120 Book(s) Related to alex finlay real name

For six years I kept the books nobody wanted to touch.
They called me the help. My husband signed my name to a loan I never saw. His mother told the whole family I was the reason there were no grandchildren.
At the anniversary gala, they planned to retire me quietly — and hand my desk to the woman my husband had been paying out of company accounts.
They forgot one thing.
Before I married into this family, I spent six years catching men who move money the way they do. I never stopped keeping a second set of books.
I let them think the game was already over.
It was — for them.

My Big Bad Wolf Series: Elysia & Alex-Book 1 (Nocturnal Collections)

She broke into his mansion. Now she’s trapped in his world.

A cunning thief with nothing to lose.
A powerful Alpha with everything to protect.
When Elysia Crinshaw is caught stealing from Alex Landry, she doesn’t go to jail, she’s claimed. Drawn into his world, she learns that freedom can be more dangerous than chains…and love more brutal than any cage.

"Bella? You mean that wolfless piece of shit? I'm just fooling around with her. I don't need her. She's useless. She's poor. She feeds on me more than I ever feed on her and worst of it, she won't even spread her legs. What the fuck do I need from a trashy woman like her?"


Bella Montagu, adoptive daughter of Luna Cora and Alpha Grey has her heart shattered by her five years boyfriend on the day of graduation. Out of anger, she rejects him, together with her wolf and returns to the pack only for her father, Alpha Grey to cast her out and imprison her, saying he never liked her and she was of no use to him from the start. With the help of Luna Cora, the only woman who has ever loved her, she escapes only for fate to play a cruel thing in her face, in the name of Kai Marlakey, the alpha of the Ashwood pack.
With a broken heart and a man mourning the loss of his poor mate, would things ever work out between them? Would Bella be able to find her real identity? And what if she's not as cursed as she has always believed? What exactly does fate have in store for Bella and why does it keep tampering with her?
Find out in this sweet romance.

Ariella Hayes was seventeen years old when she learned that grief had a taste.
It tasted like burnt sugar. Like the batch of croissants she’d left in the oven too long the morning after the funeral, too numb to hear the timer, too broken to care. Like the coffee, she drank black now because adding cream felt like a luxury she didn’t deserve. Grief tasted like everything and nothing.
Mostly nothing.
She was thinking about this at 4:47 a.m., lying in bed and staring at the water stain on her ceiling that resembled a reaching hand. She’d been awake since three. She was always awake from three, that gray hour when the world was silent enough to hear all the things she tried not to think about during the day.
Like how it was her fault.
How she should have been the one in the car.
How her mother hadn’t really looked at her in six months.
The timer screamed, and Ariella dragged herself out of bed, moving through the apartment like a ghost, past her mother’s bedroom door, down the narrow stairs to Hayes & Daughter Bakery. The name felt like a lie now. Her grandmother was gone. Ethan was gone. Soon the bakery would be gone too, and it would just be Ariella and her mother in an empty building, haunting the space where their family used to be.

She is about to embark on a life-altering journey as she enters a contract marriage with billionaire heir Aiden Frost, all in a bid to rescue her family’s struggling bakery. As they step into this pretend union, neither of them anticipates how their arrangement will evolve into a haven, where they might uncover feelings that challenge their initial intentions.

Ethan Blake never thought that his best friend — the charming, fearless, openly gay Adrian Cross — had a secret bigger than anyone could have ever dreamed of. Adrian was not just the star player of the school. he was a werewolf Alpha, destined to lead a pack torn between allegiance and insurrection.

When Adrian reveals his concealed love for Ethan, all that Ethan has believed in love, friendship, and himself crumbles. The love becomes stronger, but danger erupts at once. Another Alpha, Marcus Hale, is interested in Ethan — not because he loves him, but to make him a pawn to overthrow Adrian's grip on power.

Now Ethan is in a realm of claws, blood, and fate where passion slays and love may be the price of life. Secrets are revealed, and he has to confront the toughest reality: his gay best friend is not only an Alpha… he's the Alpha, and their destinies are sealed forever.
Will Ethan embrace the love that scares him, or will pack traditions tear them apart?

I spent eighteen years as the West family’s “fake heiress.”

