Who Wrote Next To Normal Novels & Stories

She came to kill him. He was supposed to be her enemy. But the bond they built on lies might be the only real thing either of them has ever had. Zara Merrick has one mission: seduce the Alpha who murdered her sister, earn his trust, and drive a silver blade through his heart. She endures an agonizing ritual that rewires her very biology — altering her scent, implanting false recognition signals, creating an artificial mate bond designed to make the most powerful Alpha in the region believe she is his fated one. She walks into his territory like a weapon wearing a woman's face, and it works perfectly. Ryker Bloodmoon falls for it completely. Or so she thinks. Because Ryker has secrets too — secrets about the night Mia Merrick died, about what her sister really was, and about the truth The Covenant has been hiding from Zara for five years. And when his Beta runs her blood and the lie unravels, Ryker doesn't kill her. He keeps her. Now Zara is a prisoner in the fortress she came to destroy, hunted by the organization that sent her, and haunted by the possibility that everything she believed about her sister — about werewolves, about the war she dedicated her life to — was a carefully constructed lie. Worse, the fake mate bond is dissolving. And what's replacing it feels terrifyingly real.

"Casey, hurry up and pack. Tonight we will move!" "Why so suddenly, Mom? Where are we moving to?" "Your new father's house. I'm getting married to David next week. Your dream of having a family will come true. In fact, you will get the bonus of three handsome brothers." I don't argue. That same night I joined my mother and moved to my stepfather's house in a different state from where we live now. After a long journey, we finally arrived. David greeted us warmly. But, the beautiful dream I previously imagined must now turn into hell. I must be brother with my enemy! He is the young man who once humiliated me and who became my first love. What destiny is this?

YOLO! You only live once.That is my motto in life. I don't care about what other people would say and think about me. I am me. And others' opinions don't matter.I am Alexa Lopez, Alex for short. Everyone calls me by that name, including my parents. I am a proud lesbian and I am lucky that my parents accept me for who I am but sometimes my mom still wishes that I will wake up to my senses one day and meet a man.Me? Meeting a man? Yuck!I heard many times from my friends and some relatives that I look pretty. They said I have a good body and they are sure that if I am a straight girl, many boys will chase after me.But that will never happen. I am not pretty, I am handsome.I am 17 years old, still a teenager and young as they say but I am already mature. I already had 3 girlfriends in the past and all of them were head over heals at me. I can't blame them, I treated them nicely and I did my best to be a good partner for them, giving them gifts, accompanying them when they go shopping and help them with their studies. I sometimes even do their homework and their projects.I am the only child in my family and I must say we are financially stable. My dad is a lawyer and my mom is a dermatologist.I am currently a senior high school student in Mary Poppins International School and I am also one of the varsity players of the women's basketball team. I am quite famous I must say.It may seem that I have everything, but inside this tough person is still a fragile lady.

When I was seven years old, a handsome man Mom brought home gave me a box of mangoes. That day, Dad watched me happily eating the mangoes as he signed his name on the divorce agreement. Then, he jumped to his death. From that day on, mangoes became a lifelong nightmare for me. So, on our wedding day, I told my wife, Irene Johnson, "If you ever want a divorce, just give me a mango." She held me without saying a word. From that moment on, mangoes became forbidden for her as well. … On the fifth Christmas Eve after we got married, Irene's childhood sweetheart, Steven Carter, placed a mango on her desk. That same day, she announced that she was cutting ties with him and fired him from the company. That day, I felt that she was the woman destined for me. ... Six months later, I return from overseas after closing a billion-dollar deal. At the celebration dinner, Irene hands me a drink. After I drink half of it, Steven, the man who was kicked out of the company, stands behind me and grins. "Is the mango juice good?" he asks. I look at Irene in disbelief, but she is holding back a laugh. "Don't be mad. Steve insisted I play a joke on you. I didn't give you a mango, just a bottle of its juice. "But I think Steve is right. There's something wrong with you for not eating mangoes. Look at how much you enjoyed it just now!" she says. I keep a cold expression, raise my hand, and splash the remaining mango juice onto her face. Then, I turn and walk away. Some things are never a joke. Mangoes aren't, and neither is my decision to divorce.

“Are you a virgin?” It should have embarrassed her. Instead, the raw restraint in his eyes made her heart tremble. “Yes,” she whispered. “But don’t stop. Please.” …. "I have only three conditions," he stated, his voice as cold as the diamond on her finger. "First, I can’t stand clingy women. Second, falling in love with me is strictly forbidden. And third? Whoever we choose to sleep with is our own business." … Three years ago, Ashley Barton made a bargain she could never truly win. To secure her freedom, she buried her true identity and lived as an omega, all to make Alpha Rowan fall in love with her for who she was. On the night they were meant to complete their mating, Ashley walked into hell. Her best friend was tangled in the sheets with the man who was supposed to claim her. Ashley ran. Under the full moon, raw with grief and desperation, fate found her anyway. In the wilderness, she collided with a powerful Alpha, dangerous, dominant, and unreadable. Pain blurred into desire. The bond snapped into place. He marked her. Claimed her. Bound their souls together in blood and moonlight. By dawn, he was gone. Just the echo of his presence and the weight of his mark burned into her skin left. She was humiliated and cast out like trash. That was when Ashley broke. She went home, bowed her head, and accepted the arranged marriage she had once sworn to escape. Fate, however, was unkind. Her fiancé was the very Alpha who had claimed and marked her, yet when they met again, he did not recognize her at all. To him, she was a stranger. Instead, he offered her a one-year contract marriage, cold, controlled, and bound by rules meant to suffocate emotion.

