2491 Book(s) Related to twilight books in order to read

I sold myself for $50,000.

My uncle’s belt taught me that home is hell. So when I saw the ad—$50k for three months as a prison “mental coach”—I signed without reading the fine print.

Big mistake.

I’m not a coach. I’m the 51st volunteer. And I’m being locked inside a cell with him.

A mafia heir. A convicted killer. The most dangerous inmate in maximum security.

On our first night, he pins me against the wall. “Here, my word is law.”

He says I’m just a tool for his early release. He says he’ll protect me—if I obey.

I try to hate him. But when other inmates try to touch me, he breaks their bones. When I wake up screaming from nightmares, he pulls me into his bed and holds me until I stop shaking.

He calls me his.

Now the project is falling apart. Enemies are closing in. And I have to choose:

Run back to my uncle’s belt… or stay and let the monster own me.

Because the only way out of his cell… is through his heart.

The letter arrived while I was fighting a burnt piece of toast.
There was no name on the envelope, but I knew where it came from—Star Ring Academy. A place I thought only existed in my mother's diary. A place that could teach me to control my magic. A place where I wouldn't have to keep pretending to be "normal."
What I didn't expect was that this place had its own marked person too.
Kain Ashworth. Every student and teacher avoided him. They said he was a curse. Dangerous. That everyone who got close would disappear.
So when he sat alone in the last row, I walked over and sat down next to him.
Everyone thought I'd lost my mind. But they didn't know that I understood loneliness—the kind where the whole world turns its back on you—better than anyone.
Then, out of nowhere, he recognized my last name. And he said to me: "You and I are the same kind of people."
I didn't quite understand. Was he saying he knew my secret?

Blurb 

“You called me your future queen,” I whispered, staring at the mate who had just publicly rejected me.

Julian’s eyes hardened with disgust as he stepped toward my sister instead.

“You are nothing but a defective omega, Ravenna. Did you truly think I would ruin my future for someone as weak as you?”

The entire royal court laughed as my mating mark faded from my skin.

Then the palace doors exploded open.

Three Lycan kings stepped through the smoke, their terrifying presence forcing every alpha in the room to bow their heads.

And when their eyes landed on me, something ancient inside my soul finally woke up.

Mate.

Mate.

Mate.

For twenty years, Ravenna Virelle lived as the invisible princess of Valerius, hated by her family and treated like a servant while waiting for the wolf everyone believed would never come.

But the night she is exposed as a “defective omega” and offered to the brutal Lycan kings as payment for an old war debt, her dormant wolf awakens with a terrifying truth.

She is not weak.

She is the last heir of an ancient bloodline powerful enough to destroy kingdoms.

Now trapped between three possessive kings, a jealous ex-mate, and a royal family willing to kill her to keep their secrets buried, Ravenna must decide whether to run from the monster inside her…

Or become the empress the entire wolf world fears.

He called me his lucky charm. I never knew I would become the price he was willing to pay for.

Wren Kelly was never supposed to belong in Cole Ashford’s world. She was the daughter of a building manager, while he was the heir of a wealthy family and a rising tennis star.

But since childhood, Cole believed she was the secret behind every victory. Until one desperate night, Wren had no choice but to make a deal with him—four years of her life in exchange for the money that could save her mother.

She thought she was selling her freedom.

She never expected that the boy who needed her luck would one day need her heart even more.

She was a beauty queen with history, trying to live a new life in a big city. Little did she know, she is in for a big surprise destined to change her life forever.

He is a king with a longing so soul-deep, craving for the gift he had been waiting for his entire existence. What will he do when he finally finds her? Is he willing to share all his secrets just to be with her?

Romance/Non-human
MATURE CONTENT 18+

Iris Quinn had a life worth having—until her father’s arrest stripped it all away.
The charges are a lie, orchestrated by the one family she’s always loathed: the Laurents. When Caesar Laurent offers a cold-blooded trade—her hand in marriage for her father's freedom, Iris realizes exactly who she’s dealing with.
The contract arrives before she's finished being angry. Two years minimum. No escape clause.
Caesar doesn't want her heart; he doesn't even pretend to. But he underestimated one thing: Iris Quinn has spent her life refusing to be controlled, and she isn't about to start now.
Caesar is used to winning. Iris is used to surviving. Neither expected the other to be quite this good at the game. She was supposed to be his prisoner—he wasn't supposed to lose sleep over her.

