232 Book(s) Related to zin never dies

My best friend Tiffany was obsessed with those novels where a mafia don spoils his woman rotten.

She was convinced she was the type of girl who could make a ruthless boss go soft, so she went after Vincent, the heir of a crime family, and got him.

His bodyguards, his dirty money, even the way he told her not to ask questions and just sit tight. She read all of it as devotion. And of course she had to drag me into it too, always with the same excuse: it was for my own good.

Last time around, her mess got me killed. Vincent's enemies mistook me for one of his people, and I died in a shootout that had nothing to do with me.

The second the blade opened my throat, all I could think about was her holding up a bloody knife, grinning, showing it off to me like a trophy.

"Margot, look. He gave me this. It means we're official now."

I remember feeling disgusted. I never thought that same knife would end up slitting my throat.

Blood pooled across the street while she hid in Vincent's arms, screaming, hands over her eyes. Later I heard her crying to someone, saying it wasn't her fault, that I just had bad luck.

I died inside her little romance fantasy. A nobody side character, wiped off the page without a second thought.

Then I opened my eyes, and I was back. Back to the afternoon it all started.

The day my all-powerful wife personally handed me over to the mob's basement, she was shielding my identical twin brother, furiously accusing me of destroying his ability to carry on the family line.
To compensate for my brother's "trauma," my parents stood by and did nothing. Using her influence, my wife pressured me to take his place at a black-market clinic, testing a lethal drug.
They thought I was just going to suffer some physical hardship, that after enduring these two weeks, everything would be happily resolved.
But they didn't know I had already been poisoned by my brother. I was dying.
I died in agony on the cold operating table. As my body was being gnawed and rotted by rats, they were happily vacationing by the sea.
Only when the lies were exposed did my wife kick down the hidden door. Holding my maggot-infested, decaying flesh, she wept until she vomited blood, then went mad and swallowed a bullet. My parents watched their family shattered and wept on their knees.

My brother Soren is a figure skating prodigy. Every dollar in our house, every hour, every scrap of attention — all his.
Me? I'm the kid who doesn't need to be seen.
The night before Nationals, I told my mom my stomach hurt so bad I could barely stand. She said I was making trouble. Dad told me to take a painkiller and tough it out. Then they loaded up the car and drove two hundred miles to watch Soren skate.
They didn't come home until Sunday night. By then, I'd been dead for over a day.
I called her. Again and again. She had her phone on airplane mode.
Now I'm a ghost, drifting behind their car on the highway home. They're laughing, complaining I didn't even text Soren a congratulations.
I wonder what their faces will look like when they walk through that door.

I think I'm dead.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself standing in an abandoned amusement park, and my body was sitting on that slowly turning carousel.

I was only ten years old. I don't know how I died.

Detective Sarah, the blonde officer, promised to find the truth. So I followed her, watching her peel away layer after layer of lies—

In my diary, I wrote down all my fears and all my waiting.

On the phone, Mom sent that video of me laughing.

In the autopsy report, evidence of long-term abuse filled every page.

Mom had been saving money for three years, saying she'd take me away. That afternoon she picked me up from school and said, "We're really leaving this time."

Then what happened? Why did I die at the amusement park? Why was Mom's first reaction after my death not to call the police, but to—

I thought Mom came to save me.

Until I saw the text message she sent...

The day I get diagnosed with stage four lung cancer, I can finally stop selling plasma.

For five years, I thought I was paying for the fire that killed my parents and son, left my brother disabled. Selling plasma, joining drug trials, doing the worst jobs imaginable, all to pay back a debt that wasn't even real.

The doctor says I have a few weeks left. I clutch the diagnosis report and head home to tell them.

The moment I push open the door, I see my parents in the kitchen, the ones who supposedly died in the fire. My brother, who was supposed to be in a wheelchair, stands there raising a glass, laughing with my husband.

My brother shrugs like it's nothing. "The broken leg was fake the whole time. You were the only one hurt in the fire. We just wanted to teach you a lesson, make you appreciate things."

"We were going to tell you eventually." My husband pats my shoulder. "Go apologize to Vanessa. Stop giving her a hard time."

"All the money you gave us went to Vanessa," Dad says. "That's what you get for throwing your bio-daughter status in her face."

I touch the diagnosis in my pocket. Everything was a lie. The only truth is that I'm dying.

After three years of agonizing IVF, I was forced into three abortions. The reason? My mafia in-laws’ pet bird stared at my belly and shrieked, "End it."
Even when I was carrying healthy twins, my own parents held me down and forced abortion pills down my throat. My husband—the man I once took a bullet for—watched coldly. "Listen to the bird. Abort."
Lying in a pool of blood, I finally discovered the horrific truth. There was no "sacred bird." My marriage, my ruined womb, and all the IVF tortures were actually part of a terrifying conspiracy.
On my fourth pregnancy, the bird finally decreed, "Keep it!"
As the whole family treated me like a queen and rejoiced to welcome their precious heir, I quietly walked into the operating room.
Armed with lethal evidence, I crashed their grand succession ceremony.
You want an heir? I’ll send you all to hell instead.

