220 Book(s) Related to final de la novela rubi

I snapped photos of pale yellow baby clothes I’d bought at Target, posted them on Instagram captioned “Juno's wardrobe.”
Right after I put my phone away, my mother-in-law Genevieve called and berated me. She claimed I’d lost my mind after our stillbirth, insisted I wasn’t pregnant, and demanded I delete the post.
As soon as we hung up, my water broke.
Six hours later, I woke up worn out on a hospital delivery bed at Devereux Memorial Hospital. No baby cried anywhere.
My husband Elias sat beside me with bloodshot eyes. He pulled a lifelike silicone fake pregnancy belly out and set it on my lap, begging me to accept I wasn’t actually carrying a child. I screamed that I’d given birth and demanded to know where my baby Juno was.
Dr. Beckett and a team of doctors walked in, diagnosing me with pseudocyesis—phantom pregnancy. They said I’d only worn a silicone pad to fake a belly. My parents stood nearby, staring at me with shameful pity.
They forced me onto a psychiatric ambulance. I was locked in a windowless ward, drugged nonstop, tormented by the loss of my daughter, until every ounce of my will faded away...

I spent five years waiting for a wedding, only to watch his first love move in—pregnant, sleeping in our master bedroom, wearing my wedding dress.

She said the baby was his. He believed her.

She said I pushed her. He believed her.

She said I was eaten up with jealousy. He believed her.

But me? He didn't believe a single word I said.

The day I tried on my wedding gown, gunfire erupted. My fiancé shielded her and ran, never once looking back. He forgot that the woman left behind in the line of fire was the one he was supposed to marry. In that moment, my heart turned to ash.

Then came the report from his men—

"Boss, we couldn't find Miss Celeste..."

And so, this cold-blooded mafia king finally learned what it felt like to lose something.

Too bad. Some things, once lost, are gone forever.

When my roommate Sutton woke up from a wet dream, she was literally glowing. She claimed it was the most mind-blowing romantic experience of her life—the man’s silhouette, his scent, his body heat felt impossibly real.
Even crazier? When she checked her phone, there was a strange new number saved in her contacts. It belonged to the man from her dream.
While the rest of us shrieked about destiny, our moody roommate Jessamine just stared at the screen and dropped a chilling warning: "Things that come looking for you in dreams should stay buried."
We all wrote her off as a jealous freak.
That is, until I started noticing Sutton’s face growing more haggard by the day—and the fact that her "perfect boyfriend" refused to speak a single word to her.

I ranked first and snagged the most prestigious job offer in the city. Yet, not a single person congratulated me.
Because for the past twenty years, every top student who received this offer from the medical school "committed suicide" that very night.
Reporters blocked the school gates, grinning as they asked if I planned to jump off a building or swallow a bullet. My roommate grabbed my collar, screaming curses, wishing me dead.
Too bad they all completely miscalculated. I come from a filthy rich family, I’m perfectly sane, and top psychologists have signed off that I have zero suicidal tendencies. I have no reason to die.
So, I looked straight into the live cameras and declared: "If my body is found tomorrow morning, it’s not suicide. It’s murder!"
After all, for that final exam, I turned in a blank paper.

The car crash six months ago destroyed my body. I survive the agony only through the painkillers prescribed by my brother, Fletcher.
While shopping for my wedding dress, I simply swallowed a pill on schedule. My mother responded with a slap that made me spit blood. My father stormed in and kicked my ribs in without asking a single question.
I fled crying to my brother, only for him to grab me in disgust: "You are a disgrace to this family."
I called my fiancé. He rushed to the scene, took one look at the pill, and called the cops without hesitation: "The engagement is off. She makes me sick."
In just a few hours, I went from a bride-to-be to a death row inmate.
But as the gavel fell, I saw our family maid calmly swallow the exact same pill from the gallery…
I lunged at the railing, screaming at the judge. He leaned down, a chilling smile spreading across his face: "Linnea, this is all because…"

The night my sister, Quinn, got her registered nurse license was supposed to be Jude's big moment—down on one knee, proposing.
Instead, Garrett showed up. The same animal who assaulted Quinn in the redwood forest six years ago and drove our mother to her death in the ocean.
Her future mother-in-law took back the ring on the spot, and her fiancé trailed after her like a kicked puppy.
The entire town of Hawkins went from pity to disgust when they looked at us.
Seven days later, the deputy sheriff stood in my kitchen, staring at the twenty-second batch of bubbling meat sauce...

