Traditional Korean Food Novels & Stories

“Strip!”Marcelo growled like some hungry lion deprived of food for days. “Don’t make me say this twice,” I scoffed, "I'd rather join my father in his grave than let you see my skin." A chuckle then rolled his lips as he stared down at me like I was his subject, "Fiesty, huh? By the time I'm done with you, you'll have no choice but to bow to me!" Don Marcello killed my father in cold blood and I must avenge his death. But how can I do that when I'm trapped in the monster's mansion? But I won’t give up! I was supposed to be the heiress to the family territory before Don Marcello claimed it. Every attempt to end his life only fueled my obsession with him, he likes his girls feisty and fighting. I'm the only girl who has been able to stand up to him even though it always earned me punishments. But one dangerous secret changes everything. After learning this secret, I kept asking: Was I still willing to burn in his hell… or would I make the devil fall to his knees?

On our Christmas break road trip, my cousin Felix Lloyd spotted some high-powered speakers at a highway rest stop. He had to have them—said he wanted to "blast it." "It's Christmas. We finally get to see everyone! We need some vibe!" My wife, Lana Ramsey, smiled and helped him pay. "Young people have energy. They know how to enjoy life." I yanked the power cord out. "Those aren't for regular cars. This is an EV. Overload it, and the whole system fries. Then what—just stuck in the middle of nowhere?" Lana's parents, Vincent and Donelia, booed me, calling me a buzzkill. Felix cranked the volume all the way up. Lana glared at me. "Say one more word and get out. I'll drive." Later, the speakers fried the battery system. We were stranded in total darkness on a rough mountain road. They finished the last of the food, then shoved me out to "go find help." I slipped, rolled down the slope, and died. When I opened my eyes, I was back—right when Felix jammed the speaker plug into the charging port. I grabbed a few more subwoofers and handed them over. "One isn't enough. Add more. That's how you really crank it."

My best friend and I were in relationships with the brothers from the Wilson Family, and we both got pregnant at the same time. She flaunted her relationship publicly, making everyone in Junopia know that Rick had left the monastery for her. On the other hand, I kept silent about my relationship with the heir of the Wilson Family. Thus, everyone mistakenly thought I was single. That was until my best friend saw my pregnancy report. In a fit of rage, she rallied a group of friends, stormed into my dorm, and vandalized my room with food waste. "I thought you were my best friend, and here you are, trying to steal my man," she accused. Not only did she live-stream this accusation, trying to paint me as the other woman, but she also spiked my chicken soup, hoping to get rid of my unborn child. In defiance, I poured the contaminated soup over her head. "Just so you know, Rick isn't the only Wilson brother," I retorted. Later, Rayden, the man who controlled Junopia, wrapped his arm around me and declared icily, "I've heard troubling rumors about my wife being called a mistress. We need to talk."

Animals were driven with only a few instincts to live their lives by: to find food, shelter, and to mate. Humankind was driven by multiple things: lust, anger, hate, grief, jealousy, joy, and a host of other instincts and emotions. When lycans were created the goddess of such things thought it would be enthralling, exhilarating to see how such savage wolves and desensitized humans would meld together as one... The result was disastrous. The select few humans she chose to go forward with her experiment with the strength of her sacred animal, the lupine, destroyed one another. He was a mosaic, composed of broken pieces. She was an unfinished art project The moon godddess ends the lives of Lycans she sees as a threat to the Lycan community. Instead of being ripped apart by her hounds, she gives a warrior the chance to redeem himself and his friends through gifting him a mate who is bound to change his life. An accident links a potential future servant to the moon goddess to the warrior. How will Pomelia Grace, a holy novice react to being mated to such a man, Warren of Bane pack? All of the humans she chose went mad with the power, abilities, and strength that came with the wolf gene. The goddess had succeeded in creating a unique race but had a hard time managing her creations without killing them out of anger.

The end of the world was upon us, but there weren't enough spots for evacuation. The roars of the zombies echoed in my ears as my fiancé, Oliver, gritted his teeth and pulled me onto the rescue vehicle—securing the last available seat. I arrived safely at the survivor base. Lina, his first love, did not. The zombies tore her apart. Oliver still went through with our marriage, but I never expected that he had only done so to make me suffer. In his eyes, I was the one who had killed Lina. If she had to endure such agony, then I should, too. For five years, he hated me. My life was worse than that of a stray dog scavenging for food on the street. On the day my divorce was finalized, he kidnapped me, dragged me into the wilderness, and wrapped his fingers around my throat. Then, he threw us both into the swarm of the undead. When I opened my eyes again, I was somehow reborn on the day the apocalypse began. The rescue team was shouting impatiently, "One more! We have room for one more—hurry!" I turned to Oliver, watching his hesitation. Then, with a quiet smile, I took a step back and let someone else have the last seat.