When their real daughter came back, they shoved me into a storage room, made me take the blame for her scandals, and even cursed me at Grandpa’s funeral for being ungrateful.

Then sixteen Maybachs arrived to take me home.

Only then did they learn the truth—I was the long-lost daughter of the wealthiest family in the world.

Now the Wests want forgiveness. Too bad. I want them ruined.

But the man who pinned me against a bathroom sink after I defused a bomb only smiled and whispered, “Would you rather your brother walk in and find you here with a strange man?”

Worse, his face was hidden in my grandfather’s secret keepsake.

So who is he really… and what did Grandpa die trying to hide?

“Why is Elara dying on my stream?”

Sienna Vale laughed in front of half a million viewers while my heroine glitched on-screen, wearing the ring I designed and speaking the line I wrote.

Caleb didn’t ask if I was okay. He shoved the emergency laptop toward me and said, “Fix it before the investors panic.”

So I opened the live build.

But instead of saving his launch, I patched one line into the game credits:

Created by Maya Reed.

Renea was trying the wedding dress, when suddenly the man rushed in the dressing room and held her neck tightly...
“Bitch! Are you still trying to pretend innocent!” Jasper said as he tightened his grip on her neck and choked her harder. Then he used his other hand and took out the phone from his suit pocket and played the video of two people having sex in front of Renea…
However, what was even more shocking, was that the woman in the video was, Renea Morris, however, the man in the video was not Jasper.
Renea struggled to take a phone away from Jasper’s hand and tried to explain, “Jasper, it was not what you think… I… I can…”
Jasper looked at Renea with his eyes full of disgust, as he said, “Let’s call of the wedding. I can’t marry a woman like you.” After saying that Jasper walked out of the shop
Renea chase after Jasper...
But then she sees Jasper passionately kissing her sister Kailey. And she hears everything, that her sleeping with strange men was all a plan of the vipers of the last two days, and that their goal was to get out of this stupid marriage. Even her adopted parents were also involved in this matter...
They all do this with her because of the inheritance left by her grandfather...
Renea heart was filled with anger and she wanted to expose their true colors to the public... However before she could do anything, Kailey had pushed her in front of the car and she got killed...
However, when Renea open her eyes, she found herself sitting in the car with Kailey... She realized that she was reborn and went at the time when everything started...
Renea looked at the people who had hurt her in her previous life and her lips curled up in a cold smile...
She was back...
However, this time... she was back for revenge...

I was raised by the Smith family for twenty years. The moment their real daughter returned, I was kicked out without hesitation.

The position of design director? Given to the real daughter.
The marriage worth a fortune? Also given to her.

The whole company waited to see the “bastard” make a fool of herself.

Until a globally limited motorcycle, one of only twenty in the world, stopped at the company entrance.
A roguishly handsome man leaned over it and said, “Sis, come home with your brother.”

The entire Smith family was stunned speechless.

Only later did they learn—
I was Master A, the artist that masters around the world lined up to meet.
I was the holder of every award winning patent in Smith Group.
And I was the daughter of the legendary family as wealthy as a nation. The true heiress.

The powerful CEO pulled out the long sealed engagement contract, a faint smile on his lips.

“So it turns out… you’re my fiancée.”

When their real daughter came home, my foster parents threw me out like trash.
But before I could even leave, my foster sister pinned a murder charge on me.
I watched the police rush toward me. Then I lifted my foster sister's arm—the one still marked with fresh needle punctures—and smiled at the crowd.
They had no idea who they were dealing with.
Beneath this unremarkable face, I am a once-in-a-century medical genius, a phantom hacker, an elite designer... Even if my birth family lived in the poorest slum in the city, I could give them a life beyond their wildest dreams.
But then, the cheerful jingle of an ice cream truck cut through the chaos.
And a fleet of Rolls-Royces pulled up behind it.
Turns out, my real family isn't poor at all. They might just be the richest people in the country.
Well then. The game just changed.

To protect my son, I spent a grueling year trapped in an underground bunker on an isolated island. Outside the heavy steel door, the scratching and snarling of the undead never ceased.

When our supplies finally ran dry, I risked my life crawling through a narrow ventilation duct to find water—only to emerge into bright sunlight. There was no apocalypse.