A mysterious old man’s visit flips Yvette’s world, transforming her from a chaos magnet into a magic academy student. She thought the trouble was over. She was wrong.

Fumbling into forbidden zones, Encountering a man riding a dragon, and being brutally betrayed by her closest friends, Yvette is now a target—battered, bruised, and caught in endless trouble.

Then, he arrives.

A man so breathtakingly gorgeous he radiates power. He is done hiding. Stepping into the light, he chooses to face St. Daye Academy, vowing to stand by Yvette’s side forever...

Freya's POV

Cold raindrops pelted my face, mixing with the stinging pain on my cheeks. I couldn't tell if it was rain or tears.

The black Bentley's windows blocked out the noise from outside, but they couldn't block the chill radiating from the man in the back seat.

Blake Jenkins held an unlit cigar between his fingers, his eyes as cold as ice.

When his gaze swept over me, there wasn't a trace of warmth—only deep-seated hatred.

"Freya Stewart, remember your place."

His voice was low and hoarse, each word drilling clearly into my ears.

"Starting today, you're no longer the adopted daughter the Jenkins family doted on. Now you're just a nanny, a servant to wait on Lena."

My body trembled violently, my fingers clutching desperately at the hem of my clothes.

I lifted my head, eyes red and rimmed with tears, my voice shaking uncontrollably: "Blake, you went through all this trouble to find me just to make me a nanny for you and Lena Johnson? Why should I? What happened back then..."

"Shut up!" Blake cut me off sharply, crushing the cigar hard into the ashtray.

"You still dare bring up what happened back then? If it weren't for you, how would my parents have died so horribly? I almost didn't survive either! If it weren't for your gambling-addicted father, how would Lena have ended up disabled, stuck in a wheelchair for life!"

1

The night before the engagement, Rosaline was tricked by her cousin. She was drunk and sent to a stranger’s room. She broke free from their control, went to the next room through the window, and had a one-night stand with a mysterious man.

She didn't want to have anything to do with him, so she matched wits with him and finally escaped. The man stared at silhouette with a smile: "You will never escape from me."

It was five years later when they met again. Neither of them recognized each other, but she was stopped by him in a dramatic way,
"Sir, anything can I do for you?"
"Yes."
"So, what's the matter?"
"I need a wife." He looked at her, and his lips twitching slightly.
"Sir, I don't quite understand what you mean."
"I needed a wife, and you are just the right one for me."
"What! Why?"
"I don't like women who are too beautiful or too smart."
“...”
"I'll see you at the Bureau House at ten a.m. tomorrow."
“...”
What?Was she proposed by the richest bachelor in this City!

"Our meeting was as impossible as two moons sharing the same sky…”
Nyxara has only one goal—to destroy the Blackmoon Royal Family. At Blackwood Academy for Supernaturals, Nyxara awakens powers no one has ever witnessed before. She becomes the first person in history to bond with Ignivar, the legendary Xerax Dragon, while the golden Fire Wolf sealed inside her since birth finally awakens. Her greatest enemy soon becomes her unwanted shadow. Logan Blackmoon—the arrogant Crown Prince of the Werewolf Kingdom—cannot stay away from the fearless girl who dares to challenge him at every turn. Then a mysterious transfer student named Dark arrives at the academy.

Elsie looked forward to the day she would turn eighteen, wanting to find her mate so she could be free from the torment of her stepmother, the ruthless Luna who had taken over her pack after her father’s death.

Things get worse when her stepbrothers, the notorious Alpha triplets return, and they continue to abuse and mistreat her, taking her as their very own plaything. Even still, Elsie believed she had a chance to escape.

But what happens when the mate she had been yearning for all her life turns out to be the step brothers who despise her?

Will Elsie find a way to evade her fate? Or will she succumb to the mate bond?

