Why He Purple

Melannie couldn't remember the last time she felt something. While Ace remembers every sting and ache. Both of their chaotic worlds collide and through every moment they share, one starts to feel and the other starts to heal. The only thing standing in between is that it's a cycle of pain, and no one knows how to get out.

Clayton Amos finally agrees to marry me during my fifth year as the antagonist of a novel. On the day of my wedding, the chandelier in the middle of the hall suddenly snaps and falls. At the most critical moment, he shoves me aside and runs over to protect Gladys Dawson, the protagonist of the novel, and his first love. Clayton's arm is slashed as a result, and blood pours out of the wound, dyeing his pristine white suit red. Meanwhile, Gladys remains unharmed in his arms. I hold a hand against the bleeding wound on my neck and finally accept the fact that Clayton never loved me. This is when the system appears and asks me, "Hailey Paltrow, would you like to abort your mission now?" I nod in silent response. "Since he's going to end up losing all four of his limbs and ultimately wish for death, I'll let him have it."

To save my husband, I drank until my stomach bled. Despite making it to the hospital, no one would treat me—all because he, a prominent surgeon, forbade anyone from attending to his own wife. In a previous life, he had saved me, a deed that fate cruelly repaid: the same day he saved me, his beloved, Lily Evans, tragically died during surgery. Consumed by regret, he lamented, "If I hadn't saved you, she might still be alive." On my birthday, in a twisted celebration, he intoxicated both me and our daughter. In a horrifying turn, he used his surgical skills to ruthlessly stab us both. As I lay bleeding, I begged for our daughter's life, pleading with him to spare her, his biological child. He coldly justified his brutality by claiming that being tied to me caused him to miss his chance with his true love. Fueled by a desperate need to protect my daughter, I fought him ferociously. He inflicted thirty-eight merciless wounds on me before turning his murderous intent towards our child. As I faced death, my last sight was of him, his decision clear as he once again chose his lost love over his living family.

He forgot their vows. She remembers every lie. After a brutal accident leaves Callum Thorne with no memory of his wife, Iris is forced to fight for a love that only she remembers. Trapped in the Thorne family estate, surrounded by people who want her gone, Iris is determined to win back the man she married—even if he’s no longer the man he was. But when fragments of the past start to resurface, Callum begins to suspect his accident wasn’t so accidental. The more he uncovers, the more he questions everything—especially the woman he’s drawn to but can’t trust. In a world of wealth, control, and buried secrets, love isn’t safe. And the truth might cost them both more than their marriage. Vows He Doesn’t Remember is a dark, gripping romance about memory, manipulation, and the fight to reclaim what’s real—before it's too late.

Katherine Azuretha Garcia is not your typical high school student. Naniniwala siya na kung sino pa ang mga taong minamahal mo, siya rin ang sasakit sa iyo nang sobra. She proves that by what her parents and ex-boyfriend did to her. They betrayed her. They broke the trust she gave in. Naniniwala siya na lahat ng lalaki ay manloloko. She's right. Her ex-boyfriend was a playboy indeed. Pinagpustahan siya. Ginawang flavor of the month. Niloko siya nang harap-harapan. After what she witnessed, magtitiwala pa ba siya sa mga lalaki? No. But not until this half-Japanese, half-Filipino arrogant rushed into her life. Ginulo nito ang paniniwala at maging ang buhay niya. Siya na ba iyong lalaking makakatanggap ng sikretong matagal niya ng itinatago? Pero... paano kung coincidence lang pala ang lahat na pagkakatagpo nila? Na hindi siya iyong taong nakalaan para sa kanya? Because there are so many reasons why they can't be together. -

My billionaire husband suffered from chronic insomnia for years. Only the sleep balm I made could help him sleep. On the night of our seventh wedding anniversary, his childhood sweetheart poured a basin of scalding water over the old camphor tree in our garden. I wept and tried to save the tree as she apologized, “I didn’t know you used its leaves to make the sleep balm.” My husband gently comforted her and ordered his men to tie me to the tree trunk instead. “What a precious tree. You’ll spend the rest of your days with it!” With my wrist fractured as a result, I filed for divorce immediately. A month later, my husband was unable to sleep late one night. He stood in the garden and stared at the withered camphor tree.

I'm seven months along with my second pregnancy when a truck almost hits me. My husband threatens the doctor like a maniac. "I'll make all of you retire prematurely if anything goes wrong with my wife!" Before I enter the operating theater, I can't help thinking he's being too anxious. The truck merely brushed past me and made me fall. He doesn't need to be so panicked. However, when I open my eyes again, I find that my belly is flat. I crawl out of bed in a panic and head to the door, where I overhear Lucian Jacobe talking to the doctor. "Mrs. Jacobe wasn't in a major accident, sir. The child could've been saved. Why did you insist on aborting it? It was a baby boy, too." "Jenny will cry if she finds out about me having children with another woman. How can I bear to see her upset? It's not my first time doing something like this, anyway."

To save the vampire clan, I slept with my crush, Stefan Ferrano. Stefan had always been cold and distant, but that night, his response was fiery. He ignored the fact that I was inexperienced and took me with wild, unrestrained passion. Everything unraveled when my blood servant, Stella Luciado, brought me fresh blood and Stefan found out. Like a man possessed, he tore off all my clothes and dragged me into the sunlight. “So even the vampire queen is afraid of sunlight? Do you know what sort of torture your kind are enduring right now? But no pain compares to what I felt losing my sister because of you and your kind.” For five years, he held my clan’s safety over my head. He locked me in a sunroom and found new ways every day to torment me in bed. The day I gave birth to his child, he married Stella. Stefan called my child a bastard and forced me to watch him and Stella sleep together. When Stella was unhappy, he bled me so she could bathe in my blood. He even painted with my blood and made me dance undressed in the sun. He tortured me but never let me die, using specially made drugs to keep me alive. A vampire who had offered their ancestral blood but didn't turn a human into a vampire within five years would end up dead. I had five days left to live. Finally, I didn't have to keep my secret anymore.

"You can't walk away," he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. "Not now." I never should've followed him. I knew it the second I saw his dark, predatory eyes lock onto mine across the bar. But I couldn't stop myself. I was drawn to him, to the danger simmering beneath his cool, controlled exterior. "One night," I told myself, "just one night." But it wasn't just a night. It was a raw, thrilling ride into darkness, where he took control in ways l'd never imagined. "Do you like it when I make you beg?" he growled, and I did. God, I did. By morning, I was tangled in his sheets, marked by his touch, my body still aching from the things he'd done to me. But when I opened my eyes and saw his face in the cold light of day, reality hit like a punch to the gut. The man l'd spent the night with, the one who made me surrender in every way possible, wasn't just a sexy stranger. He was a mafia kingpin-one of the most feared men in the city. And me? I'm the future district attorney, the one assigned to take him down. "You belong to me now," he said, his voice a deadly promise. And as much as I wanted to deny it, I knew he was right. But what happens when the lines between law and lust blur beyond recognition?

I loved Jason Lacroix for six years, but I never told him. I was his adopted sister. We weren’t related. I was also his assistant, responsible for everything in his life. I did not know who exposed my feelings toward him in public. I could never forget the icy glares in his eyes. “Madeline, you should know your place.” He thought I was mentally unstable. He listened to Camila Fisher, his first love, and sent me to a mental asylum. After I was discharged, he regretted his decision.