After seven sleepless nights, I started seeing the exact probability of someone killing me.
At my birthday banquet, my stepmother smiled warmly, linking her arm through mine. Hovering above her head was 70%.
I had just overheard her plotting to swallow every cent of the inheritance my father left me.
My half-brother leaned in to hand me a drink. Above his head was 55%.
He was planning to sell me to a creep willing to drop seven figures on a woman.
Terrified out of my mind, I threw myself into the arms of my fiancé, Soren.
Above his head was a reassuring 0%, pure and bright as white light.
Then, with the whole room watching, he got down on one knee and pulled out a massive emerald ring.
"Marry me, Greer."
Crying tears of relief, I said yes and offered him my trembling left hand.
But the very second the ring slipped onto my ring finger, his 0% suddenly shattered into a blood-red 100%.

Lysander’s ex-girlfriend, Evangeline, suggested a hiking trip. Out of obligation to me as his fiancée, he brought me along.
We got lost in the woods and trespassed onto the territory of his half-brother, Orion.
When Orion pointed a gun at us and forced him to choose—
In my past life, he chose me.
As a result, Evangeline was sold to a rival, Matthias, and was tortured to death. I spent the rest of my life bearing the full weight of Lysander’s hatred.
In the third year of our marriage, I lay in a hospital bed after a miscarriage. He stood coldly beside me and said, "Now you know how it feels to lose the love of your life."
Reborn into this life, as Orion’s gun points at me and Evangeline once again, I make the choice for him.
I’m leaving the chance to survive to his true love.

On my first day back in the country after studying abroad, my mother sent me to my fiancé’s company. I was to work low-profile as a secretary, just to slowly cultivate our relationship.
The moment I stepped into the office, a domineering woman started ordering me around, demanding I fetch her coffee.
I endured it.
That was until she deliberately spilled the coffee all over me. Only then did I realize that this woman—running amok in my fiancé’s company and treated like a queen by everyone—was his mistress.

On the night my grandmother died, my husband Kael came home trailing blood.
His leather motorcycle jacket was soaked dark red, yet he flashed a savage grin: "I wiped the floor with those bastards tonight!"
For three years, he had treated our home as nothing more than a pit stop between reckless street races.
I’d finally had enough. "After the funeral, we're getting a divorce."
Before the words fully left my mouth, my phone rang. It was his riding partner, Lunn, his voice choking with sobs: "Sera... Kael drove off the cliff tonight. They only recovered bloody pieces of his helmet!"
But the "dead man" was standing right in front of me...

In my past life, my husband Pietro locked me in a dark basement and tortured me to death. My only crime? I couldn't get pregnant.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the family’s arranged marriage banquet.
Pietro was an illegitimate son, desperate to secure his status through marriage. In my previous life, he chose me—the Godfather's daughter. But this time, he publicly wrapped his arm around my ambitious stepsister, Livia.
Livia had always envied my status. She craved power and desperately wanted to be the Don's wife. Seeing them together, I knew instantly: Pietro had been reborn, too.
Don Ettore laid down the law: Whoever sired a son first would inherit Castel City.
My sister thought she had just been handed a crown.
But she didn't know the truth. The barren one... was Pietro.

Thirty thousand feet in the air, inside the sealed cabin of a commercial airliner, my five-year-old daughter vanished into thin air while I took a thirty-minute nap.
I tore through the lavatories, the galleys, and every overhead bin. The only thing I found was her stuffed bunny, the one she never let out of her sight.
What was even more terrifying was the crew and the passengers. As if perfectly rehearsed, they all insisted I had boarded the plane alone. They even gaslit me in front of everyone, claiming I was mentally unstable and had hallucinated a daughter.
They took turns pushing me, trying to force me into self-doubt and submission. Not a single person offered to help me look. The entire plane was covering up a sinister crime.
If this plane was going to hide my child and protect the guilty, then I would tear this hypocritical aircraft apart with my bare hands.