“Well, now you’re a widow,” he said, smearing the blood of the man I had just married across my face before pulling his hand away. “What a pity. I am going to make you my mistress too",

“And nobody runs from me, mate.”

“I, Orion Henderson, reject you, Lyra Onyxvale, as my mate and the future Luna of the Crescent Pack. I also reject the bastard in your stomach you claim is my child. I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last woman on earth. And if I truly am the one who impregnated you, may the Moon Goddess strike me dead right here, right now.”

He announced it in front of the whole pack, holding the scarred cursed scroll in his arms.

I looked up, waiting for the thunder that should have struck him down for his lies. He was the father of my child, I knew it. But the Moon Goddess turned her back on me when I needed her most. Nothing happened. And that was enough to make everyone believe I was a whore, trying to pin my pregnancy on the Alpha.

“Since my innocence has been cleared, I hereby sentence you and your unborn child to death by stoning.”


After suffering seventeen years of bullying from her pack, Lyra thought her only salvation would come from finding her mate. But fate was cruel. Her mate turned out to be Orion, the Alpha of the Crescent Pack, and her younger sister’s boyfriend.

When Orion slept with her, she thought it meant the end of his affair. Instead, he abandoned her the next morning. Weeks later, when she discovered she was pregnant, he refused to claim the child. Worse, he framed her and sentenced her to death.

But fate had other plans. Lyra was given a second chance mate… two, in fact. The Valentino brothers. Damien, the ruthless Lycan King who kills for sport, and Damian, the brilliant tech genius with a dangerous past.

Would they be her salvation, or destroy what's left of her heart?

Adrianna is forced to marry a prince, rumoured to be a demon - the son of the devil himself. Her life takes a sad turn when she discovers she is only a tool for revenge.
    What will happen when her guide, Eva, informs her she is the only way to bring back light into Austeria? Follow the love story between Adrianna, a humble Prince with a pure soul - and Rainier, the demon Prince, in their quest to retrieve the lost Kingdom of Austeria.

Skylar Richardson has two rules: don't get caught, and don't let anyone tell her what to do.

By night, she runs with a skater gang, ruling the city's streets with her crew. By day, she's the alpha's daughter—heir to a pack she wants nothing to do with, trapped in a life that feels like a cage.

When Micah Quinn transfers to her school, quiet and unassuming with a camera always around his neck, Skylar sees easy prey. The perfect target to remind everyone who runs this territory.

But Micah isn't afraid of her. He doesn't flinch when her crew corners him. He doesn't beg when one of her gang shoves him. And when he calls the police instead of backing down, Skylar's perfectly hidden double life starts to unravel.

She runs. A car hits her. She wakes up in the hospital—face to face with the boy she tried to bully.

The twist? His mother is the woman her father is planning to marry. Now Micah and his mother are moving into the pack mansion to plan the wedding.

Trapped under the same roof, Skylar and Micah form an uneasy alliance: she'll help him stop the wedding if he keeps her skater identity a secret. But forced proximity is a dangerous game—and somewhere between late-night negotiations and shared secrets, enemies start to feel like something else entirely.

She wanted to destroy him. Now she needs him to survive.

And he's the only one who can keep her from destroying herself.

Accepting her fate as a slave, Danica Grimsley, the low born Omega never thought that she had to share her love not with her mate Konrad Winston only but with his enemy as well, Cassius Winston, the king of Lycans. When secrets threatened to spoil her life, Danica needed to choose between revenge and fate. Worst of all, both Alphas wanted not just her body but her soul.

