Who Made Siren Head Novels & Stories

When I see someone asking for help in an assignment related to the entrepreneur course on the college forum, I join the group chat using a student account. I even help refine several financial models and market strategies because of my job's nature. Everyone in the group chat is excited, to say the least. Every day, they keep calling me a genius while urging me to improve the details of the whole assignment. Two months later, the assignment's quality is very close to perfection. But the group chat suddenly goes silent. I scroll through the chat history out of curiosity, only to find out that the students have already created another group chat. "That senior isn't an official teammate of ours. Let's not tell her about us using this assignment for an upcoming competition." "Precisely! Our names are the only ones on the list! She'd better not steal the credit during tomorrow's finals!" "With one less person involved, we each get an additional tens of thousands of dollars' worth of rewards!" As I look at the screen, I just let out a soft chuckle. It appears that this isn't an assignment at all. But unfortunately for these students, I happen to be one of the judges sitting at the judging station tomorrow.

Hadley King is the biggest popstar in the world after winning a singing competition, she is also part sirene and an orphan. Sadly she is also stuck in the clutches of her manager, an incubus called Ryan. One day her tour bus crashes in rural Texas and she meets the older and very handsome Alpha Logan Walker. They have an i stunt connection and soon realises they are mates. But Logan struggles with her age, he does not want to be that kinda Alpha who goes for the much younger woman. Will Logan give into destiny and can Hadley escape the magic of Ryan ?

By the time I got home from my business trip, it was already past midnight—and my husband wasn't there. A woman's blouse lay on the sofa. It wasn't mine. I called him. He said he was working late at the office. I didn't bother with pretense. "Whose blouse is on the sofa?" His tone was light and casual. "Who else would it be? It's obviously a gift for you. Try it on." Suspicious, I picked it up and held it against myself. The blouse was clearly one size too small. "Honey, this is a size S. I always wear M." My husband owns a clothing company. He handles all my clothes. He's even used my measurements to design women's wear. There's no way he doesn't know my size. On the phone, he froze for half a second, then spoke as if piecing something together. "This is a new women's line I'm launching. I ordered custom pieces for you and my sister. I must've grabbed the wrong one. I'll switch it tomorrow." A moment later, his voice softened with exhaustion. "Babe, you've been gone for days. Without you, I feel so tired… I miss you so much…" It was already late into the night. Hearing him sound vulnerable—something he rarely did—made my chest tighten. I blamed myself for overthinking. But the moment I hung up, realization struck. His sister has the same build as me. She always wears size M.

During a company team-building event, I collapse from a seafood allergy. Yet my fiance, Frederick Scott, rushes Beatrice Sutton, who only twisted her ankle, to the hospital. I come close to dying because I don't get treatment in time. Later, Frederick explains, "Beatrice is my best friend's sister. He's seriously ill now, and I promised him I'd take care of his sister. I swear I'll keep my distance from her from now on." This isn't the first time I've heard an excuse like that. On our fifth anniversary, Beatrice accidentally deleted a work file and burst into tears out of worry. When Frederick heard about it, he left me stranded on a mountain and drove back to the office himself. I spent a whole day and night walking home through the rain. On Christmas, Beatrice's house lost power. Frederick was worried that she might be scared of being alone, and he rushed over to her place without even telling me, leaving me out in the snow waiting for him until dawn. These kinds of things have happened countless times. Afterward, he always brushes them off with the same excuse. I've long since lost all faith in him and no longer believe a single word he says. I pick up my phone and call the company that keeps reaching out to me. "I've decided to accept your offer from last time. I'll bring the core technology with me."

A month before the SATs, I, Jenny Reid, could see my score. Literally. It was just floating right above my head. But there was a catch. Every time I cracked open a prep book, my score would drop by ten points. But if I skipped a day of school? It jumped right back up by ten. So, I played the system. For a whole month, I barely lifted a finger. And on the day of the test, the number glowing over my head was a solid 1560. When the scores finally dropped online… I'd scored a 500. And the 1560? That was my little sister Patricia's score. My parents lost it. As punishment, they got me a grueling night-shift job at a local electronics factory. That first night, a bunch of guys I'd never seen before cornered me in the parking lot and beat me half to death. Fading in and out of consciousness, I heard my sister's voice right by my ear. "You just had to one-up me, didn't you? Thought you were so smart… but you never figured out I was the one controlling that number over your head." The truth hit me like a physical blow. The score had been her trick all along. I opened my eyes—and I was back. One month before the SATs. The number above my head read exactly 1300. "Hey," my sister said, all fake sweetness. "Want to study together tonight? We can go over the practice tests." I looked at the stack of papers in my own hands. Without a word, I pulled out my lighter and set them on fire right there in the driveway. "Exams are coming," I said, watching the flames. "I'm not studying." My score ticked up to 1310. My sister's face was this perfect mask of disappointment, but the second I turned away, I caught the sly smile she couldn't quite hide. She had no idea… the real performance, the one I'd been rehearsing just for her, was finally about to begin.