That "poor pregnant woman" downstairs is currently waddling around Linden Court with her forty-week baby bump, sobbing to the neighbors. She claims the noise of me screwing men in the middle of the night is so loud it's killing her unborn baby.
In my past life, no one in this building believed me. In the end, she used a pair of rusty pruning shears to pin me, dead, to my own living room floor.
Reborn into a new life, I stare at the bulletin board where my face is crossed out with red marker, and I let out a cold laugh.
This time, I absolutely refuse to be the idiot who gets stabbed to death.

Thirty-three days in the dark. When the dungeon door finally opened, I, Cordelia, walked out with absolutely nothing.
My adopted sister, Romina, forged the evidence that locked me away. My parents bought her lies and disowned me. My husband, Silvano, sent divorce papers to my cell and immediately dumped our three-year-old son, Lior, at an orphanage, registering him as an orphan.
Then came the diagnosis: a severe blood disorder. To bring my little boy home, I had to formally adopt him, which meant I needed a million dollars to my name.
Driven into a corner, I returned to the Ferrara Manor—the place I once called home—and accepted every humiliating transaction Silvano offered, trading my dignity for the money to save my son.
I thought if I just endured it long enough, I could take my boy and leave.
But overnight, my private photos were splashed across the city.
My adoption eligibility was instantly revoked. And Lior’s life was quietly bleeding out, day by day.

I spent five years letting men degrade me at a club, all to save $300,000 for my blind brother Joren's eye surgery.
The day I finally raised the money, I excitedly told him he would be able to see again—only to discover he was never blind to begin with.
My husband’s "bankrupt" company had been thriving all along. My parents, who supposedly died in a plane crash, had been living luxuriously abroad.
My husband even took my "stillborn" daughter and gave her to my adopted sister.
My entire family conned me for five years to "teach me a lesson"—all because my adopted sister claimed I bullied her.
Now, they are forcing me to donate my liver to the woman who stole my life, threatening that I'll never see my biological daughter again if I refuse.
But what they don't know is that I have terminal liver cancer, and I only have two days left to live...

Alpha Geirolf once fought his entire Ulvarr Pack just to mate me.
But Anniken's arrival turned all his sweeping vows to ash.
He let her take over the manor, shatter my mother’s moonstone bracelet, and lock me—burning with a high fever—in the dungeon to be thrown into freezing water.
The biting cold silently stole the baby in my womb. He saw the crimson pooling on the floor, yet turned his back to comfort that woman and her fake tears.
And on the 108th time I handed him the rejection papers, he finally snapped our mate bond...

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 saved Theron’s life, and in return, he lined up his eight grandsons before me. Whoever I chose would be the next Alpha of the Frostvale Pack. My wolf instantly recognized Rhysand—my fated mate. I chose him without hesitation.
On our wedding night, the moment I touched him, he broke out in hives and gasped for air. The doctor said he was allergic to me. Overnight, I became the city's laughingstock. For three years, I walked on eggshells, terrified to even step near my own husband.
Until he was dosed with a lethal aphrodisiac. If not cured within two hours, he would die. I threw caution to the wind and climbed into his bed. Through an entire night of skin-to-skin contact, there were no hives, no suffocation. His "allergy" had miraculously vanished.
But at dawn, his ex-girlfriend Linnea walked in. Rhysand looked at me like I was garbage. "If Linnea hadn't saved me last night, I'd be dead."
Two weeks later, I found out I was pregnant. But before I could even share the news, a raging fire buried that unspoken hope—along with my unborn child—in the ashes forever.
I finally understood. He was never allergic to me.
He just never loved me.

Two years ago, my best friend Maddie knelt in front of me, crying as she borrowed $50,000.
The very next day, she vanished off the face of the earth. No explanation, no apology, not even a single text message.
I was left carrying her toxic debt. I lost my fiancé, and I lost my ability to trust anyone.
Until one late night, a call came in from an unknown number originating in an abandoned mining district in West Virginia.
On the other end of the line, Maddie said she was getting married. She had the money ready—every last cent.
The wedding venue was a ruined church deep in the mountains, abandoned for a decade. The time: Friday, midnight.