Dalia Bloodoath has known nothing but rejection. Branded a bad omen as the black wolf of Bloodmoon Pack, she was betrayed by her father, despised by her sister, and left motherless before she could even remember her face.
When her father trades her to the Lycan Kingdom, Dalia expects another prison—until she discovers the truth. The Lycan King himself is her fated mate.
Alaric Muskbane has ruled with steel and silence since the murder of his mother and the loss of the mate he believed he could never replace.
Hardened by grief, he refuses to accept another bond—especially with the daughter of a pack steeped in betrayal. Yet the mark on Dalia’s skin, the fire in her blood, and the prophecy she carries make her impossible to ignore.
But fate is never simple.
Shadows stir in the cursed woods. Rogues gather under a rogue king who seems to be determined to end the werewolf race as we know it.
As past lives unravel through dreams and ancient ruins, Dalia and Alaric must face the truth: they have loved and lost each other before. And if history repeats itself, she may die again–this time with more lives at stake.
Caught between deception and destiny, betrayal and forgiveness, Dalia must choose: surrender to fear, or embrace the power of the black wolf and fight for a love that defies death itself.

When I called my husband with trembling hands, clutching my cancer diagnosis, all I heard was his sweet laughter with his young, hot influencer girlfriend. Ten years of marriage, and when I needed him most, he chose betrayal.

In divorce court, I was painted as the "crazy ex-wife" while the entire internet mocked me. Everyone took their side. No one knew I was fighting for my life.

Until the day he finally learned the truth.

I remember that frost-covered train door like it was the last thing I ever saw. Because it was.
The escape spot I’d spent three years scraping together? My fiancée was sitting in it, wearing my parka. Her brother had my hiking boots on his feet. Her mother clutched the medical kit I’d carried six miles through ash-covered roads. And Caleb Frost—the ex she’d sworn was just “someone from the past”—stood in the seat that should have been mine, lifting my silver emergency flask in a toast.
While I froze out in the subzero ash storm, my lungs burning like they were filled with shards of broken glass, they turned their backs to me under the warm yellow light inside.
Then I woke up.
The calendar read May 3, 2041. Exactly one year before the Yellowstone chain eruption would turn the northern hemisphere into a frozen grave.
On the TV, experts were still downplaying the volcanic tremors, insisting there was no immediate risk to the public. My fiancée walked into the bedroom wearing one of my white shirts, carrying coffee in the blue mug she’d bought with my card. She reached for my forehead, asking if I’d had a bad dream.
None of them know I’ve already died once.
They’re still plotting how to make me pay for her brother’s failed investments, how to sneak texts to her old boyfriend, how to use me as their most obedient, most useful doormat until the world ends. I’ve sold the downtown office towers, mortgaged the lakefront house, bought the abandoned geothermal station no one wanted in the dead mountains, and signed a stack of engineering contracts they’ll never bother to read.
They still smile and thank me, tell me I’m the best fiancé in the world.
They have no idea who will be holding the key to the door, when the sky goes dark forever and the snow never stops falling.

“Smile, Natalie,” Callum whispered before he walked onstage.

So I smiled while he thanked another woman for the crisis plan I had written. I smiled when he pinned my grandmother’s sapphire brooch to her dress. I even smiled when his message came in, canceling our nineteenth appointment at the county clerk’s office.

Then I walked out with our unsigned marriage license papers in my purse and called the one CEO he hated most.

By the time Callum realized I wasn’t waiting anymore, I had already taken my name, my work, and my future back.

In Heaven, there exists an iron law: during the Ascension Ceremony, if a bride fails nine times to complete the bonding flight with her groom's Divine Cloak, her soul is deemed tainted, and she will be cast into the Abyss for seven centuries of penance.
I was once Heaven's greatest warrior, until I threw myself before the hellfire meant for Archangel Gabriel—and lost my wings forever.
I endured eight Ascension ceremonies. Each time, Gabriel found a reason to delay.
Then came the ninth. My last chance. One flight bound to his Divine Cloak, and I would soar again—my name cleared, my honor restored.
But atop the ceremonial tower, he unclasped the cloak from his own shoulders and wrapped it around Irene, the trembling Healing Angel.
"Cecilia, Irene needs this more. You're strong—you'll survive the fall."
He'd forgotten one thing: without wings, this height would kill me.
I didn't beg. I simply met his eyes—and stepped off the edge.
I woke in the arms of the Demon Lord I'd once shown mercy.
He spread ten pairs of wings that blotted out the heavens and carried me back to Heaven as his queen.
And Gabriel—that proud Archangel—knelt at my feet, tears streaming, begging me to look at him just once more.

