805 Book(s) Related to how many detective novels did christie write

Ryan loves me deeply—at least that's what everyone says. Seven years together, we look like the perfect couple to outsiders. But only I know he's betrayed me three times.

The first time was three years ago. His brother died saving him, leaving behind his widow Sophia—Ryan's unforgettable first love. He married her behind my back. When I found out, I completely fell apart. I have dignity. I refuse to be the other woman. I wanted to leave, but he begged on his knees. "This is just to take care of my sister-in-law. Once I find the truth about my brother's death, I'll divorce her. Then we can get married."

I believed him. I forgot that a man never lets go of a lost love he's gotten back.

The second time was at last year's company anniversary. In front of everyone, he introduced Sophia as his wife. I watched them on stage, a knife through my heart. That night he explained, "It's just for show. Once everything's over, we can be together."

I believed him again.

The third time was two weeks ago. Surveillance footage showed Ryan with Sophia entering a hotel room. I rushed to confront him, but heard her voice outside his office. "Ryan, I'm pregnant. It's your baby."

Through the crack in the door, I see him hesitate. In that instant I understand.

He's going to keep her.

He spots me and rushes out in a panic. "It was an accident! Let me explain! After she has the baby, I'll give her money and make her leave. She won't be in our lives anymore!"

In that moment, I finally wake up. There will be no future for us.

I was taking six-year-old Arabella to fit her dress for the theater's grand opening.
As we crossed the intersection, a truck suddenly lost control and T-boned our car.
When I opened my eyes again, an agonizing pain ripped through me. I opened my mouth to call out Everett's name, only to hear his hushed voice seeping through the crack in the door—
"Staging an unavoidable accident was the only way to use the emergency room as a cover for the drug trial."
"Now that Ophelia's treatment is a success, there's naturally no need for that little bastard to live."
My Arabella. She was secretly wheeled into the operating room by him, used as a human guinea pig for his mistress Delilah's daughter, who had bone cancer. Her sweet, bell-like vocal cords were cruelly carved out and transplanted into another child's throat.
In that defining moment, I realized he had never loved my daughter.
But what he didn't know—the child he just murdered with his own hands was his one and only flesh and blood.

Three years of marriage. Three pregnancies.

Every time I confirmed I was pregnant, my sister-in-law Ophelia would walk into the chapel behind the manor.

Then my in-laws would drag me to the hospital and force me to abort the healthy baby.

The night after my third miscarriage, I dragged my weakened body to follow her into the chapel.

The moment I pushed open that door, my blood ran cold.

In that instant, I finally understood why my three children had to die.

That scumbag who turned into a jerk as soon as he had some money had been sneaking around with my stepsister behind my back. On our wedding night, no less, he was still carrying on with her! To make matters worse, my shameless stepsister drugged me, causing me to lose my long-preserved virginity to some stranger, and I even ended up pregnant with his child! And now, that traitorous bastard wants to divorce me so he can be with my despicable stepsister! Over my dead body!
Four years later, I returned to the country with triplets born abroad, armed with unparalleled medical skills and a burning desire for revenge against those who betrayed me. My ex-husband, that scumbag, begging for a second chance? Get lost!
But what’s the deal with this billionaire I accidentally saved? Not only does he look just like my kids, but he’s also shamelessly insisting on being their father!
The billionaire: "They are my children. Who else do you want them to call dad?"

After three years of secret marriage with a famous playboy F1 racer, Aria finally got pregnant. But she discovered that Liam was staying with his ex, who is also pregnant…
She was heartbroken, and left the city to raise the baby on her own.
6 years later, while back in town, Aria ran into Liam as her new boss.
Him: "I bought a mansion for our child. Stay."😳
Her: "Sorry, he has no father. "😒

Jenna, an exemplary daughter, lives alone with her father who raised her with a lot of love, discipline and responsibility. Mark Black, a very upright man who was widowed very young, but did not make another commitment to his daughter, to live happily. But life is like that, both contacted a blind date company, where they did not speak, wore masks that did not let recognize anything of each other's identity, without knowing it, they do something that would cause pain, regret, tears. Even so, there is an unrevealed truth that in the end will cause their lives to change in their totality.

What will that revelation be? What truth will that be? Find out when you read this controversial novel.

Where they discover that sex takes place with who can be something for you, but neither knows anything about the other, since everything is done in silence and with masks, but there are also sayings such as.

"NOTHING IS WHAT IT SEEMS".

Love will overcome very hard obstacles and its protagonists must have strength to cross them, because sometimes friendship and fidelity is something temporary, sometimes who you should take care of is the person you appreciate the most, not always friends are what they seem and say they love you.

