just a rumor. Every time FL tried to escape, clutching her back, the strong man behind her would pull her back to bed. FL gasped, snapping out of her reverie to find ML straining against her, looking at her with a wronged expression: "You're distracted."

I married my vampire husband ten years ago and gave him a half-blood heir, abandoning my career as a painter to become a full-time mother. Fortunately, my son inherited my talent. At just six years old, he held his first solo art exhibition, inspired by the theme "My Mother." But he never let me attend, and he never let me see his paintings. My husband said my presence would make Luke nervous---that I should stay home and do the housework as a good wife and mother, and wait for them to come back. I told myself he was just young and didn't know better, that he was only pushing back against my discipline, not truly rejecting me. Until the day I snuck into the gallery wearing a surgical mask pulled low. In the center of the crowd, my husband held our son's hand while tenderly pulling a woman in a red dress into his arms. He turned to the guests and announced: "This is Luke's mother---my wife." The three of them stood together, beaming with perfect happiness. And I---the one who'd stayed up all night setting up this exhibition---stood before the paintings while not a single person recognized me. That was when I finally understood. My seemingly gentle, caring vampire husband had long ago given our son a replacement mother. And I was nothing more than the human nanny who'd served her purpose by producing an heir.

My mom is a pathological liar who enjoys making herself seem like the victim. Unfortunately, I'm always the scapegoat. When I was little, there was one time when she went out to play poker with her friends. As a result, she forgot to go home and prepare dinner on time. After that, she slapped me in front of the entire family. "This brat ran off to god knows where earlier! I went out looking for her, which is why dinner got delayed!" Because of that lie, I had to kneel in the courtyard throughout the night. When I was studying, I had to take an extremely important exam. My teacher repeatedly reminded the parents to prepare all materials required for their children. But my mom didn't even prepare anything for me. After that, she even said in front of everyone, "I've already prepared the materials for her. She was the one who threw them away when she was on her way to school because she didn't want to take the exam at all!" Since then, all of my classmates ostracized me throughout my entire school life. After I came of age, my mom kept crying to me in the middle of the night. "Your father has been abusing me for so many years. I had to endure everything for your sake, you know!" I advised her to get a divorce, only for her to tell an exaggerated version of what I said to my father. "Your daughter egged me on to divorce you! She said she doesn't need a useless father like you! I couldn't stand it anymore, so I'm telling you this!" He flew into a fit of rage on the spot, which led to him accidentally pushing me down the stairs. I died on the spot from the fall. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day my mom cries to me about my dad for the first time.

I was prepping the ceremonial cloak for our seventh mating anniversary. The front door suddenly banged open. My son rushed inside, tears streaming down his face. "The teacher yelled at me," he sobbed. He shoved the wrinkled drawing into my hands before burying his face in my shirt. I smoothed out the paper to see what the drama was about. It was a sketch of a faceless woman titled: The Substitute Mom. My heart stopped as I read the scribbles underneath. "Daddy said she is the backup." "She does the chores but gets no wages." "The Real Mom is responsible for being beautiful and guarding the treasury." My fingertips turned ice-cold against the paper. My mate, Ethan, had just returned from a patrol. He kissed my forehead. "What did our pup draw?" The next second, his smile froze when he saw the content. His voice tightened, and he reached out to snatch the book. "He watches too many cartoons! He's writing nonsense!" I stared at the man I had shared a den with for seven years. He looked like a stranger now. If I was the substitute. Who was this beautiful real mother? And where had my true son been all these years?

When I was ten years old, I sold my mother to human traffickers. My father calls me an ungrateful monster, a devil. He sues me 99 times, but each time, I am found not guilty because I am under 14. In the end, on his way to bring my mother home, he is beaten to death by the men in that village. 20 years later, my younger sister finally brings our mother—now unable to walk and mentally unstable—out of the village. She starts a livestream and breaks down in tears. "I beg the internet to put my devil of a sister on trial. Don’t let her get away with this! She destroyed my family. I will make sure she loses everything!" But only I know… My mother deserves it.