I gave my Alpha fiancé to my stepsister.

My mother's face lit up. "You're giving Damon to Maya? Don't come crying later, Kira. That man is the most powerful Alpha alive."

I won't. Never again.

Last life, I married him. Suffocated for three years.

He wanted a perfect Luna. I showed up to the full moon gala in a mini skirt. The elite ladies circled in—*"Shameless. Like a bitch in heat."* Damon walked over, draped his jacket over my shoulders.

I thought he was protecting me.

"Must you embarrass me like this?" His voice cut like ice. "Every damn time."

That's when I knew: he loved the perfect Luna. Not me.

Then came the conservative gowns, endless etiquette training, and every time I fought back—*"Pack law, Kira. Obey."*

Until the flames took me, I swore: If I ever got another chance, I would never marry that man.

I woke the night before our engagement and pushed the contract away. "Let Maya be his perfect Luna. I just want my freedom."

But I didn't expect—

When Damon discovered the switch, the cold Alpha completely lost it.

After months of being bullied at school, things got even worse—the bullies said they wanted to come to my house.
Wanted to see what kind of family a "dog" like me came from.
I begged them, sobbing, not to do it.
Because my dad is a serial killer. My mom is a twisted murderer. And my brother is a full-blown psychopath.
If they come to my house, they will die.

Eighty-eight times.
That was how many times I had put on a white dress, or packed my ID, heading to the registry office to marry Harrison Churchill. And eighty-eight times, I ended up in an ambulance.
The first time, it was a street drive-by. A bullet tore through my shoulder just two blocks from City Hall.
The fifteenth time, a car bomb shattered three of my ribs.
The forty-second time, a steel frame plummeted from a construction site, cracking my skull.
......And this time?
The eighty-eighth time. A massive cargo container "accidentally" slipped from a crane at the docks, crushing my car.
Maybe, it’s time to say goodbye.

"Where is my son?"
My husband wouldn't look at me.
I had just come out of anesthesia. The bassinet next to my hospital bed was empty — except for a stack of cash, a christening card, and a ring pinned to the corner of the card.
The card had another woman's name in the godmother box.
That woman walked in behind my husband. She picked up the ring and slid it onto her own finger.
"He's safe, sweetheart. We've been talking about this for months."
My husband is Damiano Marchetti. He runs the family that runs this city. The woman wearing the ring is his father's young widow.
The baby on that card is my son.
For four years now I have been the woman this house pretends not to see. The wife told to use the servants' entrance. The mother of a boy who calls another woman Mommy.
Last night I asked my husband for a divorce.
He laughed in my face.
He has no idea how much that's going to cost him.

We’ve been married for almost a month, yet my Alpha keeps hiding in the study to avoid me.
He would rather give me a cheap vial of synthetic bonding pheromones than bare his fangs at me.
I thought I was just the unwanted substitute for my runaway sister, that he felt absolutely nothing for me.
I slammed the door and left, heading to the Moon Well to confide. But the moment my blood dripped in, the Alpha's voice echoed:
"I finally married her... but I was born with a curse. How do I mark her without hurting her the moment I bite down..."

The Vane family has carried the vampire's curse for generations. Of every pair of twin sisters born into our bloodline, one will not live to see twenty-five.

Everyone assumed it was my sister — the one always coughing up blood.

Nobody knew that for twenty years, every full moon, the one gritting her teeth through the pain, never making a sound, was me.

The Divine took pity on me and gave me three chances. Win the genuine love of my parents, my brother, or my husband — any one of them — and the curse would lift.

Three chances. Three failures.

The only hope I had left was the baby inside me, seven months along. Bring him into this world, and I'd live.

Then my husband kicked open my hospital room door. My own brother pulled on a surgical gown and picked up a knife. My parents signed the forms outside.

They were going to cut me open, take the last thing keeping me alive, and use it to save my "cursed" sister.

After my life slipped away entirely, the truth came out.

So why is it that the people who sent me to my death are the ones who lost their minds?

