Y'all Got Good Writing Novels & Stories

My mother is hospitalized due to a terminal illness. She's in urgent need of a kidney transplant to save her life. I'm the only one who can perform the surgery, but I give the kidney to a stranger. My father and husband get on their knees before me on the day of the surgery. They beg me to save my mother. However, I shrug and say, "I can't do anything about this. A life is a life, regardless of who the person is. This is what she gets for coming late—death is waiting for her."

Sandra was known as the most beautiful woman in the country. A daughter of one of the most influential and powerful businessman in the world. She's everything a man could ask for. She's every woman dying to be like and would kill for just to be in her shoes. But her life is not as perfect as square as people think. Despite everything she has in her golden plate, there's still one thing she badly wanted to have but couldn't get. Phoenix. The elusive faceless genius composer who seemed to hate her.

“Stay away from me.” If he didn't want to agree to this divorce, I was going to make him. Killian, however, staggered, brushing his thumb over his wound. At the sight of his blood he burst into laughter. “My dear wife. You have taken up a new habit.” Rolling his tongue over the bottom of his lips, he nodded attentively. “Bite, stab, hit me, but you are mine.” All the energy drained as I panted. “I hate you.” He smiled. “Good. You feel something for me." *** On the last day of her mate’s burial ritual, Freya was executed by Alpha Killian's mistress. She finds herself in heartbreak when she discovers that her mate had left her with nothing—not even her life. Ten years of marriage erased, as if it never happened. After death, she is reborn, three months into her marriage. Determined to avoid future disaster, she filed for divorce against her executioner. Unexpectedly, her mate—Alpha Killian bluntly rejects her request. He is her ruin, yet she is drawn to him. In this life, things seem out of place because her mate is obsessed. Anything she wants, he wants to give…..even his life. Trapped between trauma, desire, and revenge, Freya faces impossible choices. Reconcile with the man who could destroy or save her? Give in to the devoted Gamma who has never left her side? Or… claim them both. Sometimes, one life isn’t enough.

When I was seven months pregnant, my husband, Brandon Adkins, got into a car accident. I held my belly and rushed over as fast as I could, but by the time I got there, his body was already mangled beyond recognition. The shock hit so hard that I started bleeding right there. At my lowest point, it was the eldest son of the Elledges who got me to the hospital and handled Brandon's funeral. Three years later, Brandon showed up out of nowhere, holding his first love. He pulled me into a tight embrace, voice soft as he explained, "I'm sorry. Alanna was terminally ill. Her last wish was to travel the world. I was afraid you wouldn't agree, so I faked my death. "Now that her wish has been fulfilled, we can go back to the way things were." I looked into his affectionate eyes, then shoved him away in disgust. "Too bad for you. In the three years you were gone, I got engaged to someone else."

My husband, who's a negotiation expert, allows his intern to recklessly anger some criminals. It causes me, the hostage, to suffer severe injuries in the explosion, and my right leg breaks because of it. Yet, my husband once again issues a letter of forgiveness for her. "My wife, as a reporter, ignored warnings and forced contact with the criminals to get the scoop. The main responsibility lies with her. Kimberly, being a newcomer, should not bear major fault." I don't cry or make a scene. I simply pull out a divorce agreement. However, he sneers at me. "I know you're just jealous and want me to comfort you, but don't cross the line." For the past three years, I've brought up the topic of divorce 47 times, and each time, he treats it like I'm just throwing a tantrum. But it's different this time. His name has already been signed on this divorce agreement. As long as I add my signature to it, it will take effect immediately.

On the day of the crash, I called Enzo Vitale ninety-nine times on the emergency channel. On the hundredth call, his Consigliere finally picked up. "Don Enzo has already used family resources to escort Miss Moretti to a private hospital," he said. "Her condition…isn’t good. Don asked me to tell you not to disturb him again." But that was not the worst part. When I woke up, my baby was gone. The doctor said the accident was too severe and they could not save the child. Then I heard the truth. “Chiara is carrying my child,” Enzo said. “Her last wish is to have a child before she goes. I gave her that. But this must stay between us. Alessia cannot know.” “We had no choice,” my mother Rosalina said, her voice flat. “Chiara doesn't have long. We want her last days to be peaceful.” “Alessia will understand,” my father Alberto said. “She's always been reasonable. She'll see this is about giving a dying woman her final wish.” They were comforting a dying woman. My child was dead. But all they cared about was Chiara's baby. I stumbled away. Chiara stood at the end of the hallway and smiled at me. “I am not dying,” she whispered. “I just want everything you have.” I picked up my phone and dialed a number. “Professor Luciano,” I said quietly. “I've changed my mind. I am ready to join your closed medical research program.” The woman who once begged for love had died with her child.