My wife—who had supposedly been "torn apart" by the horde—was lounging in a silk slip, sipping champagne with my head of security. And those monsters pounding on my door? Paid actors.

They had staged this entire bio-crisis just to lock me away and drive me insane, all so they could legally seize my billion-dollar empire.

Watching their smug smiles, I slipped back into the shadows. I destroyed the island's entire communication grid and emptied the only vial of a real zombie virus into their central water supply.

Since you love playing doomsday survival so much... let's make it real.

When the alpha of the black moon pack is attacked by a group of rouges, he never expected for anyone to help him specially his mate. One who is hiding a secret and is as unique as him.
Will they find love within each other of be torn apart by some one unexpected.

They call me the "Savior," building altars for me amidst the ruins.
But they don't know that when I climbed out of the abyss, I had no intention of saving this species whatsoever.
I am not here to rebuild civilization; I am simply calculating exactly how many souls I must reclaim to fully awaken my Ark.

Main Platform Blurb

Evelyn Hart has been married to billionaire Adrian Vale for three years.

In private, she is his wife.

In public, she is no one.

At Meridian Foundation's glittering charity gala, Adrian thanks his family, his donors, and every powerful name in the room. He never thanks Evelyn. He never even says her name.

Then a terrified woman slips a recorder into Evelyn's hand and whispers:

Ask what happened to Room 17.

The clue leads Evelyn into the darkest corners of the family she married: hidden medical files, missing women, false names, and a foundation that turns living people into secrets.

Adrian says he wants to protect her.

But Evelyn is done being protected into silence.

If he wants to stand beside her now, he will have to do what he never did before: tell the truth, give up control, and let her choose whether he deserves a place in her life.

Because Room 17 does not only hide his family's crimes.

It hides the reason his wife was never meant to have a name.

TRIGGER WARNING!!!
This story contains themes of obsession, possessiveness, stalking, emotional manipulation, and psychological control. It is unapologetically intense and unsettling in all the right (and wrong) ways.
Be guided.


Eight years ago, Shannon watched her stepbrother get handcuffed and taken to jail for a crime she committed.

He took the fall for it without hesitation. Not because he was noble. God, no. But because obsession looks a lot like love when you're seventeen and scared.

After that night, she never went to visit him in prison, nor did she reply to any of his letters.

She buried him with the past and went on to live a peaceful life without him.

But the past never forgets.

Eight years later, when she was living a simple, peaceful life, had a decent job and a husband who loved her deeply, Shannon's past came knocking at her door.

Strange things start happening... Doors left open. Favorite things mysteriously replaced. Eyes she can't see but feels always watching her.

Everyone says she's paranoid. Everyone says He is still in jail.

No one believes her when she says she had a STALKER.

Her judgment is already upon her because, now, HE is out of prison. And the first place he goes is her doorstep, because he says she owes him her life. And he's come to collect what's his.

How far can Shannon run from a man who never stopped loving her in the most terrifying way?

A man who'd kill anyone, even her husband, just to make her his?

HIS NAME IS KENAI... The Stalker You Never Want To Have.


If you enjoy slow-burn stalker dynamics and morally gray characters, this one's for you.

Lucille was one of the most skilled female assassins, and on the previous night, she embarked on a top-secret mission. However, the mission's details were leaked, leading to her untimely demise at the hands of a traitorous companion. She never discovered the identity of the person who betrayed her before her death. But by some miracle, she was granted a new life, and was reborn as a girl with the same name. Determined to uncover the truth and seek revenge for her family, Lucille seized her second chance at life. She planned to avenge her loved ones. However, her plans were complicated by Joseph, an apparently frail man who was actually skilled in martial arts. And he seemed to fall for her deeply, now this newfound knowledge only added to the complications of Lucille's revenge plan...