To save my mother's life and pay for her experimental cancer treatment, I had to take a night shift at an exclusive private club.
That night, Elias Sinclair had been drugged. He grabbed my wrist, his eyes wild and burning, and whispered, 'Don't go.
Two months later, a constant, sickening wave of nausea confirmed my worst fear: I was pregnant.
The Sinclair family didn’t waste any time. Within days, a contract was shoved in my face. The house and millions of dollars would be mine, but the child would belong to them. The price? I could never see my baby again.
I signed the paper, took the money, and fled the country, thinking our paths would never cross again.
Five years later, I returned to Koren City, wanting nothing more than to quietly care for my ailing mother.
But the one man I swore to avoid blocked my path, smelling of whiskey and dark intent.
"Are you avoiding me, June?"

My world fell apart the day I got scratched by my best friend Coralie’s cat, and she handed me that "miracle" ointment.
Rosalind, the mentor I had respected for years, suddenly turned on me, cutting all ties in a fit of rage that landed her in the hospital.
My mother, Adrienne, transformed overnight, screaming abuse and kicking me out of her house.
And Dorian, my fiancé, publicly humiliated me at our engagement party, viciously calling off the wedding.
Driven to despair, I wandered into the street and was nearly killed by a car. In the shocking clarity of that near-death moment, I finally realized the twisted truth behind everyone’s sudden, violent disgust for me...

When he found out I’d injured my leg and couldn't scrub in to deliver the billionaire's baby tomorrow, my boyfriend’s first reaction wasn't concern. He gritted his teeth and snapped, "Hannah, you did this on purpose, didn't you? Why today of all days? Are you really throwing away your entire career just to spite me?!"
I didn't argue. I just stared at the medical chart labeled Eleanor Whitlock, my fingers trembling.
In my past life, I took this assignment. I was drugged and locked in a supply closet. A few hours later, the mother and baby were dead—and the security footage showed a nurse with my face poisoning them. I died in a damp prison cell, branded a murderer.
Reborn into this life, I just wanted to escape this fatal trap.
But somehow, the security cameras had once again captured "me" walking into that delivery room.

On the day I gave birth to my daughter, Iris, my husband Hollis pushed open the hospital room door, dragging a four-year-old boy by the arm. Eyes red and welling with tears, he said, "Look who I brought home."
My mother-in-law wept tears of joy. My son, Felix—who supposedly died in the winery fire five months ago—had returned "from the dead."
The whole room was crying over this miracle, but my blood ran cold: since the second he walked through that door, Hollis hadn't spared a single glance at our newborn daughter.
I secretly collected a DNA sample from the boy and sent it for expedited testing. The results confirmed it: this wasn't my son at all. He was Hollis’s illegitimate child with another woman.
That same night, I pulled up the nursery's hidden camera footage and watched with my own eyes as this man injected poison into Iris’s breast milk. Soon after, he brazenly moved his mistress—my personal assistant—into my home.
A towering wave of hatred consumed me. I swore I would make them pay in blood...

On the day I died, Roland was rolling in the sheets with his adopted sister, Lavinia.
When the hospital called with my death notice, he scoffed. It was just drawing some blood, how could anyone die from that? He was certain I was just throwing a tantrum again, desperate for his attention.
The day he received my ashes, he personally smashed the wooden urn to the ground. His expensive leather shoes ground my ashes into the floor over and over as he coldly announced he was going to marry Lavinia and throw a grand wedding—the exact wedding I had begged for when I was alive but never got.
It wasn't until the day before their wedding that his assistant, Desmond, rushed in, trembling.
"Sir, it's bad... We pulled the security footage from the hospital, and... the madam's autopsy report."

Ten years ago, on the day my family was destroyed, Ezra Ashford promised to marry me.
Ten years passed. He refused to honor that promise, and he refused to mark me. The feral instincts in my blood were growing wilder by the day, pushing me to the brink of madness—yet he turned around, announced his engagement to Ophelia, the beloved daughter of the Silvermane Pack, and casually sold me off to Rhysand, a scarred, half-burned monster who cleaned corpses for a living.
On his wedding night, Ezra actually abandoned Ophelia, kicking down my door in his tailored tuxedo.
Only to freeze in his tracks.
I sat naked on the edge of the bed. Rhysand, the supposedly lowly corpse cleaner, had me wrapped in his arms. The bite mark on the back of my neck was still bleeding.

