World Without End Book

After being reborn, the very first thing I do is schedule a hysterectomy. In my past life, my boyfriend's first love started a livestream channel to build her image as a brilliant OB-GYN. The moment she saw me vomiting, she deliberately claimed on livestream that I was pregnant. Right then and there, my boyfriend insisted that he had never even slept with me. I tried to explain, but she handed me medication to help sustain the pregnancy. She even told me to take care of myself and take them on time. Viewers made fun of my boyfriend, saying I had cheated on him. Furious, he broke up with me. Later, my personal information leaked, and countless men began harassing me for hookups. I couldn't take it anymore and jumped to my death. Meanwhile, his first love rode the fame wave of her brilliant OB-GYN persona, gaining followers and being idolized by her fans. But this time, I don't even have a uterus. Let's see how she plans to fake a pregnancy scandal now.

“Amara Cross, are you trying to drive me insane? I agree to go to a club and find you swaying like a pro whore, throwing your ass at hungry eyes, and you are proud of it too.” His grip crushed my arms, sharp and painful. My hand slipped between my thighs, pressing hard, pain mixing with heat, and he did not notice. But when he saw my bloodshot eyes, he let out a hot, frustrated breath. “Amara, are you drunk?” I nodded, confused. Tears spilled like a flood, driven by that brutal pulse burning deep inside me. “Dean Dorian, I am very drunk.” His eyes widened. Then they darkened even more. “What nonsense are you saying, little girl? What did you take to end up like this?” I was shaking. A soft moan escaped me as my fingers pressed harder. I could not hold it in anymore. I covered my mouth, then dropped my hand, speaking to him in miserable pleasure. “Dean Dorian, touch me.” I whispered it, begging. His eyes, drowned in darkness, searched my face like a man looking for salvation. Everything stopped when his hand settled on the back of my head. He leaned in and crushed his mouth against mine, hungry and savage. ------------------- Amara Cross did not enter university looking for love. She entered to survive. A quiet scholarship student with no one behind her, carrying a fragile past, dreaming of one thing only. Safety. But on a dark night, on a road with no mercy, a man saves her. A man who was never supposed to be part of her life. Dorian Vale. The university dean. Powerful. Cold. Controlling. Dangerous. What starts as silent rescue turns into attention. Then protection. Then obsession with no rules. He knows everything. Watches her. Decides for her.

Derrick Caldwell once promised me that on the night of our pack's founding feast, he would announce that we'd been married for eight years. However, on the big day, his childhood friend, Lilith Sterling, takes my place. She sits beside him—the spot reserved for his Luna. The warriors say, "We heard you have a mate with whom you've been married for eight years, Alpha. Is this her?" Derrick smiles without denying it. He silently allows their assumption to stand. I want him to explain this to me, but he merely says, "You may have helped me become the Alpha, but your lowly birth is nothing compared to Lilith's noble status. As my mate, you need to be more tolerant." I don't argue with him. Instead, I turn and leave the pack he and I built together. Later, I start my own pack and turn it into the largest one in the federation. Derrick stands among the crowd during a ceremony where the Alpha King confers a medal of honor to me. He proudly tells anyone who will listen that I'm his wife. I act like I don't see him, and his eyes turn red with desperation.

Six years after marrying Rhiannon Westley, she takes a lover. He's like a puppy—timid and clingy. He flinches at the slightest raised voice, so Rhiannon never loses her temper in front of him. But when he acts up in front of me, Rhiannon snaps. She's furious, and she gives him a harsh scolding. The next day, he sends me a photo of his neck covered in red marks. "Zane, Ms. Westley is so fierce..."