My five-year-old son, Emrys, was poisoned by the deadly "Silver Eclipse." The only cure, Moonbloom Serum, had been seized entirely by my husband, Corvin, to save it for his nine-month-pregnant mistress, Melisande.
He froze all my bank accounts, forcing me to pawn the ring that symbolized my status as Luna and brave the dangerous black market just to secure the antidote.
But by the time I rushed back to the hospital, covered in blood, my child’s organs had already failed. He was gone.
When I threw the death certificate and divorce papers in Corvin’s face in despair, he just looked at me with mockery, accusing me of using our own flesh and blood to put on an act for his attention.
At that moment, all my love for him died completely. I took my son’s ashes, left the Ashmere pack, and decisively severed a mate bond that had tied us together for years...

Cara is a talented, humble, and ambitious actress who longs for success and fame in the entertainment world. Her life takes an unexpected turn when she meets Vincent, a handsome werewolf with dark secrets. Fascinated by his mysterious aura and his promise to make all her dreams come true, Cara is tempted to make a deal with the devil to sell her soul. With Vincent's supernatural power, her career takes off, but as she gains fame and fortune, she begins to realize that she has made a deal with devastating consequences. In order to save her soul and break free from Vincent's grasp, Cara must fight against the darkness that surrounds her, facing her worst fears and discovering that there are more important things in life than success and fame.

Plot Twist:
Just when Cara thinks she has found a way to break the pact and free herself from Vincent's control, she discovers that he is not really the leader of the werewolves but merely a pawn in a much larger game. It turns out that there is a Supreme Alpha in their species, who has been manipulating Vincent and others like him to achieve his malicious objectives. Now, Cara finds herself caught in a war among werewolves, where she must decide whether to join the rebel forces seeking to overthrow the Alpha or seek her own revenge against Vincent for deceiving her. In an unexpected turn of events, Cara discovers a hidden power within herself that could change the course of the battle and bring an end to the tyranny of the Supreme Alpha. On her journey for revenge, Cara becomes the last hope for her species and desperately fights to liberate the werewolves from their oppressor and reclaim her own freedom.

Six days after Alexander lost all contact, I navigated my way alone to the Nightfall Gala to find him.

The guard's expression twisted into something peculiar when he heard my purpose.

"You're saying you are looking for your mate, Prince Alexander? And what is your name?"

"I am Cecilia."

The guard let out a harsh, mocking snort. "Stop causing a scene! A blind beggar trying to pull a scam? Don't think you can just impersonate her just because you know the name of the Prince's mate."

"Everyone knows the Prince just gifted Cecilia the millennia-old Abyssal Night Crystal to celebrate her pregnancy! What the hell are you?"

Just then, the giant LED screen cut to the Gala's live broadcast.

"Allow me to formally introduce my partner, Cecilia. Furthermore, she is expecting. Our family is about to welcome a new heir." It was Alexander's voice.

"Thank you all. This is the greatest gift Alexander and I could ever receive."

The moment that sweet, timid voice echoed through the hall, a string violently snapped in my brain. A sharp ringing pierced my eardrums.

—It was the voice of my twin sister, Elena.

On my birthday, I was dragged up to the attic and assaulted by several men.
I called my parents, brother, and boyfriend for help, but they all thought I was seeking attention and ruining my sister Sophie's celebration.
"Mia, stop it. We're busy preparing for Sophie's party. If you want attention, find another way."
This was the hundredth time they'd let me down.
But there won't be a hundred and first.
Because I'm already dead.

My billionaire lover brought out a bespoke mermaid gown, declaring he would marry whoever could fit into it.
But in my past four lives, every woman who tried it on—whether an ambitious imposter or me, his true love—was brutally tortured and murdered by him.
In my fifth rebirth, the butler knocked on our door with a polite smile, "Mr. Voss says his true love is among you."
Since we four women would die no matter who wore it...
We exchanged a look in the dead silence, turned our heads in perfect unison, and locked our eyes onto the only man in the room.

After Nicholas got engaged, his assistant handed me a plane ticket.

"Leave. Don’t ever show your face in Silverlight City again."

"Otherwise, Mr. Jackson has more than enough ways to ruin you."

All those years I spent by his side, I was admired by everyone, living in the spotlight.

Yet when I finally left, I was reduced to a pitiful, laughable sight.

I said, "Fine."

But that very night, the flight plunged from over thirty thousand feet in the air.

My husband bought a necklace for the woman who killed my mother.

When I saw my foster sister Rebecca Rebecca wearing that emerald necklace with Aaron at the party, I knew history would repeat itself. Seven years ago, my mother lost everything the same way—her husband, her dignity, and finally her life.

I wouldn't follow in her footsteps.

So after slapping Rebecca across the face, I told everyone I was divorcing him and walked out with my suitcase.

Rebecca thought she'd won again. Aaron thought I was just being hysterical.

Neither of them saw it coming—

This time, I'd make them pay.