It was the kind of cold that seeped into your bones.
In my past life, I was locked in the abandoned freezer beneath St. Jude Preparatory Academy.
Outside the door stood my biological brother Spencer, along with Landon—my boyfriend of three years. And between them, wearing Landon's oversized football jacket, was my stepsister Lacey.
"Blythe, just admit you bullied me. Post an apology video to the whole school, and Spencer will let you out." Lacey's voice trembled, fake tears glistening at the corners of her eyes.
Spencer's voice cut through the metal door like ice:
"Blythe, you brought this on yourself. You've been terrorizing Lacey at school, pushed her to the edge. Maybe some time in there will teach you what decency looks like."
Landon's voice dripped with disappointment: "Jesus, Blythe. I thought I knew you. This isn't who you are."
I pounded on the iron door until my fists were raw, screaming until my voice gave out.
I told them the truth—that I never touched Lacey. That she was the one forcing girls to their knees in the bathroom. That she stole my exam. That every shred of "evidence" was manufactured.
No one believed me.
I froze to death in that sub-zero hellhole.
As the cold claimed me, staring at my blue-purple fingers, all I felt was pure, burning hate.
Then I opened my eyes again—back to the day it all began.

I was their real daughter.

The lost princess they found, brought home, and promised to protect.

But every time she cried, I was the one punished.

Every time she bled, I was the one accused.

When she disappeared, they said it was my fault. They tore my memories apart to prove it.

Fine , only if they stand where I stood, feel what I felt, will they ever know my pain.

Born in the slums, Wendy was heartlessly dumped by her self made boyfriend.
"You're not good enough for me."
She sneered, smashed his Ferrari, then climbed into a limited edition hypercar and drove away.
What her ex never knew was that the "burden" he abandoned was the one who made him successful.
Then her birth mother, who had abandoned her years ago, suddenly returned and demanded that Wendy go home and marry in place of her disabled sister.
Wendy smiled.
"Fine. If you all want me back so badly, I'll come home. And I'll repay every single one of you."

I was the hottest A-list actress in Hollywood, until a few deepfaked videos of me "abusing assistants" and malicious photos of my "rotting face" dragged me straight to hell.
In just one month, I became a monster despised by the entire internet.
Facing tens of thousands of death threats telling me to "die with a rotting face."
They wanted me to die crying. I didn't. Instead, I decided to express my deepest gratitude to the bullies who ruined my life.
And my "thank you" is going to cost a fortune.
But I never imagined the real monster wasn't hiding behind a screen—he was holding the syringe.

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.

"She doesn't even have a place to stay. She’d never dare to divorce me," my husband sneered, reassuring his mistress.

On the day of the horrific car crash, I was trapped inside a burning vehicle, screaming for help. My husband ignored my cries, picked up his mistress, and walked away without looking back.

That was the moment my heart died. I signed the divorce papers and vanished from his life.

But a month later, the very man who had treated me with absolute coldness was on his knees before me, his eyes bloodshot with tears.

This time, it’s his turn to beg.

My stepsister and I tumbled down the stairs together. As someone with a blood clotting disorder, my spleen ruptured—I was bleeding internally, desperate for surgery to stop it.
But my mother—the renowned chief of surgery—pulled every specialist from the ER. To consult on my stepsister's condition.
All she had was a sprained ankle. Not even a scratch. Yet mom insisted on running every test in the book. And me? Left alone on that cold floor, bleeding out, half my body already soaked in blood.
I clutched at her pants, begging her to save me. But she kicked my hand away and looked at me with pure disgust.
"Lily, are you really so desperate for a man's attention that you'd pull a cheap stunt like this? Your sister's foot is swollen—and you have the nerve to fake your death here?"
In the end, I died alone in a corner of that ignored ER.
But when they wheeled my cold body out of the morgue—and they finally learned about my clotting disorder—
That mother who claimed to hate me completely lost her mind.

Pain wasn't just a feeling, it was a rusted, serrated blade dragging inch by excruciating inch from my gut to my sternum.

I forced my eyes open against the harsh, unforgiving fluorescents of the ICU. Gauze. So much gauze, heavy and soaked with my own blood.

"Recipient's heart is stable. No signs of rejection."

The nurse’s hushed voice bled through the crack in the door.

"But bed one... the delay was too long. Her uterus was necrotic. We had to remove it."

I bit down on my cracked lip until I tasted copper.

So this was it.

The grand finale my beloved family had orchestrated for me.

Intro: When she found the wolf cub, she touched him and saw a vision—the grown version of him standing atop a mountain of corpses, ten thousand wolves prostrate at his feet. She named him Little King. Sixteen years. She taught him to fight, to control his transformation, to ride atop pain. The first full sentence he ever learned was "Whoever hurts you, I'll kill." On a blizzard night, he curled up at her door and kept watch through the whole night, just to say, "I was afraid you'd be cold." She almost said, "Don't leave me." But what came out in the end was something else.