I helped Cassian conquer the seven floating cities and claim the Dragon Throne.
On the day he became king, he cast me aside for a lowborn dragon girl.
I exposed her as an Abyss spy, and she killed herself before the court.
Cassian thanked me in public, but he never forgave me for taking her away.
Years later, he accused me of serving the Abyss, slaughtered my entire fire-wing clan, and burned me alive.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at his coronation.
This time, I'm not saving his throne. I'm burning it down.

My billionaire husband handed me a pill and a separation agreement.
"Take this temporary amnesia drug. You'll forget me for a few weeks while I marry Chloe to fulfill her dying wish. Don't worry, I'll give you the antidote later."
He expected me to scream, cry, and beg him to stay. Instead, I swallowed the pill dry and calmly packed my bags.
Day 3: I tossed my heirloom Cartier engagement ring to his mistress without batting an eye.
Day 12: I accidentally witnessed his wedding rehearsal, critiqued his recycled vows with a straight face, and left him standing there, terrified by my absolute indifference.
He thought I was just acting tough. He didn't know I was the neuroscientist who created that drug. There is no antidote. In 21 days, all my love for him will be permanently and irreversibly erased.
But how hard will a man break when he realizes his wife is already on a one-way flight to Switzerland, and she doesn't even remember his name?

On our fifth anniversary, Caspian gifted me a luxury yacht bearing my name. Everyone said I was the luckiest woman alive.
But when I finally conceived his child and prepared to share the news, his mistress sent me photos—him cradling a baby she'd given him, his eyes filled with a tenderness I'd never seen.
Five years of waiting, five years of infertility—all an elaborate lie.
He once whispered in my ear: "Even if every man in the world betrays his wife, I never will. You're my life. Without you, I can't survive."
I quietly packed, left behind my pregnancy report and all the evidence, and drove away. Three hours later, he received the call: my car exploded on the highway. No survivors.
From that day on, the most powerful man in Valen City lost his mind completely.

I saw a post on Reddit, "Urgent! How do I convince my wife to donate bone marrow to my mistress?"

I scoffed and typed back, "What a piece of shit."

Right after I hit send, my husband came home. He grasped my hand, his voice shaky: "You have leukemia... but it's okay, we found a donor."

His right eye twitched—he always did that when he lied.

Then I remembered the worst comment on that post, "Trick your wife into thinking she's the patient."

Life imitating the internet, apparently.

He wanted to harvest my bone marrow for someone else.

When I finally saw his mistress's face, my world fell apart.

I never thought his mistress would be her......

I took a bullet for my husband five years ago. He married me in the ICU before the anesthesia wore off.
Raffaele Santoro—heir to the most powerful mafia family in Italy—told me I was his everything. He bought a castle and named it after me. He reserved a grave beside his parents so we'd lie together for eternity.
While I was pumping my body full of hormones for our fourth round of IVF, he was across town watching his childhood sweetheart give birth to twin boys.
He named one of them Dante—the name I'd chosen for our future son.
The night I found out, I was seven weeks pregnant with his child.
I didn't tell him.
I called my best friend and said: I need everyone to think I'm dead.

After the crash, my husband, Darius, lost his ability to speak. The trauma to his cervical spine left him unable to even lift a finger.
The doctors said his only remaining way to communicate was to nod, or to shake his head.
Sitting by his hospital bed, I finally asked the question that had been eating away at me for three months.
"When the crash happened... were you on your way to see your mistress?"
Darius stared dead at me. Then, slowly, he nodded.

They left me to freeze to death in our basement freezer.

The night before prom, my foster sister Leila came crying that I'd burned her Ivy League recommendation letter. My birth parents didn't even listen to one word of explanation—they threw me into that frozen hell in forty-five below.

I beat on that door until my fingers were shredded, screamed until my throat tore apart, but all I could hear from upstairs was their laughter celebrating Leila. Even Justin—the boy I'd loved since we were kids—texted calling me a fucking psycho.

As I drew my last breath, I heard Leila's soft voice outside the door: "Rest in peace, sister."

Now I'm a ghost, watching them lose their minds when the truth comes out.