I am the Seer of the wolf pack, the Alpha’s wife, yet I have never truly known love.

My parents called me a bastard; my sister stole everything from me, even my husband’s heart.

Now, she blinds herself and frames me, forcing me to give up my own eyes.

No one knows that when a Seer loses her sight, she dies.

I thought that making the ultimate sacrifice would finally earn me a shred of affection. But even as I lay dying on the operating table, they gathered around my sister, laughing.

Only when the truth came out did they realize—I was their real daughter, and my sister was the one who schemed to take everything from me.

But by then, it was far too late.

Married for five years, my husband, Reid, constantly played the poverty card. He’d blame crashing company revenues, claiming we couldn't even afford to upgrade to a house with a small yard. His favorite excuse was that we had to subsidize his chronically ill, adopted sister, Vivienne.
Yet, he frequently went out late at night, his phone practically glued to his hand. I suspected he was having an affair, but I couldn't find a single shred of evidence.
So, for our fifth anniversary, I gifted him a custom leather belt with a micro-GPS tracker hidden inside.
At 2:00 AM, the tracker pinned him at a private suburban farm—while he claimed to be pulling an all-nighter at the office.
Furious, I drove out to the middle of nowhere, my head full of scenarios where I’d catch him in bed with another woman. But when I arrived, the entire farm was locked down by the police.
A grim-faced detective stopped me and asked coldly, "Ma'am, are you the family of the deceased?"

On our sixth wedding anniversary, my husband Jonathan brought his dead ex-girlfriend's sister into our home — despite my objections.

"Beatrice, are you even human? You can't even show compassion to a dying woman! How could someone so cold-hearted be a role model for Oliver!"

My son — the boy I'd raised for six years — swung his little fists at me and screamed: "Beatrice! If you don't let Isadora stay, I'll never speak to you again!"

That was the moment my heart turned to stone.

I signed the divorce papers and walked straight back into the courtroom — clawing my way back to the top.

Then they discovered her lies. Every. Single. One.

Jonathan fell to his knees before me, eyes red and brimming with tears: "Beatrice, do six years of marriage mean nothing to you anymore?"

My son clung to my legs, sobbing: "Mommy! Mommy, don't go! I know I was wrong! Mommy—"

I looked down at them. I felt nothing.

"Now take your mistress and your son — and get out of my life."

I turned and walked away without looking back.

I'm an international flight purser. Every time I returned from a trip, I would find a woman’s item in my apartment that didn't belong to me.
The first time, it was a diamond earring on the bathroom counter. Gabriel said his mother left it behind when she visited. The second time, it was a pair of lace panties stuffed between the sofa cushions. He claimed his cousin's girlfriend left them when they crashed at our place, and his cousin even offered to buy us a brand-new sofa to apologize.
Time and time again, there was a flawless excuse for every single item.
Until the seventeenth time, when I deliberately hid one of my own lace bras under the sofa...

I’ve had a lot of things stolen from me by my stepsister, Paloma Thorne.
My father, my boyfriend, my baby, my thesis, my future...
When I was twenty-two, I walked into the university lab and caught Paloma and my boyfriend, Milo, tangled naked together. I miscarried on the spot. Later, as I lay in the hospital bed, Paloma used a secretly recorded sex tape of Milo and me as blackmail, sealing off my last possible way out. I didn't scream or cry. I just signed the papers, grabbed my suitcase, and left.
In Calder City, I met the mafia don, Darius Harlow. He was calm, dominant, and gave me a sense of security so overwhelming it was almost suffocating. So, I married him.
It wasn't until four years later, when I returned to Ellsworth for Paloma's wedding, that the illusion shattered.
The night before the wedding, standing outside a closed door, I heard her voice.
"Darius, I was the one who let go seven years ago. Let me make it up to you tonight. Please?"
The next second, I heard my husband's heavy breathing.
Only then did I realize that for the past four years, I was nothing but Paloma's stand-in.