Jeremy Watson is a normal 16 year old who's life suddenly takes a turn for the worse after a shady deal goes wrong. He becomes a mutant with aerokinesis and must join forces with new,upcoming heroes to stop Master Xersius, an alien who plans to be the most powerful being at any cost and conquer the human race. Can this goofy teenager who still ties his shoe laces wrong save the world? Is he up for what is ahead, or will it all overwhelm him to the extent he loses his own life? What doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger. Watches as his experiences help him grow into a better and stronger person

When Alyssa's boyfriend dumped her after a five-year-long relationship, little did she know that she was in for a toe-curling slow burn romance that turns into a wild ride with another guy from another time. Through a bizarre phenomenon, she wakes up as Allena, a Celtic tribe chief's daughter in ~200 BCE. With secrets to keep, adventures to go on, and a man to love, a timeless heartwarming love story spanning tens of centuries unfolds as the tides of destiny bring two fated, star-crossed lovers together.

Past memories, broken promises, and past tragedy. Assassins, Royalties, Commoners and Criminals. Silver and Gold. Wealth and Poverty. A crime that continues to chain and haunt them from the past. Unintentional mistake done by anger. An investigation to closed a case way back on year 2004. A Princess to give justice on. And a culprit to pay.

The night my in-laws were rushed to the hospital after a car accident, I hurried over to handle the situation. At the payment counter, I swiped my card—only to find that the joint account I shared with my husband had a mere two dollars left. I called my husband, Zarrick Thompson, over and over again. But he never picked up. It wasn't until later that I learned the truth—he had taken our money to celebrate his first love's birthday. Desperate, I borrowed seventy thousand from a friend to save my in-laws. But after they recovered, they flat-out denied everything. My husband, meanwhile, made no attempt to hide his relationship with her. He wanted me gone. To force me into a divorce, he went as far as setting me up—staging an affair, taking photos of me being humiliated. Then he used them to threaten me. Either I walked away with nothing, shouldering all our debts, or he would ruin me completely. I worked endlessly, day and night, to pay it all off. Until, one winter, I collapsed in a frozen alley and never got up again. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the accident.

Given a new chance at life, upon learning of my husband's supposed death, the first thing I did was to register him as dead. In my previous life, after my husband, Jonah Lloyd, learned that his elder brother, Noah, had died in an accident, he resolved to assume his brother's identity and provide for his widowed sister-in-law. All because the young widow from the city couldn't withstand the gossip of the village. As for me, coming from humble origins, even without my husband, I could survive on my own. When I heard the news, I truly believed that my husband had died in an accident. I was determined to raise our daughter with all my heart. That year, during a blizzard, while his family huddled together and celebrated in the warmth, I was out there fighting over the money after selling my body. I bled out and died in the harsh, cold night. My daughter, Tina, left waiting for me to bring back good, starved to death in the bitter winter. Only after death did I learn that my husband hadn't died. He had spent his entire life in his brother's name, protecting the widow, living to see his children and grandchildren grow old around him. And now, reopening my eyes, I had returned to the very day my husband died in an accident.

In the eighth year of helping Keith Hunter pay off his debts, I was diagnosed with stomach cancer. I tested the waters and asked him, half joking, "If I got cancer, would you save me?" He laughed, saying I was overthinking it. Then he added firmly, "If it ever came to that, I would sell my blood to pay for your treatment." I lay awake all night, tossing and turning, still feeling like I couldn't drag him down with me. Before taking a sleeping pill, a notification popped up on my phone about a social media post. [How do I dump an older woman who paid off my debts for eight years without too much drama?] The profile picture looked eerily like Keith's silhouette from behind. He wrote, [Eight years ago, my family went bankrupt. She stuck with me, living off dry toast and squeezing into a rented apartment. She helped me pay back over 600 thousand dollars in debt. [Back then, I thought she was innocent and cute. Now, I feel like she's just a materialistic woman putting on an act. [Last month, she even asked whether I would save her if she got cancer. How does someone even ask that? [Obviously, she was trying to get money out of me. Good thing I didn't tell her that my family recovered three years ago. [Now, my family has arranged a fiancée for me. She's the daughter of a publicly listed company. [I want to cut things off with my girlfriend, but I'm afraid she'll cling to me. After all, she wasted a lot of her youth on me.] By the time I finished reading, I had crushed the stomach cancer diagnosis in my hand into a wrinkled mess.