Connor Mitchell and I are the golden couple of our industry. Everyone sees him as the devoted husband, always bringing me soup when I work late into the night.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, he gave me an expensive diamond necklace and posted something sweet on Instagram. The comments were all variations of the same thing: jealousy.

I used to believe it too.

Until I cut my trip to Europe short and got into that SUV. The passenger seat was set at the wrong angle, too far forward for my height. A contact lens case fell out of the sun visor, and neither of us wears contacts.

When I had my cousin pull the dashcam footage and saw him with his arm around some petite girl getting into the car, the truth hit me. My attentive husband, the one who called me every night I was away, had been using my connections and resources to play successful mentor to a twenty-two-year-old intern.

The irony is, he thinks he's gotten away with it. He has no idea I can see right through every move he makes.

Once rot sets into a perfect marriage, no amount of perfume can hide the stench.

Last time, I was the first student to walk out of the SAT.
A news crew was waiting by the doors. The camera found my face, and I made one bored little joke — the test was too easy, I'd rather be surfing in Miami. By midnight the clip had two million likes, and my whole life had a price tag on it.
An agency came knocking within the week. My parents signed the contract before I understood what I was signing away, and they pulled me out of school. I stopped being a person and became their product.
And Mia — my best friend, the girl who cried at my locker and braided my hair before exams — Mia copied my notes, rode them into Yale, and smiled into the cameras while she told the internet I'd slept my way through high school.
By the time the agency had wrung me dry, I had nothing left. No school. No name worth defending. Not one person who believed a word out of my mouth.
The night it ended, Mia came up to the roof to "talk." She said she would never forgive me for being the lucky one. Then she put both hands flat on my chest and pushed.
The last thing I saw was her face, smiling down at me over the edge.
Then I blinked — and I was back in the testing room.

"Knock on this door over the noise one more time, and you're dead!"
Calling the cops was useless, and I was too broke to move.
Driven practically insane, I recklessly tore open the black box from the dark web—the seller promised that if I just followed the instructions, it would "eliminate the noise at the source."
Less than half an hour later, the deafening rager upstairs completely stopped.
Three mornings later, a homicide detective pounded furiously on my door.
"The father and son upstairs are dead."

I’m the only princess of the Iron Claw Pack. My Alpha father chose three pure-blooded wolves from the Johnson family to grow up at my side. The man I choose won’t just be my mate—he’ll become the Pack’s next Alpha.
In my last life, I chose the younger twin, David, because he was always gentle and considerate.
But less than a year after our bonding ceremony, he died.
Only when our mate bond stirred again did I learn the truth: David had faked his death—because the one he loved was Emma.
When Rogues attacked, David threw away his life to save me, only to beg that if there were a next life, I would never choose him again.
When I opened my eyes, I was back on the day I had to choose my mate. This time, I grabbed a file at random.
It was David’s twin brother, Nate—my sworn enemy.

He was her brother’s best friend.
Her first love. Her first everything.
Six years ago, Axel “Ghost” Cruz left Emilia Romano broken. Now he’s back scarred, dangerous, and the ruthless enforcer of the Iron Serpents MC.
Her father is dead. The club is at war. And Axel is the one man she should never want.
But one touch is enough to burn it all down.
Because some desires are forbidden… and some are worth dying for.
Biker’s Forbidden Desire is a dark, steamy, forbidden biker romance full of danger, obsession, and the kind of love that breaks every rule.

For most, anime is just a hobby. For others, it is a sanctuary—the only escape from a harsh, disappointing, and often depressing reality. This is the story of a devoted fan, a "Shut-in NEET" who has turned their back on the real world to find life and meaning in the stories of 2D characters, manga, and games.
​But the lines between fiction and reality are about to vanish forever.

​When a mysterious Angel appears with a divine decree, our protagonist is plucked from their room and thrust into a literal Fantasy World. This isn't just a dream come true; it is a Mission. Given a second chance to truly live, they must now navigate a land filled with magic, peril, and wonder—armed only with the knowledge of countless anime tropes and a will to survive.
​Can a person who spent their life hiding in stories finally become the hero of their own? In a world where the stakes are real and the magic is dangerous, the ultimate challenge isn't just completing the mission—it’s learning how to finally belong.