During our first month at university, my half-vampire boyfriend, Darien, claimed he couldn't adapt to the human campus. The bright lights gave him vertigo, the sensory overload wrecked him, and even a drop of a classmate's blood pushed him to the brink of losing control.
For him, I promised to drop my elite program so we could transfer to a dreary, isolated northern town together. To keep him stable, I—a pureblood vampire—slashed my own wrists to feed him.
Thursday night, standing outside the gym locker room, I heard him tell his teammate: "It's all an act. She's like a leech I can't peel off, and I’m sick of it. I tricked her into moving north so Cassira can study here in peace."
Everything he did was just to disgust me out of his life, all for another girl.
I stood there for a long time, then turned and walked away.
On my transfer application, I crossed out checking the northern town and changed my destination to London.

Lily De Silva had been married to the devilishly handsome CEO of Bradford Enterprises for four years, but their marriage came to an abrupt end when he asked for a divorce due to her inability to bear him another son. Reluctantly, she let him go.

Meanwhile, Grey rekindled his romance with his first love, Natalia, a stunning Italian model, and got her pregnant.

Months later, after their legal divorce, Lily discovered she was pregnant. Grey came crashing back into her life, wanting to win her back. However, Lily, now an heiress, refused to take him back.

Will the enigmatic CEO win her love again, or will hate prevail in the end?

Betrayed by her husband on her own wedding night, Elena's heart is filled with a thirst for revenge. Morgan humiliated her by abandoning her to run off with Marissa, his true lover.

Consumed by resentment, Elena decides to give him a taste of his own medicine. She takes refuge in a nightclub, throwing herself into debauchery and alcohol until she completely loses consciousness.

"WHAT!?" Elena feels her heart stop when she wakes up in a luxurious hotel room. Beside her, an impossibly attractive man sleeps soundly. Panicking, she hastily fixes her clothes and flees the place.

However, escaping the man with whom she spent a night of passion won't be so easy. Elijah, the mysterious stranger, begins to pursue her relentlessly and obsessively, determined to make her his.

Elena feels cornered when he makes an absurd demand: she must take responsibility for having 'stolen his virginity'.

Crazy?

Absolutely!

Three years later, Morgan reappears in her life, demanding that Elena return to his side. Without thinking much, Elena tries to end her relationship with Elijah to close that chapter.

But Elijah has no intention of letting her go. For him, Elena belongs to him; only he can be her lover and her future husband! Elena still has no idea who Elijah really is... nor the power hidden behind his possessive gaze.

There can never be more embarrassing than finding a naked guy in the middle of nowhere, but he is asking for help, and Sybil doesn’t have the heart to leave him alone. And so, she takes him home. Ace proves himself to be a decent guy. But what can be worse than two strangers with no memories falling in love and then later finding out the sad truth their memories hide?
Little do they know… the worst is yet to come.
Are they ready for it?
Will their love story lead to a happy ending, or will they choose vengeance instead of love?

"The Blaze clan has 9 sons and you must stay away from them before you lose your sanity."
Thiago Blaze is much older than I am and carries scars on his hardened soul. I don't know if I can keep being his personal maid without being killed or falling for him. Things get even more complicated when the Blazer Father tries to marry me to take my father's research. But what looks like any billionaire family is actually a dangerous game. And the Blaze's wants the company, the city, my body — everything.

I was a sacrifice.

He was my executioner.

Leora was never meant to live. She just survive beneath the shadows of death, a survival confined between a shady past an ambiguous future. However, her life take a turn for the worse when she is accused of attacking the Alpha's mate.

Abused and humiliated, Leora ends up banished from the pack that hosted her all her life to meet her fate, which turns out to be not only her worst fear, the past she has been running from, but the monster who claims her as his mate.

Can she outlive the fear and find love within the dead heart of a monster? Can she continue to live next to death? And can she restore the happiness that was stolen from her? Or will she be the sacrifice she was always destined to be?

Some love stories begin with fate. Others begin with a lie.

Taine was trained to manipulate, deceive, and follow orders without question. When the Dead Tears Alliance assigns him a simple mission—make an awkward girl named Jane fall in love with him—he never expects to become trapped by his own game. As secrets unravel and betrayal shatters their relationship, Taine discovers that the organization he serves is responsible for far more than he ever imagined, including the deaths of the people he loves most.