“Do you, Alex Snow, take Jennifer Walker, to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Soon to be husband looks at me with the eyes of a beast, ready to rip me apart at any second as he says tightly “I do”

Although he just vowed to take me as his wife, to hold, love, and cherish, his ‘I do’ vowed something else entirely.

It was an oath to make me suffer horribly at his hands.

As soon as the words “I do” left my mouth I was certain, I just sealed my fate by marrying Alex Snow.

And my fate was crystal clear, death is coming for me sooner rather than later.

In a small town called “Snow”, known in all of Alaska for its huge illegal smuggling business on the border of America and Canada, Alex Snow; the new leader of the Snow clan that controls and dominates the smuggling territory, forces Jennifer Walker into marrying him against her will.

After his father gets murdered at the hands of Jenny’s father, Patrick Walker, the Snow clan vows to take their revenge on the whole Walker bloodline.

But killing the responsible man sends both families into a blood feud as both clans vow to make the other one pay.

The only way to stop that bloodbath from turning into a m******e, and claiming more innocent lives was a peace offering in the form of marriage from both families.

Jennifer’s world turns upside down as she turns out to be the one Alex Snow asked to marry specifically to stop that war.

Her only thought at that moment was “He is going to make my life a living hell”

The town Snow and everything it illegally represents is real inside the world I created in this book. It’s as real as you make it to be, but It doesn’t exist in real life

"Speak not a word to her. Let none of you lay your hands or eyes on her. She is mine to deal with. This is my only warning. Defy it, and the consequences will make you beg for death, yet death will not come."
MIRA
When Ken hurt me, I shattered.
But I never gave in. I refused to feel. I refused to love.
Then my father, who hates me, and my mother, too afraid to protect me, send me away.
I expected peace. What I got was the White Lion.
The mafia king of the continent. A legend soaked in blood.
He claims me with no mercy. Protects me with no kindness.
Says I belong to him. Proves it with every threat and every body he leaves behind.
I swore I would never surrender.
But how do you fight a devil who looks like salvation
and kisses like sin?
SCAR
After my mother died from my father’s recklessness, I made myself a promise.
No love. No women in the mafia. No weakness.
Then I saw Mira.
Too proud to beg. Too pure to touch.
I made her a game. A test. A punishment.
But now she is the obsession I never expected.

My father chose two vampires as marriage prospects for my sister and me.

One was an immensely powerful pureblood aristocrat.

The other was Cassian, crippled by a silver curse. Confined to a wheelchair, he was a laughingstock—wracked by phantom pains and constantly on the verge of madness.

In my past life, I chose Cassian.

I drained my own blood to ease his agonizing curse. I shielded him from the relentless mockery of the Vampire Court. I even gambled my life in werewolf territory to beg for his cure.

But he never seemed to get better.

I didn't care. I remember holding his hand and telling him, "It doesn't matter. No matter what happens to you, I will always stay by your side."

Until the accident. A pack of rogue werewolves ambushed us.

Cassian shoved me precisely into the path of their claws.

Just to shield my sister, Serena, from the fatal blow.

Silver claws completely shredded my throat.

Through my fading vision, I watched Cassian stand up from his wheelchair.

The terrifying aura of a Vampire Lord erupted from him, crushing the werewolves instantly. Countless night-thralls emerged from the shadows, dropping to their knees at his feet.

That was when I understood. He was never paralyzed, and he was never mad.

Because Serena hadn't chosen him, and because he wanted absolutely nothing to do with me, he faked the illness to disgust me for years.

Then, he used my life to save his true love.

"I'm sorry for deceiving you. But I couldn't just watch Serena die."

"Elara... whatever I owe you, I'll repay in the next life."

In the bone-piercing cold, I took my last breath.

When I opened my eyes, I was back on the exact day my father forced us to make our choice.

My entire family betrayed me.

My husband Keith threatened divorce to force me into donating bone marrow to save my sister Berenice's life.

My parents slapped me across the face, screaming I owed her everything.

Thirty days in an underground lab, Keith wined and dined Berenice while I got steel needles driven through my spine daily.

When I begged Keith for help through the agony, he texted back: "Stop playing victim. Disgusting."

I died alone on day thirty. Keith arrived with divorce papers, ready for one final insult, but received a decomposing corpse crawling with maggots.

But when the truth came out, why did my loving family completely lose their minds?

As the tyrant ruling the underworld, Victor was ruthless and bloodthirsty, showing no mercy to anyone.

Women who tried to climb into his bed usually didn’t even get a whole corpse, yet I was the only one he kept by his side.

I’d taken a poisoned bullet for him, and nearly bled to death on the rotting floor of a safe house giving birth to his son.

He once kissed the bullet scar on my shoulder and promised me that when he sat on the godfather’s throne, I would be his only family matriarch.

But the moment he slipped on that black onyx ring symbolizing power, he carried another woman into the master bedroom of the manor.

I burst for the door, and he ordered his bodyguards to pin me outside, forcing me to listen to their sounds of passion all night long.

I banged on the door like a madwoman, so he slammed my paintbrush-wielding right hand in the heavy oak doorframe and crushed it mercilessly.