Because sometimes friendship is camouflaged in your worst enemy.

"Be my submissive Andrea and I will pay off your debts"
She was about to be dragged away by a ruthless mafia gang—sold into a life of submission to repay a debt she never owed. Then he stepped in.
One week to pay off the debt of her dead father or become a s*x slave for a powerful mafia gang?
Andrea, a struggling college dropout, never imagined her late father had signed her off as collateral to the mafia. Desperate, she turned to her billionaire boyfriend for help—only to be coldly dumped. Heartbroken and hopeless, one reckless night at a club led to a fiery one-night stand with a masked, older stranger who stirred something in her she couldn't forget.
Days later, the mafia came to collect. And just as she thought it was over, the masked man reappeared.
His offer? Submit to him for one year. No face. No names. No strings attached.
She agreed.
What she didn't know? He was her ex-boyfriend's father. And he had been obsessed with her from the moment he first saw her.
Now trapped in a world of secrets, control, and forbidden desire, Andrea must decide: will she fight for her freedom, or surrender to the man who owns her body—and just might steal her heart?

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

I was dragged to the stand of the MRI Memory Court by my own flesh and blood.

Their demand? To forcibly extract my kidney to keep their uremic adopted daughter alive.

A guilty verdict meant losing not just my bodily autonomy, but my freedom for the rest of my life.

Bathed in the global spotlight, my parents performed as tragic heroes, while their adopted saint cried a river of deceit.

They thought they had cornered the perfect victim, waiting for the world to send me to the slaughter.

But the moment the memory holograms ignited and reality bled through, the hunters instantly became the hunted.

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

One was an immensely powerful pureblood aristocrat.

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

In my past life, I chose Cassian.

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

But he never seemed to get better.

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

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

Cassian shoved me precisely into the path of their claws.

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

Silver claws completely shredded my throat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dad… please… help me…” I pleaded, my shattered ribs piercing my lungs, blood soaking the stretcher.
But Richard, the hospital's top surgeon and my biological father, didn't even glance at me. Instead, he rushed to the next bed.
“Don't be afraid, Chloe. I'm here,” he cooed to his stepdaughter, who merely had a tiny scratch on her arm. “Get the best equipment over here now!” he roared.
As the heart monitor flatlined and my soul left my broken body, I realized the chilling truth: in the choice between life and death, my father gladly let me die.

My uncle and aunt told me that I couldn't become a wizard.

When others had received their admission letters to the Academy of Magic, I still had nothing. I was destined to become a mortal. But at this moment, an old wizard appeared in the relics left by my parents.

He was the most evil dark wizard two hundred years ago.

He was defeated in the Second Wizarding World War.

However, now his soul has been fragmented into countless pieces. If I help him resurrect, he guarantees that after he regains control of the wizard world, he will make me the president of the Magic Association and also let me become the president of the United States.

-- All of the above are false.

Actually, I'm just a pitiful person who had my magic sucked dry by an evil dark wizard. I have to bring the dark wizard along to study at the Academy of Magic, and I can't let anyone find out.

"You think I would choose you over them Jesse?"

"I can never do that, you are a Beast so you deserve to live with beats like you not me"

Sylvie muttered in pain.

"And you think there is anything you can do about that?"

"You can run for now but I will find you"

Alpha Jesse said.

Meet Jesse who spent his life time looking for his runaway mate who ran away with his child

Sadly he need to pass through many tougher opponents to get her when he finally found her.

His determined enough not to let her go again. So he take all his courage to say these words to her.

"Why can't it be? Why can't it be the two of us? Why can't we be lovers? Only friends?

Her psychological condition is the main reason.

Her emotion is always splitting.

The young man belongs to a wealthy clan, he is a billionaire who had a dark past unknown to the society where he belongs at present. Only the lady knew his deepest secret, his past. She played the big role in his life long time ago…

When they meet again, the memories of his past comes back to him. Then the billionaire hope that maybe at present time they can be more than just friend but then again the lady wants to say goodbye to him.

Would she stay? Or would she say goodbye?

Will can they be lovers? Or will can't be?

