We Dystopian

"Good morning, Greg. What would you like for breakfast?" "What? Did you just call me Greg? Are we mates? What gives you the right to call me that? Just because you're my wife? Listen, don't you ever call me Greg." "But... we're... married..." "So what? I only married you because of my grandmother. And let's face it, we're not on the same level, whether it's age, class, or status. You're just an eighteen-year-old country girl." "I'm 26, and you're only 18. An eight-year age gap isn't a joke. Just because we're married doesn't mean you can call me by my name. Didn't your parents teach you to respect your elders?" "How should I address you then?" "Just call me sir. I don't ever want to hear 'Greg' from your mouth again," I said sternly "The Billionaire's Country Girl Bride" is an engaging novel about the marriage between Greg, a rich businessman, and Sophie, a young country girl. Greg insists on being called "sir" by Sophie due to their age gap, and sets strict rules that keep them apart. As Greg brings other women home and ignores Sophie's feelings, she finds support in her university roommate, Diana. The story follows Sophie's journey as she learns to stand up for herself and find her own strength. With Diana's help, Sophie discovers the power of love and resilience.

Anastasia Kain and I were childhood sweethearts, but we resented each other for a lifetime. She blamed me for making decisions without her consent. I had awakened her memories and driven her first love to jump off a building. I blamed her for breaking her promise. She once swore she would love me forever, yet after losing her memory, she fell for someone else. We were married, but we lived like strangers who happened to share a roof. However, when I was diagnosed with ALS and the whole city urged her to divorce me, Anastasia carried me on her back and climbed 3,000 steps to reach a cathedral, praying day and night just for me to live a little longer. When the end finally came, she stayed beside my hospital bed all night, her forehead pressed gently against my cheek. In a trembling whisper, she said, "Mason, I've done everything I could for you in this life. If there's a next one, please don't make me remember again. Let me be with him." Tears slipped from the corners of my eyes. Only then did I realize I should never have chained her to me with the love we shared in our youth. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I first found Anastasia. This time, I chose to let her memories stay buried so that the girl I loved could run freely toward the man she had always wanted.

I, Xavier Locke, had married the same woman, Melanie Slater, seven times. But for the sake of her first love, Leonard Blueman, she divorced me seven times. The first time we got married, she told me, "I'll only love you for the rest of my life." But every time Leonard came back to the country, she sang a different tune. "Can't you be more sensible? How can you bear to stand by and let Lenny be called a homewrecker who snatches a married woman from her husband?" The first time we divorced, I cut my wrists to make her stay. I was taken to the hospital in an ambulance, but she never showed up even once to see me. The third time we divorced, I humbled myself and applied to be her assistant at her company. I did that just so I could see her a little more. By the sixth divorce, I had learned to quietly pack my things and move out of the home we shared. My hysteria, my repeated backing down, and my tolerant compromises brought me nothing—just Melanie repeatedly divorcing and remarrying me. Time and time again, she pulled the same trick. With history repeating itself, I decided enough was enough. After hearing that Leonard was coming back again, this time, I handed her the divorce papers myself. As always, she set a date for our next remarriage. But what she didn't know… was that I was leaving for good this time.

On the day of our tenth wedding anniversary, my wife, Cara Dempsey, jumped from ten thousand feet in the air after hearing that her first love's plane had crashed. It was only then that I finally understood the only man she ever truly loved all these years was Luthen Waltz. When we were both sent back in time to relive our teenage years, she wasted no time making a grand, public confession to Luthen, completely cutting ties with me. I just stood there, watching the two of them kiss like they couldn’t bear to be apart, and in that moment, my heart felt nothing. From that day on, we were over, and we lived our separate lives. Ten years later, we crossed paths again at a five-star hotel in Harbor City. She, who had become a celebrity adored by the world, was wearing a gown, laughing in Luthen’s arms. When she saw me wandering through the hotel, searching for someone, she thought I had come looking for her. “George, stop wasting your time! Even in ten years, I will never choose you!” I didn’t respond. Instead, I looked toward the little girl running toward me, calling me Dad, and gave her the warmest smile. Cara’s expression froze. Tears welled in her eyes as she choked out, “You lied to me, didn’t you? You said you hated kids and that you’d only ever love me.”

We all love men who is obsessed to that one specific woman. But what if a woman is the one who is obsessed to a man? Will you simp for a bitch like her?

On Father's Day, I received a heartwarming gift. My one-year-old son called me Dad for the first time. But moments later, he convulsed, foamed at the mouth, and died before we could reach the hospital. My wife was shattered, and I was devastated. The doctors couldn't identify the cause of his death. Three years later, my wife emerged from her grief, and we welcomed our second child. But the moment this child called me Dad, they, too, died instantly. To spare her further pain, I suggested adoption. Yet, even our adopted children met the same fate. Unable to bear the losses, my wife divorced me. Everyone said I was cursed, never meant to be a father. Defiant, I remarried and had another child, vowing never to let them call me Dad. For years, we adhered to this rule. But when our daughter turned four, she came home from preschool, eager to celebrate Father's Day. Holding a card, she read aloud, "Dad."

Book three of The Moon & Sun Series “You’ll see soon enough what I have in store for you Feilan. You’ll be more than Alpha and Queen. We’ll rule it all as Gods.” His words made my blood run cold, his need for me becoming clear and making sense in a twisted sort of way. The obsession and the possessiveness in the words terrified me. I didn’t stand a chance against him. How could I possibly fight against a direct descendant of Fenrir himself? The long and short of it was that I couldn’t, at least not alone. It would take all of us, my mates and I. My Alpha, and my dragon King and Prince’s. I was both Queen and Alpha and together, we just might stand a chance against this incredibly daunting threat. The only problem was, how do you prepare for an enemy you can’t track or see coming? It was time to ask the Moon and Sun to bless and help us. We’d need the blessings of the Gods to beat a son of Fenrir.

Okay, take a deep breathe and down the memory lane we go. As far as I’m told, I just woke up from a terrible accident that occur months ago that I have no idea- as a matter of fact, I don’t have any recollection of my life before waking up. There are three things that I’m certain: first is that the ‘accident’ has something to do with flight. I know what I saw. It was a giant pair of wings. Secondly, a guy whose face I can’t seem to recall but for some reason is all I can think about. And lastly, I know these two things intersect with one another and the for the reason why and how? I’m not sure. And as I begin to collect the broken fragments of him in my memory, I also begin to collect my missing pieces. Whether its for the better or the worse is what I'm about to find out. Okay, let’s do this again, shall we? Take a deep breathe and down the memory lang we go.

Four years and three months—one thousand, five hundred and forty-seven days—I have known Celia was mine. I have watched over her, listened to her, protected her. There is nothing I have not done and would not do to keep her safe and mine. What it started as. I do not know. but now it can only be defined as an obsession. Celia is mine. Like me, she has known it all this time. Why she is suddenly fighting me as our wedding day draws closer, I do not understand. It does not matter. The day is nothing more than a formality. I have never claimed to be a good or patient man. For her I was. That time is at an end. My kitten is baring her claws. She will find the veneer of civility I show the world is far thinner than she ever imagined—for in the end I am Bratva. We take what we want, ruthlessly and completely, and we never let it go. his novel includes spankings and rough sexual scenes. If such things offend you, please do not purchase.

When Trevor Received a Chat From an unknown sender, He gets dragged into a war of interstellar proportions. Will he be able to save the multiverse as we know it???