Eight years ago, a night of drunken recklessness left me carrying Grayson Ulrich's child. But from that moment on, he began to hate both me and our daughter. He never allowed her to call him "Dad." He wouldn't let me step into his study, either. Because inside that study, every inch of space was filled with traces of another woman—Sandra Wright, the ex-fiancée who had once left him for freedom and happiness, who had gone abroad to marry a rich man. She was the one Grayson could never forget. The one he still loved. On our eighth anniversary, Sandra returned. That night, Grayson got drunk for the first time in years. He held our daughter in his arms and wept until his eyes were red. My daughter looked at me, bewildered. "Mom, why is Uncle crying?" I held back my tears and told her softly, "Because he is very happy. The person he loves has finally come back." Then I said, "So, Mommy's taking you away—so we won't disturb him and the woman he loves, okay?"

I’d been in love with Cassian Cross—my brother’s best friend, the one and only mafia boss in the NYC—for as long as I could remember. On the night of my twentieth birthday, my brother promised me a surprise. I didn’t expect that surprise to be a very drunk, very kissable Cassian. One reckless night. One baby boy. Cassian agreed to marry me after giving birth. But the day I gave birth to Leo, Cassian said nothing. He just packed up and vanished to France for nearly five years. Then he returned with Alessia. His first love. And when she saw Leo and me, she ran away and disappeared. After that, Cassian never left my side. Like he was trying to be the man I needed all along, that we were finally going to have our chance. But fairytales are lies wrapped in pretty paper. On Leo’s sixth birthday, we were driving to dinner. The brakes failed. The car spun onto the highway, flames licking at the engine. Cassian got out. And then he locked the door. “If it weren’t for you, Alessia would still be by my side. Now? It’s your turn to suffer.” It wasn’t until that moment I understood—Cassian had never loved me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at my twenties birthday. Cassian was in my bed, exactly where I’d left him in the past. This time, I didn’t hesitate. I ran. And on my way out, I made the call I should’ve made the first time. To Alessia.

Hannah Smith is a doting wife to her Billionaire business tycoon husband Xander Miller. To everyone’s eyes, she is a gold digger, a person who got lucky to get in bed and get pregnant by the cold-hearted Billionaire. Little did everyone know Hannah's existence in Xander's world saved him from the scandal caused by his first love 3 years ago but instead of giving Hannah--his wife the love, and respect she deserves, he treated her like a servant. And the moment, his first love returned to the country he threw divorce papers to his devoted wife. Hannah accepted the inevitable end of their loveless marriage wholeheartedly but when she was threatened with losing her child she was forced to fight back. Fueled with rage and memory of the abuse she experienced from her ex-husband and in-laws. Hannah vowed to seek vengeance and bring chaos to the most influential family in Texas.

Vincenzo Moretti was Stonehaven’s youngest financial titan— a tech mogul commanding a multibillion-dollar empire, gracing the covers of business magazines as a modern legend. But only a select few knew the truth: he was also the ruthless Don controlling the East Coast mafia. To him, wealth and power were mere chips in a game. And I? I was just another pawn used to stabilize a fragile family alliance. In our ten-year marriage, he slept with my friends, my coworkers… every single person I once trusted. Then one morning, as I took our one-month-old baby for a routine checkup, Sienna Newton, his latest mistress, ran me down with her car. The baby screamed endlessly. I begged her to take us to the hospital, and when Vincenzo arrived, he looked at me with cold disdain. “Isabella,” he sneered, “when did you learn to stage accidents? “Even if you died here, I wouldn’t bat an eye.” Then he took Sienna’s hand and walked away without a backward glance. By the time I was rushed to the hospital, the child in my arms had suffocated. Upon hearing the news, my mother suffered a heart attack. She didn’t survive. I slipped into a coma for two days. When I finally woke up, I found out that Vincenzo never visited. Instead, his father, Renato Moretti, the true king of the Moretti empire, stood by my bedside. I looked at him calmly and said, “Let me go. Whatever I owed your family, I’ve repaid in full with two lives.” Later, that same Don who had once looked down on me knelt before me, begging me to come home. But I was no longer the woman who waited, silent and broken, for his change of heart. I was the Don’s wife who turned away and never looked back.