I finally caved when he threatened to cut off my mother’s hospital treatment.

My husband's foster sister, Delilah, gets poisoned and ends up paralyzed. My husband, Grayson, the Don of this whole crime family, doesn't even bother checking the security cameras. He just throws me, two months pregnant, into the cistern where they punish traitors.

"Tessa, hand over the antidote, or die."

I kneel in the freezing swamp water and beg him. I didn't poison her.

He answers with a kick to the stomach.

For three straight days, I suffer down there. Leeches tear into my skin. My baby turns into a pool of black blood and dissolves into the filthy water. By the end, my vocal cords tear to shreds, my body goes cold, and I stop breathing.

His men get on their knees and beg him to spare me. He just sneers.

"That woman's always been good at playing the victim. No food, no medicine. Let her keep soaking."

Three days later, he finally walks into the cistern, and it's only to give me an ultimatum.

"Crawl out and apologize to Delilah on your knees. Otherwise I'll strip you of your title and sell you off to a trafficking ring. You'll wish you were dead."

No one answers him.

He has no idea. I already am.

The second the avalanche came down, I called my mate. Karl. Captain of the Pack Guard's First Squad.

He dug me out, carried me onto the helicopter, and told the pilot to take off before the second rescue team even got there.

He didn't know Delilah was buried in the same slide. The girl he'd never gotten over.

By the time they reached her, she'd been under the snow for three hours in twenty below.

Karl stood in the morgue all night.

He came back the next day and just gave me a small smile. "It wasn't your fault. You were carrying our pup. Of course you came first."

For a month after that, he was gentler than he'd ever been. He cleared his schedule to take me to every checkup. Cooked for me himself. Put the crib together, the dresser too. Every single thing in the nursery lined up exactly right.

I thought that avalanche had finally buried Delilah. That it had given him back to me.

Until the day I went into labor.

He sent every doctor and nurse out of the delivery room. There was a silver scalpel in his hand.

The moment he cut me open, I saw the red in his eyes.

Our pup was still crying, small and weak, and he never even looked. He threw us both into the incinerator.

"If it weren't for you, Delilah would still be alive. Your life for hers."

Then I opened my eyes, and I was back at the moment the avalanche hit.

The night before the SAT, I brought homemade pastries from our bakery to share with the whole class.

The next day, over thirty students collapsed at the testing center. The exam was voided.

I became the target of everyone's rage. My family fell apart. I ended up in a detention cell.

The internet tore me apart. My classmate Lainey Prescott went on camera sobbing, saying all she wanted was for me to own up to what I did.

While I was in detention, I found out my mom had a mental breakdown and jumped off the overpass outside of town.

That same night, I went into the river too. The water was freezing.

When I open my eyes, Lainey is right there. She's holding that same sheet of paper with everyone's signatures, smiling like nothing's wrong, eyes just as calculating as I remember.

I'm back.

And this time, I'm not making anything for anyone.

I died—not in the way you'd expect, but slowly, painfully, while he was entangled with her.

He called her his savior, the woman who sold everything to rescue his failing empire. Little did he know, it was my money, my life's work, that he squandered.

The betrayal burned hotter than any flame, and I vowed he'd pay.

Now, he's gone—a leap from the heights he once ruled, his fall as swift as his rise.

irectly in front of me.
Only the night before, she’d been curled up in my arms, her warm fingertips brushing my collarbone, our bodies tangled in tender, loving intimacy.
Yet the toe tag fastened around her ankle was etched with cold, unflinching words: Su Wan, Female, 22. Cause of death: fatal fall from height. Time in morgue custody: 365 days.
She had been dead for an entire year.
Just what in the hell was the woman who’d gasped beneath me night after night, who’d lived beside me day in and day out for six whole months—the woman I’d called my girlfriend?

My husband, Callum, never loved me. On our wedding night, he panted another woman’s name.
For five years, I endured a cold, loveless marriage. The only reason I held on was my daughter, Tessa.
But on the eve of her fourth birthday, Callum went behind my back and personally delivered her to his mistress Seraphina's underground lab.
The moment my daughter was drained of her blood and her heart stopped beating on that operating table, he was drinking champagne with Seraphina to celebrate their success.
From the moment I walked out of the crematorium holding Tessa’s freezing urn, the submissive wife I used to be died.

Three years since I married into the Hawthorne family, I had already lost two children.
And the one who decided whether my babies lived or died wasn't a doctor—it was a potted plant in the manor's living room: the Crimson Orchid.
In this family, if the petals withered and reeked after drinking the pregnancy blood, it was an unbreakable rule: the child had to go.
The first two times, all I could do was lose my children in despair under the anesthetic mask at some underground clinic.
To save my third pregnancy, I secretly went to a top medical center out of state for an amniocentesis.
The diagnosis, there in black and white, proved it: my baby was perfectly healthy and carried the purest family bloodline.
I thought I was safe this time. But when my finger blood dripped into the black soil again, the orchid once more oozed foul-smelling black water.
My in-laws crushed my medical report underfoot without mercy and had their people drag me toward the operating table.
I couldn't understand it: the scientific evidence clearly confirmed my child was healthy and pure-blooded.
Why did they insist on trusting a mutated, stinking flower and killing their own grandchildren over and over again?

