True Grit Novel

Two weeks shy of her 17th birthday, Charlene Ludlow accidentally met with the gorgeous blue-eyed country boy named Thomas Raven who was going to turn her unadventurous, well-planned upper-class life, upside down. Even though her father, who was soon to be Mayor had chosen a suitable future boyfriend for her, she was already fallen head over heels for the boy, who was said to have slept on the beds of half the girls in town. Tom had never been attached to anything in his life before. When he met Charlene, he felt something that he didn't recognize, he wanted her all to himself, nothing more and nothing less. Despite how much they wanted to be with each other, they faced many challenges of circumstances, from other people and even between themselves.

The day my birth parents found me, the reunion banquet they threw turned into their funeral. My parents and their adopted daughter, Leila, died of food poisoning that night. The only one who survived was my older brother, Alpha Kian. He didn’t like sweets, so he never touched the cake. The cake that I handed to them myself. “So you want to take Leila’s place. “You’re just jealous because she got all our love! “She was the only one who ever accepted you, and you still killed her!” Those were Kian’s exact words as he shouted at me right outside the hospital room. From that day on, I became a sinner. To make up for it, I barely slept four hours a night and worked five jobs just to buy back the villa the rival pack seized during the chaos. However, the day I finally saved up enough, I saw my dead parents throwing a birthday party for Leila in that very villa. Kian stood among them, looking at her with a warmth I didn’t recognize. My mother said, “Isn’t today also Lily’s birthday? It’s been eight years. Maybe it’s time to forgive her.” However, Kian didn’t hesitate to refuse. “No. Even though Leila sniffed out the wolfsbane and saved you, we agreed that Lily gets ten years. “We can’t risk her ever trying to poison Leila again. Not even a day less.” I clutched the diagnosis paper from the clinic tightly and laughed through my tears. I knew I wouldn’t get to ten years. I was already dying.

When my mother finally found the real heiress, she was on her knees selling shoes on the street. And to my surprise, I recognized her—she was none other than my fiancé's first love. Determined to oust me, the fake heiress, she played her part well, putting on a daily show to make me look bad. I was content to play along, enjoying our little game, until my fiancé’s offhand remark, “Was that really necessary?" shattered my composure. Fine, I thought, “You can keep this husband and family. I’ve got better things to do—like finding my real parents.”

I was the real daughter of the Sinclair family, yet I was the one abandoned when their fake daughter and I were kidnapped and taken to the top of a building. They were given a choice between the two of us, and they chose to save the fake daughter, letting me be pushed off from the eighteenth-floor balcony. Even though I survived, I was completely disappointed in them. Then, their attitudes changed overnight. My parents, who despised me, started asking me about my likes and dislikes. My brother who wished me dead, started suddenly giving me precious jewelry. Even my fiancé, who always claimed I was nothing compared to the fake daughter, started to prepare for our wedding. To say I was confused was an understatement.

To find the missing fake heiress, my family forced me to undergo a memory extraction. They were convinced that I had bullied her for the past three years and driven her to run away. I gave a bitter smile and let them continue. As the memories surfaced one after another, the truth became clear. I was the one who had been bullied all along. My parents, overcome with guilt, clutched my hands so tightly they nearly fainted. My brother’s eyes were bloodshot, his teeth grinding until he drew blood. In their arms, I looked up in confusion and asked softly, “Who are you?”

After a venomous snake bites me, my husband, Daniel Dawson, injects the only antivenom into my adopted sister, Grace Winton. Before I black out, I see my parents, Daniel, and my son, Ethan Dawson, all gathered around Grace, while I lie alone on the grass, completely ignored. When I come to, my colleague shakes his head and tells me the toxin has already spread. Within 48 hours, my body will begin to rot from the inside, and I'll die in unbearable pain. I give up the conservative plan and swallow a potent painkiller instead. Over the next two days, I transfer the hospital my grandfather gave me and every asset in my name to Grace. I divorce Daniel and place both his and Ethan's hands into Grace's. When I put Grace's name on the amyotrophic lateral sclerosis treatment protocol I've spent five years developing, they finally smile, hold my hand, and tell me we're finally a real family. I stay silent and only smile at them. I wonder what their faces will look like two days later when they see my body.

Abian Bimantara. Anak kamu, Adrian Bimantara. Oke. Ini mengejutkan. Kediaman Bimantara dibuat gempar ketika sesosok bayi muncul di depan pintu rumah. Ditambah secarik kertas berisi sebaris kalimat yang menyatakan si bayi adalah keturunan keluarga Bimantara. O–wow! Seisi rumah heboh. Lalu, bagaimana reaksi si tersangka yang disebutkan dalam kertas? Siapa sebenarnya Abian? Ibunya? Orang tuanya?

ini adalah cerita asli yg aku buat sendiri karena aku penggemar dari cerita cerita zombie jadi aku memutuskan untuk membuat novel nya , harusnya buat komis tapi karena buat novel lebih mudah jadi di buat novel aja * dunia sudah hancur berantakan akibat wabah zombie ini ada seorang pria bernama ardlick yg bertahan hidup*

Hanya karena dia bukan berasal dari keluarga kaya seperti rivalnya, kekasihnya mencampakkan dia. Dia bahkan mati karena kecelakaan yang di sengaja dan diatur. Namun dia kembali lagi dengan kekuatan seorang ahli beladiri, dan menguasai ilmu kedokteran dari dunia paralel. Baca Kisah Dokter Ajaib dari dunia paralel, Peter Davis.

On the day we were supposed to get our marriage license, the groom's name was swapped out. The woman my boyfriend was now promised to—the pampered mafia princess nestled in his arms—looked at me with a triumphant smile. "Isn't it perfect?" she sneered. "A fraud of a bride for a fake heir. What a match." I ignored her and turned to the man I loved. This was the man who endured three days of brutal punishment just for the right to marry me, when the Rossi family first acknowledged him as their true heir. Now, he just nodded along with her. "Don't be so dramatic. It's a joke. You're not actually mad, are you? It's just a piece of paper. Once Sienna's had her fun, you two get a divorce, and then it'll be our turn. I promise." I smiled. Then I turned and walked straight to the so-called "fake" heir. "The marriage license is filed, honey," I said. "Let's go plan our real wedding."