Why Might A Novel Writer Choose To Use Dialect Novels & Stories

On our seventh wedding anniversary, my husband, Nate Anderson, told me that he had offended a mob boss. On the same night, he sent our daughter, Poppy Anderson, and I to go into hiding in the desert. Halfway through the journey, I recalled that I had forgotten to pack my daughter’s asthma medication. Hence, I quickly went back. However, I saw Nate celebrating with his friends in our mansion. “Nate, aren’t you worried that Lila and Poppy are going to starve in the remote area that you’ve sent them to?” Nate said indifferently, “Don’t worry about it. I’ve repackaged the unsold dog food from Emma’s shop and sent it to them. They won’t starve.” Emma leaned her head against Nate’s chest.

(18+ Explicit Content) Buy me.” My voice rings clear through the room. "Buy me and I will serve you until my purpose is through. Buy me and save me from death.” Dante merely laughs at me, "Why should I save you? I'm no hero, girl. You've stepped into a 's den and you're committing yourself to me.” I don't budge, fighting through the urge to cower before him. “I'll give you one chance to walk away, Atwood girl. If you don't, you will be mine and no one can save you from me.” But that’s exactly what I need. Not a hero, but a monster who could tear the world down and bring my sister back to me. I would sacrifice anything for her, including my freedom. Jean Atwood was at the top of

[YOU HAVE TRANSMIGRATED INTO A VILLAINESS FATED TO DIE.] I was supposed to obsess over the Alpha King, scheme against the heroine, and meet my end at the execution block. Instead, I rewrote the story. I chose Pierre Ashbourne—the neglected second male lead I once pitied as a reader—and spent three years helping him rebuild his dying pack, believing I had finally changed my fate. Then he abandoned me at our mating ceremony for his first love, the heroine. Now, the system has given me only one way home, restore the original ending by pushing the heroine back into the arms of the ruthless Alpha King, Hades. But the more I try to complete the story, the more these leads are get

My husband, an Army regimental commander, was killed in action. Before his body was even cold, I didn't hesitate. I filed for his death certificate and notified the Army, the Social Security Administration, and our bank. Then, three days later—on the very day his twin brother married his childhood sweetheart—I moved out, changed the locks, and remarried quietly at the courthouse, taking my son and the full line-of-duty death benefits with me. To everyone else, I was heartless. Cold. I let them curse me. I just looked into my “brother-in-law's” bloodshot eyes and felt a quiet, cruel satisfaction. Only I knew the truth. In my last life, I discovered the body sent home wasn't my husband's a

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

Saraid is your average witch hidden in a small town in Alabama. A blind date set up by her best friend and faerie, Wendy sends Saraid's ife spiraling out of control as the evening ends with her magically bound to Liam Maddox, a man with a secret all his own. Liam Maddox, born and raised in Ireland used to be one of the highest-ranking warriors of the Guardians of the Celtic Coven. An unforeseen attack left him cast out of the ranks for what the witches he protected called impure blood. Hired in secret to locate the true heir to the throne of the Celtic coven, Liam moves to the states where he meets Saraid. The one whom he has been tasked to find. A simple date flips their entire w

"You're going to meet her someday." I whispered. "Olivia." I forced a smile and lifted my head. "And it's fine. I'll be rooting for you all the way." He cut me off with a soft "Liv." I blinked away my tears. "No, listen to me. We need to accept that this won't last forever. You could find her on your next trip out of town, and I'll be forgotten." I swallowed the lump formed in my throat. "I just hope we'll still be friends." His face twisted in pain as he rested his forehead against mine, his hands trembling as he cups my cheeks. "You'll always be my best friend." "And you'll always be mine." I pressed my lips against his, needing to taste him, to feel his lips on mine, to

Samantha Sonnet, my wife who's also a hospital dean, decides to replace my name with Nicholas Spark, the intern's name on the surgical atlas that I've spent the last three years drafting without my permission. That atlas is then published. I burn the only original draft of the atlas in front of the entire department. Samantha blames me for being brash. "He's just leaving his name there so that he can ensure a smoother project closeout." After dusting the ashes away, I reply, "My academic achievements will always be mine. Since someone else's name is printed on my achievements, that means they are no longer pure." Later at midnight, Samantha hands me a glass of warm milk in an attempt to

"It hurts! It hurts me more! Don't you understand, that your savage sister ran away. Taking the money and jewelry I gave her," Arka snapped and then released the hold turning to stare at Mona's reddened cheeks. "That's impossible, Brother-in-Law," Mona said shaking her head, her knees felt weak and she fell to the floor. "I didn't think it was possible either, but this is what happened!" Arka snarled, kicking Mona to her back and causing the corner of her lip to bleed. "Go to your room, or you'll die by my hands right now!" Arka ordered, making Mona try to get up and step into the room while sobbing with pain.

For ten years, Seraphina Ashford fought through the zombie apocalypse, sacrificing everything to protect the people she loved. In the end, the reward for her loyalty was betrayal. Her husband pushed her into a zombie den. Her best friend stood beside him, smiling. Her mother-in-law watched without remorse. As thousands of zombies closed in, Seraphina wrapped her arms around her unborn child and made one final wish. "If there's a second life... I'll never trust you again. I'll save my parents. And I'll make every one of you pay." When she opens her eyes, she's no longer dying. She's back in her college dorm—three years before the apocalypse. This time, she isn't