My brother Miles blames me for our parents' deaths.
So he chose to adopt the deaf Vivian instead of keeping me.
Later, I met Sullivan.
He gave me a grand confession. He chose me, resolutely.
He also said I hired someone to assault Vivian—that I didn't deserve sympathy.
Five years after being cast out of my family, a dismembered female body was found inside a carnival mascot costume.
Miles, now a police officer, led the investigation. Sullivan, now a forensic pathologist, performed the autopsy.
They saw the bloodstained hearing aid and immediately called Vivian.
"I'm fine. I just saw the news—some big case. Should we tell Sis to be careful too? What if something happens to her?"
They refused, almost in unison.
"The moment she killed our parents, she stopped being my sister."
"She was jealous of you. She did too many terrible things. If she's dead, she had it coming."
My soul hovered in the air, watching them. I laughed until I cried.
But when they found out the victim was me—
Why did they both go mad?

Five years ago, Eric took the fall for his fiancée’s brother and was thrown into the notorious Saint Paul Mountain Women’s Prison.

Little did the world know, this hell on earth became his ultimate training ground.

Enduring brutal training under seven legendary masters, he emerged as a supreme martial artist and a divine healer, eventually taking over as the prison’s absolute warden.

But when he steps out, his world shatters: his three general brothers were ambushed and killed in action, his grandfather is on his deathbed, and his family empire has been reduced to ruins by wolves.

Now, the King of Saint Paul Mountain has returned to the city.

To those who betrayed his family and brought shame to his name—prepare to pay a hundredfold!

My family's company went bankrupt, and my father was critically ill.

I dropped out of school and worked multiple jobs every day.

Debt collectors beat me and broke my ribs, but I couldn't afford painkillers.

Every penny I earned went to expensive medicine, all to save my father.

Until I saw my father, who should have been bedridden on oxygen, holding a champagne glass at a hotel banquet hall.

His words pierced through, "Five years, the punishment she earned."

The bankruptcy was fiction. The illness, theater.

All orchestrated because his stepdaughter suffered from depression, and I was her entertainment.

When the doctor finally spoke to me, "Days. You have only days."

I laughed.

The dying one had never been my father.

It had always been me.

She thought she was human—until she drowned.

She wakes in the body of a missing selkie princess in a hidden island kingdom… and quickly realizes she’ll be executed if anyone discovers the truth.

The only person who knows? Her guard—cold, loyal, and furious she’s taken the place of the woman he was sworn to protect.

When her unstable shifting magic reveals something impossible—both selkie and tideborn blood—he’s forced to keep her secret… because exposing her would destabilize the crown.

Now, bound by duty and necessity, they must secretly search for the real princess—before her magic exposes them both.

BLURB

“I don’t love Selena anymore. All I see is a broken shell…a barren woman.”

Those words, spoken by my husband behind the closed door of his study, were the jagged shards of glass that finally shattered my world.

For years, I endured the physical agony of ten miscarriages and five failed IVFs, believing Franklin was the anchor holding me together. I didn’t know I was actually the anchor dragging him down.

He wants a divorce.

He wants a woman who can give him the family I couldn't.

He wants to be free of the burden of a wife who is falling apart.

But Franklin doesn't know my biggest secret. It isn't just my womb that is failing; it’s my entire body.

I am dying.

Stage four cancer is aggressive, and my time is measured in hours, not years.

I could tell him the truth.

I could watch him stay out of pity, trapped by guilt for the rest of my numbered days, but I love him too much to let him become my martyr.

So, I’ve made him a deal.

I will sign the divorce papers and walk out of his life forever but first, I want twenty-one hours.

One hour for every year we’ve known each other.

One last day to pretend we are still the awkward intern and the protective man who fell in love.

He thinks he’s spending these hours saying goodbye to a woman he no longer wants.

He has no idea he’s actually saying goodbye to a woman who will be dead before the ink on our divorce papers is even dry.

Twenty-one hours of lies.

Twenty-one hours of love.

And then, I’ll let him go.

Forever

Six months ago, a yacht explosion consumed everyone I loved: my husband Leonard, my parents, and my brother.
I escaped only because of stomach pain that kept me from boarding. My adopted sister Claire became the sole survivor.
Since then, I've become an empty shell.
Even after being diagnosed with terminal uterine cancer, even while carrying my late husband's child, I've endured the agony of chemotherapy alone, exhausting what little strength remains to scrape together money for Claire—who hides away in a private care facility, claiming severe PTSD.
Until this winter day, with a blizzard approaching.
Dragging my dying body to my husband's memorial to pay respects, I discovered a credit card statement—charges made three months after his death.
Following the address on that receipt, I pushed open the door of a luxurious suburban villa.
Inside, it was warm as spring. My parents and brother, who should have been at the bottom of the ocean, stood there perfectly alive.
At the center of the room, my husband—the man I'd grieved for day and night—was kissing my adopted sister, his lips tender against hers.
The whole family was celebrating, raising glasses to toast the infant cradled in Claire's arms—barely a month old.
There had never been any disaster at sea.
It was all a meticulously planned hoax—their twisted way to erase me from their lives forever.