Years later, Jane is still haunted by the loss of her family and the boy who broke her heart. Then she meets Sebastian, a mysterious young man who knows things he shouldn't and seems determined to protect her from dangers she doesn't understand. Drawn into a world of telepathy, alien civilizations, and impossible choices, Jane finds herself torn between her first love and a man willing to cross galaxies for her.

But Jane's story is only the beginning.

As fate weaves together the lives of friends, soulmates, angels, aliens, and the Grim Reaper himself, another young woman named Rocksyn discovers she possesses an ancient power capable of changing the balance between life and death. From the shadows of Limbo to distant planets and parallel universes, love will be tested, destinies will be rewritten, and old evils will rise once more.

Bound by fate and separated by worlds, four extraordinary love stories collide in an unforgettable saga of romance, sacrifice, friendship, and the power of choosing your own destiny.

Perfect for readers who love soulmates, love triangles, paranormal romance, found family, aliens, magical powers, and epic adventures that span worlds and lifetimes.

My mother once told me that someday I would find the one person I was destined to spend forever with.
I found him and he rejected me because he thought I was too weak.

Forced to leave the only home I knew, I did so with my head hung low. As it turned out, the Moon Goddess had other plans for me in the form of three mates. I had to fight for what I wanted and show everyone that despite being an Omega, I was stronger than they thought.

But I wasn't sure if I would make it. I just knew that I had to fight, for myself, and for others they considered to be weak.

*** Age gap, slow burn, shifter reverse harem novel with mature content ***

"We’re sending you away for a while. "Devon said.

Pain shot through me. They didn’t want me here anymore.

Was this his way of saying that he didn’t want the baby? Was he too scared to say it to my face?

I tensed when David stepped up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

“We don’t want to, but we have no other choice right now,” David said softly.

“I can stay with you,” I whispered, but he was already shaking his head.

“You’re pregnant Val. Someone could slip something into your food or drinks and we wouldn’t be aware of it. You should be as far away from here while we sort this out.”

“So you’re sending me away to go live with some strangers? What makes them trustworthy? Who—”


I’m a human born in a Lycan world.

My mother died during birth, and my father soon after in battle. The only other family I had was my aunt who had no choice but to take me in. In this world of Lycan, I am not welcome. My aunt tried to throw away the burden, me. Finally she found a pack that would take me in.

A pack ruled by two Alphas—the biggest pack known to Lycans. I expected them will reject me too, but things took an unexpected turn. Turned out they wanted me as their mate. But will I be able to handle two Alphas?

PLEASE NOTE: Seperate books from the series are available on the author page. :)

My name is Yamila and I am a plastic artist.
The truth is that I have not had much luck in love and here I am telling you a little about my story. I am from Turkey, in the part of Izmir, and I am 39 years old and have 2 cats, Lola and Martin.
I have to admit that I have not had an orgasm like my best friend tells me.
Francisco knew how to fuck but I knew that he was not a person to fall in love just to have a moment of pleasure.

Khan knew how to make me scream and bring me to pleasure.
His cock was very big and I really liked giving him oral sex and with him I had my first time of anal sex, which I really liked and I bought several sex toys that we enjoyed.
His kisses made me feel so hot, I never thought I would meet a man like him.
I didn't understand how the size of his cock was so big.
just thinking about it makes me wet.


I liked being in charge and I started moaning more and more as he fingered me with one hand and pinched my nipples with the other.
I had seen this position in the Kamasutra book. I think it's called “the hot seat.” I kept putting his penis in and I felt it deep inside, I started moving faster and I climaxed and so did Khan.
Finally, we screamed together with pleasure. He started kissing my entire back and what I liked was that he let me be myself, he didn't want to change me and neither did I want him to.
Afterwards, Khan grabbed the soap and started lathering my entire body and massaging me.


A submissive man is everything a dominant woman needs to be able to fulfill her fantasies and desires. Yamila needs to satisfy her dominant needs and she won't stop until she gets it.
And how interesting and exciting will it be between them?