Introduction My Alpha mate Ethan hated me for twelve years after his childhood sweetheart Ivy died. I tried everything to win him over but he would just sneer at me coldly. "I wish it had been you who died that day instead of her." When the rogue wolves attacked our territory, Ethan still threw himself in front of me. The silver blade meant for my heart pierced his chest instead. As his life slipped away, he stared at me with those piercing blue eyes, his voice barely a whisper. "If only... I had never met you." At the funeral, Ethan's parents—the former Alpha and his mate—wept uncontrollably. "I should have honored Ethan's choice to be with Ivy," his mother sobbed. "I never should have forced the mate bond between you and him!" The pack members surrounded me with accusing eyes and bitter words. "Alpha saved you three times! Three times!" one warrior snarled. "He was the best of us. Why couldn't it have been you who died?" Everyone regretted that Ethan had been bound to me as his mate. Even I regretted it. They drove me away from the funeral like a diseased animal. For three years, I howled my prayers to the Moon Goddess every night. Finally, the great Moon Goddess granted me something impossible—a second chance. I was back in the past. This time, I would cut every tie that bound Ethan and me together.

He slid the divorce papers across the table like I was nothing. Three years of marriage, three years of me thinking he loved me, gone because his first love was back. I walked away pregnant, alone, disappearing from his life without a trace. Years later, I raised my son, I've built my life from scratch, away from him, Until my estranged father dies. Sudden, I'm the heiress to a multi- billion-dollar empire. He learns about it, and now he's sorry, wants me back, and our son, realizing too late what he lost. But I didn't owe him. Not my heart. Not my son. Not my life. Then Maxwell Kingston appears with a deal I can't refuse: a contract to protect my son, secure my empire, and put a claim on me in ways I've never expected. Every look, every word, every touch sets me on fire. Now I'm stuck between the man begging for redemption and the one who already owns me. So who do I choose before everything I've fought so hard for burns to ashes?

I am the young lady of the vampire house of Kaelaris. Having reached marriageable age, I chose, from a stack of portraits, the eldest son of the human family Norefax. My family indulged my preference and arranged our engagement, awaiting the day of my wedding. I do not drink red wine, but for the sake of human ceremony, I secretly went out—without telling my family—to select a rare century-aged vintage, intending to prepare it for the engagement ritual. The woman beside me glanced at the cabinet I had pointed to and immediately instructed the sales associate, “That bottle looks quite fine. Let me have a look.” Without hesitation, the associate rudely brushed me aside and handed the bottle straight to her. A chill entered my gaze as I spoke, “There is an order to everything. I selected that bottle first. What you’re doing is hardly proper.” She looked me up and down with open disdain and let out a mocking laugh. “This bottle costs sixteen thousand six hundred dollars. Dressed like that, I doubt you even qualify to smell it.” “I am Ethan Norefax’s stepmother. In New York’s Upper East Side, so-called ‘rules’ have always been decided by the Norefax family.” What a coincidence—Ethan was precisely my fiancé, and the very reason I wanted to buy that bottle. I dialed his number at once and said evenly, “Your stepmother has taken the bottle of wine I reserved for our engagement. How do you intend to handle this?”

I've died on my wedding day. When I'm in the middle of getting cruelly tortured by the thugs, my parents, older brother, and my fiance are all comforting my younger adopted sister, Arianna Capuano, who's bawling her eyes out. Before I die, I've called them for help. But Diego Atzori, my fiance who's the next Don of the Atzori family, sounds extremely angry at me when he picks up the call. "Carlotta Capuano, Arianna's life is more important than our marriage! Stop putting on an act just to attract attention!" The call goes dead. My life is also entering its countdown. I can only lie in my own puddle of blood, my body broken and mutilated, until I stop breathing entirely. No one can find me at home. They think I'm just throwing a tantrum because the wedding has gotten canceled. Perhaps I've chosen to run away from the altar just so I can attract their attention. What they don't know is the fact that I've never left home. In fact, I've died in the basement of my own house. I died right beneath their feet.

Everyone loved my older sister. When the novel I wrote shot to popularity, she got jealous and suddenly proclaimed that she wanted to be a popular author too. My older brother, who was the editor-in-chief, immediately announced that I plagiarized my sister's story at my book signing and she ended up becoming the genius author while I got cyberbullied so much that I was too scared to leave the house. After I got married to a young heir from high society and lived a happy life, my sister told me that she had a crush on him for years and wanted to be his bride at least once in her lifetime. He did not even think twice about divorcing me and holding the wedding of the century with my sister. My family was afraid that I would sabotage their relationship, so they made me leave the country. However, my sister did not think that I was miserable enough. She came for me outside the country and pushed me down the stairs. I was lying in a pool of blood when my mother rebuked me, "Did you say something that made your sister unhappy again?" That was how I died in despair. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day my brother accused me of plagiarism.