When my younger brother got into a top university, the whole family celebrated for him.
I, suffering from a terminal illness, clutched my chest and desperately cried for help, only to be met with a disgusted slap from my mother and the words, "You just can't stand to see your brother doing well!"
She thought I was a spoilsport, so she roughly dragged me back to the room and locked the door from the outside.
She didn't know that those were the last words I ever heard in my life.
The next morning, she opened the door with breakfast in hand, only to find my corpse.

I burn through eighty years of my life raising three dogs that turn around and tear into me.

My vampire husband, Damian, used to be an outcast covered in festering sores, cursed to fear the sun. I cut my wrist and gave up thirty years of my life so he could become the most powerful man among the bloodlines, in control of half the world's wealth. Cold and ruthless to everyone else, he only ever bares his fangs for me.

Knox, the werewolf boy I grew up with, was born with a genetic flaw that kept him from ever shifting. I gave up another twenty years so he could have the strongest bloodline of all. Wild and reckless, he used to swear he'd carry me on his back for the rest of his life.

Julian, my human brother, got burned beyond recognition saving me from a fire. I spent my last thirty years giving him back a face people would pay a fortune for. He used to send crates of his paintings to my room, the kind of work people would kill to own.

Then a woman named Daphne shows up, and all three of them lose their minds over her.

And somehow I become the jealous, vicious wife everyone wants gone.

She cries that I pushed her, so they drive blades of blood straight through my bones.

She says I'm cruel to the staff, so they break my legs in front of a crowd.

And when I'm dying, they drain my blood to keep her alive.

If you're all going to treat the life I gave you like trash, then I'm taking it back. The strength, the face, the life. All of it.

[God, I take it back. I want everything I gave them returned to me.]

I don't realize how badly I've been wronged until they're strapping me to the gurney.

My name is Camille Brooks. I'm one of the best cardiothoracic surgeons in the city, and I have never lost a patient on my table.

My fiancé, Adrian Vance, is the golden boy of the entire hospital. We're supposed to get married next month.

It's a stormy night when he calls, telling me to get to the hospital right now. There's a patient bleeding out, and only I can save them.

I race through the rain, but I get stuck in traffic halfway there. By the time I push through the OR doors, the patient has no pulse.

The family points at me. They say I botched the procedure and killed him. And Adrian Vance, my own fiancé, takes the stand and shows up with "ironclad evidence" against me.

I have nothing to fight back with. I go to prison. My parents can't handle it. It destroys them both. They take their own lives.

It's only after I die that I learn who really held the scalpel that night: Daisy Whitman, the woman Adrian never got over.

I was just the fall guy.

Then I open my eyes.

I'm back. One hour before everything falls apart, riding through the rain toward the hospital.

This time, I'm going to survive.

And I'm going to watch both of you burn.

Two women have gone missing in two weeks: the first, found dead, was slashed and dumped in a back alley in Boston. The second was discovered by a child in a Swan Boat Ride. As fear intensifies, Hunter, the head of the FBI Behavioral Unit, calls his star criminal profiler, Tracy Wrenn, to help on the case. Even though she had plans to become engaged that evening, Tracy quickly cancels her plans and rushes to Boston to help. A beautiful, young professor of criminal psychology, Tracy has become renowned for her success at cracking cases no one else can. With her unusual insights and unique point of view, she is relentless at probing the inner minds of murderers. When a third woman goes missing, and when Tracy finds herself in danger, everything intensifies. In a shocking turn of events, Tracy finds out more not only about the killer, but about herself--and learns that nothing is what is seems.Book #2 in The Killing Game will be released soon.

"Only one life jacket left!" a crewman shouted as the cruise ship sank.
My husband, Captain Harrison, looked torn between me—his pregnant wife—and Emma, his first love.
Last time, he gave me the jacket, intending to die with Emma. But he survived, and she drowned. To avenge her, he smothered our newborn. "You stole her life," he snarled. I killed him for my baby, bleeding out beside him.
Waking to the deafening sirens, I realize I’ve been reborn. This time, who will get that final life jacket?

The last thing I did before I died was lick dew off a rusted pipe.
Ninety days earlier, my fiancé Bastien promised he'd come back for me. He said three months in the Sahara would teach me not to be jealous of Posey—the girl I'd pulled from a refugee camp and raised as my own sister.
He didn't know the water ran out in the first week. He didn't know bandits broke my bones. He didn't care enough to find out.
While I lay dying on a rotting bed with a shattered leg, he was in Manhattan, sliding a pink diamond onto Posey's finger.
I died alone. But I didn't stay gone.
My soul followed a stolen necklace across the ocean, right back to his penthouse—just in time for the engagement party, the champagne toast, and the moment my body arrived at the door.