​The story follows the life of a dedicated Anime fan (an Otaku) who feels disconnected from the harsh realities of the real world. Seeking an escape from depression and personal problems, the protagonist finds solace in anime and dreams of experiencing magical or extraordinary events. It explores the psychological boundary between fiction and reality, reflecting on people who isolate themselves to live within their imagination

Blurb

My back was pressed against one of the bookshelves in his study, my legs raised against his hips as his fingers caressed my cunt. He moved slowly but fast enough to make me tremble with pleasure.

“You…you are my sister’s husband,” I managed to say, adjusting my ragged breath.

He pushed himself against me. “Ask me to stop and I will,” he whispered in my ear.

I pressed my lips together, unable to say a word, only moans escaping my mouth.


Alexandra Coleman is forced to work as a maid for her stepmother and sister as soon as her birth father dies. All her life she has been tortured and made to believe that her life meant nothing. Until one day when her stepsister Kara gets into an arranged marriage with a wealthy CEO.

Kara falls for him without knowing who he is, and he shares the same attraction. Now that she knows who he really is, will she be able to hide her emotions for him and work as a maid?

Or will their shared attraction draw them together?

"Mum? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Amelia begged, trying to leave Fernando's side but he didn't let her.

"How could you commit such a sin, Amelia?"


My mother was a lot of things but I never knew she would dare leave her Billionaire husband on the Alter stranded.

My soon to be stepfather was a lot of things, but he wasn't one to accept humiliation. And for that reason, he made me Amelia, the daughter of my runaway mother to take her place on the alter.

Four years ago, I left on a top-secret mission, and everyone assumed I was dead.

Four years later, I returned expecting a joyful homecoming, only to be struck by a devastating nightmare: three years ago, a local cartel hanged my wife from the rafters, and my ten-year-old son was locked in a cellar, suffering unimaginable abuse.

Right now, in a local dive bar, my enemies have a gun pressed to my head. They’re laughing, mocking me, thinking I'm just some washed-up, helpless veteran they can easily crush.

But what they don't know is that just ten minutes ago, I severed the only fiber-optic cable connecting this town to the outside world.

The hunt has officially begun...

I’m a cleaner—the kind hired to make problems disappear: eliminate targets, wipe scenes, erase evidence.

Three years ago, I walked away. I took a desk job at a consulting firm, spending my days sorting files and filling spreadsheets.

To everyone else, I was an easy mark. The project lead mocked me in meetings, stole credit, and dumped every mistake on my head—always in public.

Then came the department banquet.

My enemies showed up.

The same lead who’d been riding me all year ignored my warning and blocked the hallway, drawing a crowd.

The next second, the bomb went off—and the banquet hall was sealed.

That’s when everyone finally understood who the quiet office clerk really was.

After five years of bloody battles against the Xenomorphs, I've returned alive, bearing wounds and scars.

Five years ago, my wife Lisa and I fell in love in the military.

Just as Lisa became pregnant, I received a mandatory conscription order from my superior.

The Xenomorphs launched a massive attack. Despite my reluctance, I had to go.

Now the war is over. I've laid down my burden and returned home.

Standing in the dilapidated suburbs, I search for the wife I've wronged and the child I've never met.

I was reborn, back to the moment before I was dragged to death by motorcycles in the wasteland.

In my previous life, I listened to the moral blackmail of the saintly female lead Daisy and used my abilities to desperately save a motorcycle gang surrounded by zombies.

As a result, I was severely injured from ability overexertion, and these ungrateful wolves used me as a tool to establish dominance, dragging me to death with motorcycles across the wasteland.

Before I died, Daisy was still there crying: "We tried our best, this isn't our fault."

Now that I have a second chance, she stands before me again shouting:

"Cole! What are you standing there for? Go save them! Those people are going to die! You have abilities, you must save them!"

Looking at her hypocritical saintly face, rage burned in my chest.

Why should my abilities save ungrateful wolves? Why should my life be a stepping stone for others?

The kindness of fools is worthless!

So I threw her out to feed the zombies!

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.