Elizabeth Stone had loved one man, Crimson Phoenix. But after six blissful years together, he shattered her heart and walked out of her life. Nothing could have prepared her for what came next: within months, he was engaged to her best friend, the beautiful and successful actress Celestine Ford, who was pregnant with his child. Now, four years later, Elizabeth thought she had escaped the scandal that had made her the most hated woman in Flintstone City. However, she is back as the heiress to a vast chain of resorts and hotels. Her life is thrown into chaos once again when her ex returns, begging for her forgiveness and a second chance. But can she truly forgive the man who was the reason she lost her baby?

Revenge is what he thrives on. It’s the only thing that’s kept him going all these years.

Luca or Lucas as we know him has been told lie after lie about our family.

That evil witch made him believe that my mother was the cause for all the suffering.

Revenge is bitter sweet, they say. But lines got blurred when things took an unexpected turn. I’m not sure whether it was for the good or the bad.

Will we be able to forget everything he has done to us, to our family? Or will it be too much to accept him as our mate?

CONTENT WARNING
THIS BOOK CONTAINS DARK—AND SOMETIMES VIOLENT--EVENTS THAT MAY BE TRIGGERS FOR SOME READERS.

Ma’Heron Denar, the Gamma of the Silvercrest Pack, was the first among the top brass to find his mate although it was in the least ideal situation. However, since all is fair in love and war, they are now together with no regrets… Until their past came back to haunt his beautiful wife, Alexia. A father’s mistake, an old ally now an enemy due to greed and lust, along with a resurgent battle will now jeopardize their love, their lives and their pack. Can Ma’Heron manage to win his wars - both with himself and his long-lost archenemy - for the sake of the pack’s peace, his true love and the hope of having his mate by his side once again?

Kael Graham is a cold, unfeeling man driven by a relentless quest for revenge. He is determined to destroy Rachel Mitchell's life and will do anything to achieve his goal. To do so, Kael lures Rachel into a dangerous trap, but, ironically, it is Rachel's sister Sarah who suffers the consequences. Now, who will emerge victorious in this game of revenge and pleasure?

Nivea Del Castano, a girl who often goes against her father's wishes. With her courage, she can always prove that her own choices are not wrong. Honesty is absolute for her, she doesn't care if she has to hurt anyone's feelings with her honesty. Until one day she found out that she was the reincarnated form of a girl who lived hundreds of years ago. Nivea could not escape, because running wherever her destiny would remain the same. Does Nivea still want to run? When her heart is set on Matias Vander Lawrence who makes her life more colorful.

"I'm sorry, Ava, but you can no longer be my mate because you are not up to my level. You are now just a mere human," Caleb said, which made Ava extremely angry.

"After all the sacrifices I have made? My brother gave his life for you! I became a mere human because of you! It's the sacrifice I made! I had to lose my hybrid powers in order to break your curse, and after all that, you reject me?" Ava said, tears streaming down her face.

"Well, that's how you see it!" Alpha Caleb responded before walking away.

If you were in Ava's shoes, what would you do? Not sure? Let's dive in and see what Ava did!

"Family is the most important thing, Eron."
I'm sick of hearing that phrase every day without qualm.
They seek to include me in the standard picture where the only thing that matters is the happiness of others; the happiness of those around you. It is typical to think that you should care about those who, according to the rules of modern society, love you the most. But does owning the same blood connection make the affective connection between people? I want to know if I am the only one who is wrong.
I don't feel that warmth in my chest that I'm supposed to feel.
Do you have something you want to do?
I look at the crumpled papers balled up in the corner of the room, next to my piano. I bite down hard on my lower lip, not caring about the fact that it's parched from the summer and might crack.
Is it really there?
I won't lie; I miss it. The reason my piano is taking dust twenty-four hours a day since one hundred and eighty-two sunsets ago is ever present in my soul. That memory clings to my memory with no intention of letting go and setting it free. The only thing that persists is this emptiness that causes my discomfort.

Dasy is a shooting Star who decides to reincarnate in earth, so She can find the love of her life, Patrick, who is also a shooting star and have been in love with Dasy since eternity. They both will fin each other the true love they have been dreaming among their reincarnations. But there is a little secret between them, everytime Patrick touch Dasy they shine and everything shakes as a strong equark around them. They must to keep their secret on safe, that they actually are shooting stars living as humans being otherwise they could finish being apart forever, because their love is too strong but as deep as dangerous.