Every time the clock hits 11:10 PM, I am brutally slaughtered in my apartment. And every time, I gasp awake ten minutes earlier to fight for my life. The deadbolts are secure. The windows are sealed. Outside my door, nothing but silence. Yet, the killer strikes precisely on time. Who is watching me from the dark?

My family let me die. My fiancé watched. My sister smiled.
I was the real daughter, dragged from the orphanage to donate my bone marrow, then thrown away like garbage. When the monsters came for the imposter, they shielded her and left me to rot.
But death wasn’t the end. It was a deal.
I woke with a system tethered to my pulse—one that trades public admiration for the power to survive.​ And behind these hands are two identities they never suspected: the legend whose music they worship, and the ghost in the machine who owns their secrets.
They think I’m back to beg for love.
They’re wrong. I’m here to collect.
This time, I won’t just take back my music and my name. I’ll make them need me—right before I watch them lose everything.
They wanted me erased.
I’m about to become the only name that matters.

Xie Yijin hated me more than anyone in this world.

He called me vicious as a scorpion, said I schemed about everything, stole all that belonged to Lin Wanwan, and destroyed the one he held dearest.

Xie Yijin shielded Lin Wanwan tightly behind him.
The eyes that once looked at me with such tenderness were now frozen over with unmelting ice.
He pointed straight at me, every word cutting like a blade:

"Shen Zhiyi, why don’t you just die?!"

I froze in place, my fingertips ice-cold.
Unconsciously, I still clutched that crumpled, yellowed candy wrapper.

He had given it to me when he was seven years old,
saying that when I grew up, he would marry me
and buy me candies for the rest of my life.

But now…
he only wanted me dead.

My boyfriend Tyler, his childhood sweetheart Chelsea, and I went on a road trip through the Australian Outback in the Northern Territory.

A few scrawny, yellow-coated dogs lingered by the roadside. Chelsea insisted on getting out to feed them.

I warned her they were dingoes, vicious predators that ruled this desert.

Her eyes welled up and she called me heartless. Tyler jumped in too, saying I grew up with a silver spoon in my mouth, that I didn't get what it was like for regular people, that I couldn't even spare a couple of hot dogs.

She forced the door open and ran out. The pack lunged at her. Her screams tore through the air. Tyler cowered in the car, shaking.

I was the only one who got out to help her.

Chelsea scrambled back into the car, but Tyler slammed the door shut and locked it.

I never forgot his face pressed against the window, terrified and selfish. I never forgot the despair of feeling fangs rip through my throat.

After I died, the two of them flew back to the States and posted a sobbing video, claiming I was the one who'd insisted on getting out to take pictures and set the dogs off.

The online hate came for my family, all of it, all at once. My parents, both with weak hearts, collapsed under the stress. Neither one made it.

My whole family, destroyed because I couldn't stop caring for one second.

When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day the trip started.

When the dismissal bell rings, the night resets.
I'm Zoe, a high school sophomore living on campus, isolated by my entire family and the whole school. My "crime"? I reported my own little brother for campus violence.
The first time, I died in the dark by the track. The second time, shut inside the equipment room. But every time I opened my eyes, I was dragged back to the exact same starting point. Only the number on my arm—the countdown of how many lives I had left—dropped by one.
The man in the black mask always seemed to know exactly where I’d run and where I’d hide. But what truly sent shivers down my spine was this: every single time, my mother stood just a few steps away, quietly watching me take my last breath.
Once the number hits zero, there is no coming back. What do I have to do to survive this night?

In a world where love is a dangerous game, Leila Castor finds herself charmed by the devil himself. Ben Maloney, with his alluring facade and sweet promises, hides an evil truth that threatens Leila's life. When he betrays her, leaving her to choke on her blood, Leila's thirst for revenge knows no bounds.

And luckily fate grants her a second chance, And discovers she has been taken back in time two months before her death! Will she rewrite the wrongs done to her or set out on a path of retribution against those who wronged her?

They said a perfect luna should be gentle, obedient, and tolerant of everything.
My husband, Alpha Cedric Blackwood, said that as his luna, I had to be virtuous and generous, and I had to take good care of his "little woloves."
If anyone was led astray, it meant I, as luna, had failed to set a proper example, and I had to be punished in their place.
And so, when his adopted sister, newly graduated from Crescent Moon Academy, ran off to party at a bar and stayed out all night, I was ordered to wash clothes for the entire pack in the bitter winter cold until my hands were covered in frostbite.
When his little lover chased thrills and went alone to the border, drawing rogues to her, I was punished for poor discipline with ninety-nine lashes from a silver whip, beaten so badly that my wolf fell into a deep sleep.
When the two of them grew bored with life, went traveling together, and even stole my unlimited black card, they had barely left before their wild spending drew the attention of an enemy pack and got them kidnapped.
The news that Cedric had spent fifty million to ransom the two women was exposed, turning the Blackwood family into a laughingstock across the werewolf world.
The elders were furious and demanded that the matter be dealt with severely.
Cedric's face darkened. Then he turned around and ordered someone to tie me up.
"You knew they were young, naive, and easy to deceive, yet you deliberately gave them the black card. Weren't you trying to attract the enemy pack's attention so they would get rid of the thorns in your side?"
"A vicious, jealous she-wolf like you deserves to taste what it feels like to be kidnapped and tortured!"
But he did not know that on the first night after I was taken away, I was tortured to death.

