When The Stars Burn Down

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.

She’s texting him her heart. But she’s got the wrong number… When Isabel “El” Watson applied for a sales job with her company, she had no idea a jelly donut would explode on her blouse, or that her grumpy boss would practically laugh her out of the interview. Accountants could be salespeople, she was sure of it, even if that jerkface didn’t think so. So when a lady at the local wine festival offers her a sales job on the spot at a new boutique winery, El jumps at the chance. She also jumps at the chance to text with the guy who danced with her at the festival. Life was finally looking up. Boston’s friend, Chad, never should have given Boston’s number to the girl at the wine festival as a joke, but the damage was done. When El sends Boston a text later that night, believing he is Chad, he’s too nice to hurt her feelings by telling her the truth. But there are a few other truths Boston might have thought about: Truth #1: He’s her boss Truth #2: She just accepted a job at his mother’s new winery Truth #3: He’s always had a crush on her Even though Boston is no longer El’s grumpy boss, they still work together at his mom’s winery. And while sparks are flying as they get to know each other for real, El’s kind of sweet on the guy who always seems to know just what to say via text too. Obviously, things will come to a head. Will Boston come clean about the flirty texts being from him? Or will El figure out on her own that she’s been Texting With the Enemy?

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned... Hopeless romanticist Doris Evans is convinced she wants nothing more to do with romance after one too many betrayals and broken hearts. But then she crosses paths with the man who made her vow not to pursue love ever again. Just one look at him and she could feel herself melting like chocolate... She wants him but his heart is still as cold as ever. Now, she's had enough of being rejected and she's determined to make him taste a bit of his own medicine. But does she have what it takes to defrost his frozen heart and exert her big revenge plan? Workaholic Brad Bruce wants no woman in his life. Especially, not Doris Evans. She possessed all the attributes he disapproved of in a partner: Clingy, long-winded, and above all, Immature— Extremely immature! But still, she is like a fresh breeze to his all-work, no-play life. And, though he doesn't appreciate her carefree lifestyle, he knows more than anyone how strong the influence she has on him. Will he finally learn to loosen his tie—and open his heart? Or will he cling to his safe and predictable life, even if it means missing out on true happiness?

I'm the strongest warrior of the Silvermoon Pack. For ten years, I've been secretly in love with my Alpha, Aiden. The only wolfless Alpha. We grew up with nothing but each other. I bled for him. I cut down his enemies and searched for a cure to awaken his wolf. He promised me a place at the top—always by his side. The fated mate bond never snapped into place for us. It didn't matter. I loved him anyway. Then I found out the truth. His heart belonged to someone else. A she-wolf named Gianna. When a rival pack kidnapped her, Aiden sent me to get her back. I did, but I died. And so did my wolf. He welcomed Gianna home with open arms, ready for their Mating Ceremony, but he refused to believe I was dead. He thought I was just jealous, hiding in a fit of rage. He even ordered my banishment. But on the night of the full moon, as the entire pack gathered for their Alpha’s ceremony, my second-in-command crashed the altar in his war truck. He walked toward Aiden, carrying my blood-soaked body. Aiden’s body trembled. He collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest in agony. "I can feel it. The mate bond…it’s breaking. Rhea was my fated mate... How can she be dead?!"

Pagkatapos ng tatlong taong pagpapakasal, Ryah Zovee realized her husband, Grayson Kai Sandoval, true priorities lay with his first love, Zoe Klein. Hindi maramdaman ni Ryah ang pagpapahalaga sa kaniya ni Grayson kahit sa family gathering o business magmula noong dumating si Zoe. Tanging kay Zoe siya nakatuon. Isang araw ay sinabi ni Grayson na si Zoe ang dapat mamahala sa kumpanya at siya ang may karapat-dapat sa posisyon kaysa kay Ryah. Dahilan iyon para masaktan siya ng lubusan at gumawa ng desisyon na umalis. “Kaya kong buhayin ang anak ko. Our paths have diverged, and it's best if we part ways.” Pagkatapos ng maraming taon, binago ni Ryah ang kaniyang pamumuhay. Mabilis siyang umangat sa kaniyang negosyo at nagkaroon ng koneksiyon sa iba't ibang tao, lalo na sa isang CEO na siyang may-ari ng pinakamalaking kumpanya. Kalaunan, biglang dumating si Grayson na humihingi ng kapatawaran. Bumungad sa kaniya ang nagtatanong na si Ryah. “Para saan pa? Grayson? ” Ngunit hindi inaasahan ay dumating ang CEO, claiming Ryah and their daughter as his own. "You're too late," the CEO declared, his possessiveness unmistakable. "She's mine, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep her and our daughter safe." Mapapatawad nga kaya ni Ryah si Grayson? O mananatili nang sarado ang puso ni Ryah para kay Grayson dahil sa pagkakamaling nagawa nito?