I drank myself into a stomach perforation, all to secure investment for Mu Jingshen's company.

As I was wheeled into the emergency room, blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. I heard a doctor shouting: "Where's the next of kin? We need a signature for surgery, now!"

My hands shaking violently, I dialed Mu Jingshen's number.
His contact was saved under "A Hubby", pinned to the very top of my contact list, just so I'd never miss a single call from him.

The call connected, and I forced out every last bit of my strength to speak, my voice weak and trembling:
"Jingshen, I need emergency surgery. Can you come sign the consent forms for me, please..."

But it wasn't his voice that came through the line. It was Shen Wanrong's, sweet and cloying: "Jiejie, Jingshen's busy giving Huanhuan a bath right now."

The sound of running water stopped.
I heard him ask who was on the phone.

Shen Wanrong spoke in a hurt, plaintive whine: "It's Jiejie... Jingshen, do you want to take the call? What if it's an emergency?"

But he just said, his voice flat and dismissive: "Ignore her. Nothing could ever be more important than being here for Huanhuan's birthday."

Huanhuan was Shen Wanrong's pet dog.

On the night my husband’s assistant staged her 99th suicide threat, he hung my grandmother from a helicopter.
“Selena, apologize to Shirley publicly—across every platform—or I’ll drop her into the sea.”
Watching my grandmother’s terrified face suspended in midair, my voice trembled with pain:
“Elvis, just because I called her a homewrecker… you’d threaten Grandma’s life?”
Elvis smiled, his tone dripping with indulgence. “Shirley isn’t like you. She’s sensitive.”
“Besides, I’m only asking you to apologize. It doesn’t mean I’ve stopped loving you.”
Loving me?
I stared at the 999 intimate photos of him and Shirley on my phone, feeling as if my heart had been brutally stabbed.
If that was his idea of love, then I wanted no part of it.
I texted my mentor: “I accept the offer. I’ll go abroad for the design competition in seven days.”
In seven days, I’ll stage my death and disappear—where he can never find me again.

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.

My husband Eric couldn't speak after a car accident three years ago. Three years of silence. Not one word.

To pay for his rehab, I worked four jobs at once—worked until I was coughing up blood, until I collapsed. Winter nights, Leo and I huddled under one threadbare blanket. When my son spiked a fever and I had no money for medicine, I stayed up all night pressing wet rags to his burning forehead.

Eric? His only communication was cold texts, ordering me around. When Leo reached for a hug, he'd push him away like our son didn't exist.

I endured it all. Because deep down, I believed the accident was my fault.

Until that night.

I was hauling equipment at Selena's concert—Selena, the pop star everyone knew—when a mystery guest in a mask stepped on stage. They sang together, voices blending like they'd done this a thousand times.

That voice. That lightning-shaped scar on his elbow.

My "mute" husband of three years.

I followed him backstage. Through the door, I heard Selena's laugh: "Congrats, Eric. Your mute act is almost over—you won the bet."

Three years of sacrifice.

All of it just a game. A bet with his first love.

I gave up MIT for them in my last life.
They paid me back by stealing my lab notes, framing me for misconduct, and choosing her over me when I drowned.
I watched them choose her over me a hundred times
Now I’m 17 again. I block all three and fly to MIT.
They think I’m throwing a tantrum.
Wait till they find out who saved them out of that cave—

At my mother's funeral, I stopped outside the lounge.

Through the door, I heard Julian—my fiancé—delivering a cold warning to my father:

"You can stop obsessing over Harper, Richard. She's with me now. Don't bother her anymore."

My father immediately tried to use me to suppress him. "Don't forget you're marrying Sloane next week! If she finds out you're screwing the orphan her mother took in..."

Julian cut him off. "She'll never know. Just like she'll never know her mother didn't actually die of depression. She killed herself because she caught you two together."

Father's counterattack threw me straight into hell:

"What right do you have to judge me?! When Sloane was frantic, calling you for help, what were you doing? If you hadn't been rolling around in a hotel bed with Harper, if you hadn't lied to Sloane that you were 'on your way,' her mother would never have died!"