After losing the baby, I finally gave Silas the one thing he had always craved: a trouble-free marriage.

No more interrogations when he stayed out all night. No more hysterical fits over the presence of his first love.

Even when I was discharged from the hospital, and the nurse asked for my husband's signature, I simply replied with chilling calm, "I don't have a husband."

My love for Silas died right alongside our unborn child.

By the time he finally realized the truth and begged me to come back, it would be far too late.

In my past life, we were camping in the wilderness area of a state park when my best friend handed out "lucky charms" to the whole group. Charms she'd secretly packed full of wildlife attractant.

A wild boar knocked me to the ground outside the cabin door. Its tusks tore into my stomach. I pounded on the wood with both fists, screaming. "Help! Open the door!"

Inside were my boyfriend of two years and the best friend I'd been quietly supporting for just as long. Autumn Warren.

"I'm so sorry, Brynn." Autumn's voice broke into sobs, but her weight stayed pressed hard against the door. "There are boars everywhere. We open that door, we're all dead."

"Just hold on! I'm calling 911!" Wyatt Fletcher's voice rang out with the kind of conviction that cost him absolutely nothing.

I paid for that trip. I'd fallen behind because I'd stopped to pull Autumn along.

And they stood on the other side of that door, my blood soaking into the dirt, and locked me out.

I open my eyes. I'm back. It's the day we left.

The day I gave birth, I wasn't handed my crying baby, but a tight swaddle of blood-stained cash.
To secure his seat as the new Don, my husband had traded our newborn to Agatha—my own flesh-and-blood aunt, and the young wife of his paralyzed father.
Reduced to nothing more than a convenient incubator, I spent the next four years as a prisoner in my own home.
Ronald issued a ruthless order to his men: if I ever took a single step toward Agatha’s heavily guarded wing to see my son, I was to be shot on sight.
But a mother's desperation knows no bounds.
When my boy's fever spiked dangerously high, I blasted through armed guards and walked through a blazing inferno just to save his life.
Yet, the most fatal wound didn't come from the flames or the shattered glass.
It happened in the ER, when the four-year-old boy I nearly died to save woke up, shoved away my severely burned hands, and screamed for Agatha. He begged me to leave, crying that he just wanted to be a "real family" with his dad and the woman who stole my life.
Staring at the twisted family my husband and aunt had built upon my stolen motherhood, a sudden, icy numbness quieted my shattered world.
"Call me Mom one last time," I whispered through the ash and tears, "and I promise I'll never bother you again."

"I need an accident—one that looks fatal," I said calmly into the encrypted phone. "It's the only way to escape him."
Rumors swirl that this man—the underworld boss who controls half of Europe’s shadow economy—loves me beyond reason.
They say he defied his entire family for me. That this ruthless killer laid down his weapons just to cook me a meal.
For years, he made the world believe I was his one weakness—and even I almost believed it.
But instinct in a life-or-death moment doesn’t lie.
When bullets shattered the car window, he yanked the steering wheel on reflex—shielding my adopted sister in the passenger seat while leaving me, his wife, fully exposed to the hail of gunfire.
As I lay bleeding, desperately trying to protect our unborn child… he was busy cradling her in his arms.
While I endured everything for our future, he signed over the estate—the one he promised would be our retire place—to that lying sister.
That’s when I knew: some loves are just performances for the living.
So I gave him exactly what he wanted.
I left behind a positive pregnancy test—six weeks along—and drove straight into the deep ocean, staging the most brutal finale right before his eyes.

“When you think that life cannot get better, Blake Pierce comes up with another masterpiece of thriller and mystery! This book is full of twists and the end brings a surprising revelation. I strongly recommend this book to the permanent library of any reader that enjoys a very well written thriller.”--Books and Movie Reviews, Roberto Mattos (re Almost Gone) LEFT TO DIE is book #1 in a new FBI thriller series by USA Today bestselling author Blake Pierce, whose #1 bestseller Once Gone (Book #1) (a free download) has received over 1,000 five star reviews. FBI special agent Adele Sharp is a German-and-French raised American with triple citizenship—and an invaluable asset in bringing criminals to justice as they cross American and European borders.When a serial killer case spanning three U.S. states goes cold, Adele returns to San Francisco and to the man she hopes to marry. But after a shocking twist, a new lead surfaces and Adele is dispatched to Paris, to lead an international manhunt.Adele returns to the Europe of her childhood, where familiar Parisian streets, old friends from the DGSI and her estranged father reignite her dormant obsession with solving her own mother’s murder. All the while she must hunt down the diabolical killer, must enter the dark canals of his psychotic mind to know where he will strike next—and save the next victim before it’s too late.An action-packed mystery series of international intrigue and riveting suspense, LEFT TO DIE will have you turning pages late into the night.Books #2 and #3 in the series – LEFT TO RUN and LEFT TO HIDE – are also available for preorder!