Stephen was getting hit by a shoe in the morning by his mother and his father shouting at him "When were you planning to tell us that you are engaged to this girl" "I told you I don't even know her, I met her yesterday while was on my way to work" "Excuse me you propose to me when I saved you from drowning 13 years ago," said Antonia "What?!? When did you drown?!?" said Eliza, Stephen's mother "look woman you got the wrong person," said Stephen frustratedly "Aren't you Stephen Brown?" "Yes" "And your 22 years old and your birthdate is March 16, am I right?" "Yes" "And you went to Vermont primary school in Vermont" "Yes" "Well, I don't think I got the wrong person, you are my fiancé" ‘Who is this girl? where did she come from? how did she know all these informations about me? and it seems like she knows even more than that. Why is this happening to me? It's too dang early for this’ thought Stephen

"Aren't you afraid of me?" asked Max, who was still on top of Ivory in his transformed lycan form. "You can run if you want." "Run? I've never been afraid or run away. Let's finish this and see if it proves that what we're doing can free you from the Lycan curse." *** Based on the prophecy from her elder that Max should meet a silver-haired virgin girl, Ivory was the one who could free him from the Lycan curse that made him unable to make love with all women because every time he did, he would turn into a horrible beast. Unfortunately, the curse did not go away even though he and Ivory had made a union that made Max intend to eliminate Ivory. It was only then that Max was indeed a werewolf who would lead the Alsenic Pack, which was passed down from his grandfather. Another thing also found a bright spot, Ivory is a mermaid who is the last descendant of Poseidon and is the target of several races, such as wolves and vampires, for strength, immortality, and power. Being in the captivity of Benjamin, from the vampire race, who treats her like a queen but for the sake of getting satisfaction, Ivory survives and manages to break free and learns the fact that she is pregnant with three babies that are not known whether they belong to Max or Benjamin. But other problems come and go until her first love—Seth—is the cause of Ivory's meek character change into a strong and stubborn woman. . . Dear all readers ... Since I'm an Indonesian language-speaking author, I'll try my best to translate my work and deliver a nice story to you all. Hope you'll enjoy reading and love the story❤️ Happy reading, all❤️ *** Reach me on Discord: Kennie Re #4440

By day, Don Pope is the untouchable king of Cross City’s financial empire. By night, he is something far darker—an infamous mafia don whose enemies vanish before dawn. Ethan Cole never intended to cross paths with a monster like him. One quiet night drive across the city turns into a nightmare when Ethan is kidnapped by masked men and thrown into an underground cage beneath the most luxurious mansion in Cross City—Don Pope’s estate. When the Don himself descends to inspect the prisoners his men captured, something unexpected happens. The moment Don Pope looks into Ethan’s eyes, he stops walking. He was supposed to pass the cage. Instead, he orders the others released… except for Ethan. What begins as cruel possession soon spirals into something neither of them expected. Don becomes obsessed with the fiery captive who refuses to bow to him. Ethan swears he would rather die than submit to the ruthless mafia lord. But obsession is a dangerous thing. What starts with violence slowly becomes dependence. Hatred becomes something far more complicated. And in a city built on betrayal, blood, and power, the line between captor and lover begins to blur. As war erupts between rival mafia families and secrets about Ethan’s past begin to surface, Don Pope must choose between his empire and the one man who refuses to belong to him. Because some loves are not meant to exist, but some destinies are written in the blood.

He watched her for a long moment, the anger in his eyes unmistakable. She imagined he was thinking of ways to punish her, but nothing prepared her for what he said next. "Strip." It was one word, but she doubted if she heard him correctly the first time, was he really going to punish her? "What… what was that?" She asked innocently. "Strip, Nancy." "I won't." "So you refuse me, I see." he said it lightly, the evil smile still playing on his lips. "That will not stop me from having you though" "You won't." She said firmly "Won't I?" She had expected to arouse his anger tonight, but nothing prepared her for the icy rage that contorted his features and the resentment and coldness in his eyes. "Has he touched you yet?" Derek asked suddenly, his eyes still hard on her and his look ever so cold. "Depends on the kind of touch you mean," She replied in a soft, tempting voice, "He has touched me in certain ways. But you are my husband and I should not be telling you that.” "No," he returned coldly. "We are just master and slave, nothing else links us.” ***** Forced to marry against their will, Nancy must not only prove to Derek Lincoln that she was never his lost betrothed, but she must also prove to the parents of his real betrothed that she is not their daughter. But when a man is this beautiful and yet so arrogant, God knows loving him could not be so difficult. Except he is strongly involved with his mistress, who would give anything to have him, even if it meant killing his present wife. But was he worth it? Nay. To him, she is just a personal whore.

We all have our wildest dreams, don't we? We all have our regrets and pains in our life that made it so hard that it might have suffocated us at some point. Life is short. Take the risk or never. And when love arrives love and if it leaves, leave. Don't stay as I did.