A violent ringing filled my ears.

I slammed the door open, stormed in, and slapped Julian across the face with every ounce of strength I had left.

The man I was supposed to marry in seven days merely turned his head. It took him exactly one second to suppress his shock.

"Since you heard everything, good. Better to accept reality now, so you don't break down later."

"For the sake of the Vance family heir you're carrying, the wedding next week proceeds as planned."

"But I have responsibilities to Harper, too. That tie won't be severed."

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.

I have been tormented by a strange illness for ten years, with blood draws and surgeries being commonplace.
My mother always encouraged me, saying, "Nian Nian, bear with it a little longer. The pain will be over soon. Mom and Dad are doing this to save your life."
Hoping to be cured as soon as possible, I gritted my teeth and endured ten years of painful treatments, even if it meant living like a lab subject.
That was until I accidentally overheard my parents’ cruel conversation:
“Increase the blood draw even more. It doesn’t matter if she dies—she was only picked up to save Ying Ying. As long as she has a breath left, she owes it to us.”
At that moment, I finally understood: I was never sick at all.
The decade of daily treatments were nothing but a way to use me to extend the life of their biological daughter.

The story is unique, interesting and have richly developed characters. It also has intricate plot twists and combined element of fantasy suspence and romance.

Chloe Hudson gave up everything—including her health—for a man who never loved her. Married to Hank Collins only in name, she's endured a year of cold rejection while he lavished his love on another: her own half-sister, Irene. Just when Chloe decides to walk away, a twist of fate changes everything—she's pregnant. But instead of joy, her news is met with cruelty. Hank demands she abort the child, claiming only the woman he loves deserves his baby.
Heartbroken but not broken, Chloe chooses to fight—for her child, her dignity, and a future beyond betrayal. As secrets unravel and loyalties are tested, a familiar figure from her past steps in: Ryan Cooper, a man who once loved her and never stopped.
Will Chloe finally find the love she deserves? Or will her past drag her down before she can rise?

For six years, I sold my body to underground clinics as a human lab rat to cure my son's heart failure and pay off my husband's debts.

Today, my biological brother kicked away the medicine I bought with half my life.

"Lucas was never sick. We faked the medical records to teach you a lesson for upsetting Virginia."

My husband coldly chimed in:

"I never went bankrupt either."

Even the son I bled to birth stabbed my arm, screaming, "A bloody monster like you doesn't deserve to be my mom!"

I finally realized my entire life was a meticulously crafted scam.

With my organs rapidly failing and only ten days left to live, I stepped onto the edge of the balcony.

"You're right," I smiled at my husband and brother, watching the color completely drain from their faces. "Six years of my life isn't enough to apologize to her."

"So I'll pay you with my corpse."

Do you want to touch it?"

Princess Katrinetta gasped and nodded, her hand reaching out to stroke him.

He shifted on top of her, coming up onto his elbows so that she was straddled beneath him. His hips were wide, and the powerful muscles beneath her hands had her yearning for him more than ever. She rocked her lower body up in an attempt to meet him, never dreaming her fist time would be like this!


Why choose just one man when she can have them all?

Cassius is strong and bold.
Jate is passionate and loyal.
Reeve is mysterious and brave.
And then there's Eliason... the man she's loved since she was a young teen.
How can she pick just one?

Princess Katrinetta will be queen of Yewforia one day. At the age of 21, embarks upon her Choosing, a time when Representatives from every realm will travel to Castle Wrenbrook to prove to the princess they are worthy of her love. But as Kit gets to know the men, she realizes it will be impossible for her to only choose one of them to rule Yewforia with her.

When she discovers that her mother, Queen Rona, isn't just cruel to her, she's mistreating the citizens of the land, Kit and her men work together to stop her mother and her sinister plan.

Will Kit's plans to keep all seven of the men she loves and still become queen work?

Full of steamy bedroom scenes, Realm of the Chosen: A Reverse Harem Romance, is for mature readers.

As the only mute player in this horror game, I thought I was screwed.

Turns out the boss knows sign language.

Thank God! Perfect!

Then he gets everything completely wrong.

I sign "help me," he reads it as "you're hot."

I sign "danger," he thinks I'm saying "I like you."