The first experiment in the world of retrieving memories after death succeeds, and my memories are going to be broadcast live all over the Internet. My dad has just learned about my death, but he only says in a disgusted tone, "Who would want to see the memories of someone who is selfish, mean, and has nothing commendable at all about them? Today is the wedding day of Zoe and Cameron. Pause the live broadcast and stop being so sickening!" Zoe is my stepsister, and Cameron is supposed to be my fiance. After that, my father finds out the truth from the live broadcast of my memories. He begs for my forgiveness tearfully but… I'm already dead.

On my birthday, Rowan Shore ditches me for the 99th time to run to his suicidal true love. I tell the system, "I'm done with this mission. I've had enough." For years, I have tried every trick in the book, but I can't win Rowan's heart. The system says that if I die in this world, I'll return to my original one. The first time, I slit my wrists in the bathroom. Rowan kicks the door down, sends me to the hospital, and berates me for using self-harm to snare his attention. The second time, I swallow an entire bottle of sleeping pills. He bursts in at the last moment and sobs while holding me. He says he knows he messed up. There's still a third time, a fourth time, and more, right?

Three months into my pregnancy, I was resting at home to ensure the baby’s health when a typhoon struck. My husband, Adam Quinn, received a call and rushed out to meet his childhood sweetheart. As a result, I experienced severe abdominal pain. The ambulance taking me to the hospital was involved in an accident, and I lost the baby. Adam arrived much later, only to blame me, saying, "Mona Thomas, why are you so useless? You couldn’t even keep the baby!"

Sheer fate was what turned our bittersweet love into a happy ever after. Fate? I myself erased and rewrote our love story to give it the happy ending we deserved. I was promised to Matteo Giuseppe, the youngest son of the most powerful family in the Chicago Outfit but I was given away to Salvatore Berlusconi, the Capo dei Capi of the New York Famiglia. I was sold to him as an object marking the end of the Great War, or rather, it was me atoning for the sins of my father. A wedding solely about duty, honour and atonement. ••••••••••••••• “ If you told me about the darkness inside of you, I'd still look at you like you are the sun.” Book one of A Mafia's Love Chronicles.

The Clan Healer told me that without the vial of Progenitor's Blood, the Blood Blight afflicting me meant I had only seventy-two hours to live. But my husband, Miles, the new Duke of our world, gave the only vial of the precious cure to my adopted sister, Vivienne, the woman I had turned three years ago. "She's in agony from the rejection, Isolde. It's a pain you can't possibly understand." His tone was self-righteous, devoid of any concern for the patch of skin on my collarbone already turning to stone. I nodded, watching as the life-saving, dark red liquid slid down another woman's throat. I accomplished a great deal in the time I had left. As I signed the documents, the lawyer's hand trembled. "Are you certain you want to transfer everything, Your Grace? The territorial rights of a thousand-year-old clan..." I didn't hesitate. "Yes. To Vivienne." My adopted daughter, Lily, the girl I had risked everything to save, who was now forever frozen at the age of eight, cowered in Vivienne's arms, pointing at me and screaming, "Aunt Vivienne is my real mommy! You're the witch who turned us into monsters!" I offered no defense. "Yes, that's right. Be a good girl and listen to your new mother now." The Progenitor's Ring, the symbol of the clan's supreme authority, now rested on Vivienne's hand. "Oh, sister, you're too kind," she sobbed, her sobs a practiced performance. "I'll be sure to protect the family in your stead." I nodded. "You'll run things better than I ever did." I even signed away my control over the Elder Council, a council sustained by my own blood. For the first time in a century, a shadow of complex emotion crossed Miles's face. He stared at me,"Isolde, stop fighting. It's better this way. You need to rest." Yes. On my deathbed, I had finally become the perfect, submissive Isolde they always wanted. An Isolde who was about to turn to dust. The seventy-two-hour countdown had begun. I wondered, when I finally turned to ash,