During spring break, my family's housekeeper's son, Ethan Shaw, steals my black card and takes the entire class on a luxury trip to Norkin. He books out an entire fireworks show to impress my girlfriend, Claire Sanders. Then, he treats everyone to first-class tickets for the cruise while basking in the spotlight. But when I discover he's using my card and confront him, he teams up with my girlfriend to twist the story. They accuse me of being jealous of him. Cornered on the deck, I'm about to pull out my phone to prove it when Ethan suddenly shoves me over the railing. I'm left hanging by one desperate hand. His voice is ice-cold. "Lucas is just picking a fight because he's after my money. I can't sleep soundly with him around." On Ethan's signal, his lackey crushes my fingers one by one until my grip fails. I fall into the open sea, ending as food for the fish. When I open my eyes, I find myself back on the day Ethan is booking the fireworks show. Watching him revel in the spotlight, I take out my phone and call the bank to cancel the card. This time, I want to see just how he plays the lavish big shot.

Veronica Murphy has always lived in the shadows—abducted at birth, raised in poverty, and forced to watch her identical sister, Tiffany, enjoy the life that should have been hers. But one fateful night changes everything: while delivering food, she risks her life to save a bloodied stranger from a burning Ferrari—unaware that the man she just saved is Matthew Kings, the cold, ruthless heir of one of Bloomstead’s most powerful families. Her bravery earns her nothing but danger. Recognized as Tiffany by Matthew’s family, Veronica is pulled into a world of wealth, manipulation, and family politics she never asked to enter. Betrayed and powerless, she must endure lies, stolen credit, and the threat of losing her adoptive parents’ lives—all while navigating the tangled desires of a man who is as dangerous as he is irresistibly handsome. When Tiffany steps in to claim the credit for Veronica’s life-saving act, Matthew is drawn to the wrong woman, and Veronica is left to watch from the sidelines…until the truth surfaces, and her patience turns into vengeance. In a world ruled by power, deception, and obsession, Veronica must fight to reclaim her identity, protect her family, and survive a man who could either be her greatest enemy—or the one she can never forget.

The student I once sponsored, Lillian Pegg, jacked my identity, slapped on the "rich heiress" title, and started tossing out houses and cars like she was some fairy godmother for "underprivileged" students. Her big mission? Making sure everyone had a roof over their head. My in-laws? Wrapped around her finger. They swore up and down she'd saved their lives. Even Liam—my son with my late husband—acted like she was the only mom he'd ever had. Meanwhile, I was puking blood from ulcers, and everyone treated it like a bad improv act. Liam bought every word out of her mouth. Thought she and my husband were some kind of twin-flame couple and labeled me the evil baby snatcher. Fast-forward: I got locked in a bedroom and left to bleed out. Then I woke up. It was the exact day Lillian was playing Santa Claus. The crowd around her practically worshipped her. "You're the kindest boss in the world! You care about our food, clothes, housing, everything. We'll support you and your company forever!" Yeah, not on my watch. I shut down all her privileges right then and there. This time? Lillian and that backstabbing son of mine were gonna eat regret for the rest of their lives.

My boyfriend's childhood sweetheart bound herself to a transfer system: everything she ate would be redirected straight into my stomach. She opened a streaming account and broadcast herself eating for twelve hours straight. She earned a fortune. Meanwhile, I collapsed with acute pancreatitis and was rushed to the hospital. When I explained the situation to my boyfriend, he only stared at me like I was insane. "How could something that absurd exist? If food could really be transferred, no one in the world would ever starve. You're just jealous that she's making money from streaming." After that, every time his childhood sweetheart went live, I ended up hospitalized again. I kept hovering between life and death. I sought medical help, but the doctors couldn't explain my condition. Some even wanted to commit me to a psychiatric ward. Then, one day, in order to outdo her rivals in a PK match, she devoured ten pounds of rice in a single sitting. At that very moment, my spleen and stomach ruptured, and I bled to death on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of her very first livestream. This time, I was prepared. I rushed out and bought twenty takeout meals. "This time," I said, "I'll eat first."

After Celine Anderson let her newly-promoted assistant take credit for my billion-dollar project for the ninth time, I handed in my resignation letter. I also refused to show up in the same place as her. Whenever she was interviewed by talk shows as a public figure, I would switch off all the screens in the building. I also got the security guard to stop her from entering even if she brought me a cup of coffee in the middle of a tornado. To see me, she purposely rescheduled three virtual meetings with foreign companies. So, I immediately bought air tickets to leave the country. I blocked her everywhere and formatted the hard disk that contained all of our memories from the past decade. When I was twenty, I studied with her in the university library. When I was twenty-five, I ate the cheapest bread with her when she first started her company. When I was thirty, I finally knew how to let go of things that no longer serve me. On the ninth time I was accused of sleeping my way up, I came across a photo of her and her assistant kissing. Meanwhile, I was sitting at our dining table with food that had turned cold. It turned out that our decade-long relationship had been a joke. However, it was fine. It was not too late to come to my senses.