I sign "get lost," and he goes, "You want me to come closer? Okay."

The worst part? I curse him out in sign language, calling him a psycho pervert.

He just smiles and says, "Baby, you're so good at flirting. I can't even bring myself to kill you now."

Me: ...

My teammate whispers to me, "Please stop signing. Every time you do, he stares at you even more like a psycho."

Everyone said I’d traded five years of my youth and my unwavering devotion for an engagement that every woman envied.
My fiancé, Felix Smith, seemed to believe it, too. He gave me pearls, promised me a bright future, and wrapped me up in a web of tenderness, layer after layer.
Until that afternoon, when he held me close, yet used a language he thought I didn’t understand to weave the perfect "wedding" con over the phone.
That was the moment I finally realized: over these five years, who had he really been looking at through me? And every pearl he ever gave me, whose tastes was he remembering?
When the elevator failed and darkness crashed down, the person he protected on instinct wasn’t me.
When the wind howled across the empty outskirts, the person he chose to abandon was me.
I’d been learning how to love him, how to become a proper bride. In the end, what I learned was how to exit quietly, out of his world with Serena.
Only when I slipped off that pearl ring did I understand—
Some love stories, from the very beginning, are nothing but long letters written to someone else.

My mate, Valerius, was struck by a soul-splitting curse from hunters, fracturing him into a dual personality.

The rabid persona is brutal and cold-blooded. His heart holds only his childhood sweetheart, and he casts me aside like worthless trash.

Yet, when lucid, he is my deeply devoted lover—the man who sees me as his absolute salvation.

But the man who deeply loves me is slipping away.

It culminated on the night of the hunter ambush.

I dragged my shattered leg, barely surviving a sea of fire. Yet, to comfort his startled childhood sweetheart, he turned his back and walked away.

In the moment he left, I finally let go.

Because the eyes that had just abandoned me for her... were the deep, dark gold of his lucid state.

Later, when I accepted a deal to erase all traces of my existence and give them their happy ending, he completely lost his mind...

“Has all the ingredients for an instant success: plots, counterplots, mystery, valiant knights, and blossoming relationships replete with broken hearts, deception and betrayal. It will keep you entertained for hours, and will satisfy all ages. Recommended for the permanent library of all fantasy readers.” --Books and Movie Reviews, Roberto Mattos (re The Sorcerer’s Ring)“The beginnings of something remarkable are there.” --San Francisco Book Review (re A Quest of Heroes)From #1 bestseller Morgan Rice, author of A Quest of Heroes (over 1,300 five star reviews) comes the debut of a startlingly new fantasy series. REALM OF DRAGONS (Age of the Sorcerers—Book One) tells the story of the epic coming of age of one very special 16 year old boy, a blacksmith’s son from a poor family who is offered no chance of proving his fighting skills and breaking into the ranks of the nobles. Yet he holds a power he cannot deny, and a fate he must follow.It tells the story of a 17 year old princess on the eve of her wedding, destined for greatness—and of her younger sister, rejected by her family and dying of plague.It tells the tale of their three brothers, three princes who could not be more different from each other—all of them vying for power.It tells the story of a kingdom on the verge of change, of invasion, the story of the dying dragon race, falling daily from the sky.It tells the tale of two rival kingdoms, of the rapids dividing them, of a landscape dotted with dormant volcanoes, and of a capital accessible only with the tides. It is a story of love, passion, of hate and sibling rivalry; of rogues and hidden treasure; of monks and secret warriors; of honor and glory, and of betrayal and deception.It is the story of Dragonfell, a story of honor and valor, of sorcerers, magic, fate and destiny. It is a tale you will not put down until the early hours, one that will transport you to another world and have you fall in in love with characters you will never forget. It appeals to all ages and genders. Books two and three (THRONE OF DRAGONS and BORN OF DRAGONS) are now available for pre-order.“A spirited fantasy ….Only the beginning of what promises to be an epic young adult series.” --Midwest Book Review (re A Quest of Heroes)“Action-packed …. Rice's writing is solid and the premise intriguing.” --Publishers Weekly (re A Quest of Heroes)

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.

I severed our Mate Bond with my own hands.

In that moment, I lay unconscious, bleeding under the silvery moonlight, while he knelt some distance away, clutching his chest as if he had been hollowed out.

Once, he shielded me from nine silver stakes, only to crown another woman; he placed my protective pendant around her neck, then cast me into a water prison. He professed, “I love only you,” yet stood outside my hospital room, nursing her child as if it were his own.

I loathed him, resolved to leave.

I believed this was the end.

Little did I know, as I thought I had finally gained my freedom, he would chase after the debts of blood and regret, intruding upon the new life I was rebuilding—

To redeem a love that no longer sought redemption.

My wife, the most ruthless godmother in New York's underworld, wants a divorce.
The reason? Her male subordinate's old wound has flared up, and he only has three months to live. She wants to accompany him on his final journey as his wife.
To make room for her new lover, she not only doesn't go home, but even allows him to frame me for a fabricated death sentence.
In the dimly lit underground interrogation room, the backlash from deviating from the proper procedures caused my organs to rapidly fail, and I developed a persistent high fever.
Through the iron bars, she looked at my disfigured body, not recognizing me, but coldly raising her gun and giving the order to execute me herself.
She proudly believed that by clearing the way, she could go back and have a grand wedding with the man who was feigning illness.
Until the last shot, when my breathing stopped completely, she saw the old scar on the back of my left hand—the scar from the severed finger I had left for her.
That once arrogant godmother instantly broke down in tears beside my corpse.

Everyone says love is the strongest feeling in the world. That you can do anything for the ones you love.

I don't agree with them.

There is no emotion stronger than betrayal. It is a powerful weapon that can make you do anything, be anything.

Especially when that betrayal comes from the people you put above everything else.
.
.
.
Locked away her entire life, Eloise only craved one thing, freedom to run around in her shifted form like other werewolves. But when her 18th birthday came, she was told she was going to get married. The news triggered her wolf and she began to shift. She was taken by surprise when her family used their witch magic to lock her wolf inside her. The magic pushed into her was too much that she blacked out.

When Eloise regained consciousness, she couldn't feel her wolf inside her anymore. But that became the least of her problems as she realized she was no longer among her kind, she was in the midst of dragons. Creatures who hunt her kind for fun.

She was given one choice to escape execution. She must learn how to use her unstable magic to heal the dragon shifters of a terrible plague.

Betrayed by her family and left with no other options, Eloise enrolled in Drakmor College, where she must survive deadly trials and hatred of the students surrounding her.

A werewolf in the midst of her mortal enemies. Will she survive and return safely to her kind, or will she succumb to the horrors of Varethin?

I was cursed, trapped in a "Trial of Sincerity"—I could only regain my freedom if she spoke the words "I love you" from the bottom of her heart.
For five years, I’ve taken bullets for her, gone to prison for her, and stood on the brink of death four times. She would only call me "my best friend" or say "I need you," but she never uttered those three words.
Four times, she abandoned me as I lay dying, rushing instead to the side of another man.
The fifth time, with a bullet in my abdomen and my insides exposed, I lay on the operating table. She finally wept, screaming "I love you"—once, twice... twelve times in total.
Too bad. After waking up from that fourth brush with death, I had already signed a Do-Not-Resuscitate (DNR) order.
This time, my heart has stopped beating. Not because of my wounds, but because I’ve made my choice: I won't let her save me.

My boyfriend's mistress deliberately gave me a strawberry cake that I'm allergic to.
After I went into anaphylactic shock and had a miscarriage, I knew it was all over.
But when I left it all behind and went back to my hometown, he showed up at my door telling me to quit throwing a fit, that he still loved me.
This kind of love full of betrayal?
I don't want it.

Ten thousand years after Carlotta's accidental fall, pure humans have long been extinct, genetically evolved orcs dominate the world, they are valiant and warlike, possessing near-perfectly strong physiques and extraordinary fighting strength, the only drawback is that females are scarce. The only drawback is the scarcity of females. Male orcs will burst into heat when they reach adulthood, and will go crazy if there is no female to appease them. When the only pure human girl with sss-level guidance ability comes to the future of the orc world, the whole continent goes crazy. When learned that she was born pregnant body, can for the heir of the king beast breeding top pure blood offspring, all parties big brother is scrambling to pander to snatch broken skull, just to be able to get the beauty favor, and her to make baby to raise pups ......