"Si... Sienna, you're drunk..." he rasps.
"Nope." I smile. "I know exactly what I'm doing. And... I've always wanted this."
"I've had a crush on you since forever... so I can never be wrong."
I never expected that crashing at my best friend's family lake house while her parents were away would lead to something forbidden. Her father—the man I'd known all my life—became the center of a night I couldn't resist. The attraction between us ignited into a dangerous, consuming connection that left me trembling until dawn. I slipped away quietly in the morning, hoping to forget and avoid him entirely.
But fate had other plans. Soon, I found him sitting across from me as my new boss. Every glance, every word carried an unspoken tension, a power struggle I couldn't escape. I tried to resist, but the pull between us was irresistible. In the privacy of my office, I indulged in the memory of that night, testing boundaries, surrendering to desire while he watched and controlled, reminding me who held the power.
Eventually, the line between defiance and submission, punishment and reward, blurred. And just when I thought our secret was safe... his daughter walked in, shattering everything.

When I was nine months pregnant, my husband, Torin, forced doctors to extract my baby's cord blood to save his ex-wife's son. My baby died of suffocation ten minutes after birth, right before my eyes.
Instigated by his biological mother, my stepson sneaked into my room late at night and poured silver powder all over me. My skin rotted; the scars would last forever.
Later, the hospital ward caught fire, cutting off my escape. On the brink of life and death, Torin glanced back at me, scooped up his ex-wife, and walked into the safe zone without looking back.
Even later, he knelt in the ruins, hands dripping with blood, digging through the rubble brick by brick.
Until his subordinate stepped up behind him and choked out, "Alpha... we found the Luna's body."

I died on the second Sunday of May.
Mother’s Day.
My biological mother, the top neurologist in the United States, was standing in front of my corpse.
She looked at the bedsores all over my body, at the ribs that had been stomped broken, and explained coldly to hundreds of cameras:
“Trash from the bottom of society, covered in needle marks like this, doesn’t deserve to dirty my dissection table.”
She didn’t know that the “social garbage” she called a pill-seeking self-harmer was the son she had abandoned ten years ago.
When the cold scalpel cut open my chest, an old photograph stained with black blood slipped out.
The moment she saw it, the woman who had stood above everyone else—
went completely insane…

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.

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...

For six years, I wore Pack silver. I sold my blood. I scrubbed silver out of Pack den floors. I slept on a basement floor — all to pay off my mate's Pack debt and buy my brother's wolfsbane antidote.
Today, with the receipt finally signed, my brother looked at me and said:
"Seren, I was never poisoned. Our parents aren't dead either. The Rogue raid six years ago — I arranged it. The only wolf hurt that night was you."
My mate stepped up behind him: "I never lost my Pack rank either. I've been at the estate the whole time."
Then my parents — the ones I'd buried seven years ago — walked through the door.
The Pack physician had given me forty-eight hours left to live.
They were going to remember every single one.

My husband often made me suffer for the sake of my younger sister, even divorcing me because of her.
My parents gave all their love to my sister and neglected me.
My husband and parents even had my sister perform surgery on me.
But they didn't know that my sister had no idea how to perform surgery.
It didn't matter though, because I no longer cared.
On Christmas Day, when they were celebrating, they finally remembered me.
But I was already dead.

My daughter was murdered on her eleventh birthday during a brutal snuff livestream on the dark web.

The chat was flooded with the sick revelry and obscene tips of twisted buyers.

"Break her legs a little more."
"I want to hear her cry out."

Lying in a pool of blood, my daughter cried out in sheer despair: "Mom... save me... it hurts so much..."

Watching my daughter take her last breath amid violent convulsions, I clawed at my own fingers until they were torn and bloody.

The police told me it was her elegant ballet instructor, Serena, who had sent her to hell. And the one who helped Serena cover her tracks was my husband, David.

In my utter despair, I swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills.

When I opened my eyes again, I had been thrown back to the very day I was supposed to take my daughter to her ballet class.

Sitting in the passenger seat, dressed in her ballet tutu, my daughter looked at me with eyes full of anticipation.

"Hurry up, Mom. Ms. Serena said we're rehearsing the solo for Swan Lake today."

The blood in my veins instantly ran cold.

My parents raised me for twenty-four years. Then they found out I wasn't their biological daughter.

Their real daughter came home. She'd only been back two years. That's all it took to erase twenty-four.

When kidnappers grabbed us, I used my body as a shield. They beat me until something inside me ruptured. I was dying from internal bleeding, but no one could tell.

My parents wouldn't even look at me. "This is your fault! None of this would've happened if it weren't for you!"

"Get downstairs and apologize to your sister. If you can't, pack your things and get out."

They threw her a party at a downtown hotel while I died alone in my room.

I thought they'd be relieved. Maybe even glad. I thought they'd just move on like I never existed.

But when they finally learned the truth, they fell apart.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At four, they shattered both my legs. At six, they ruptured my left eardrum. At seven, they took my right eye—said I'd earn more sympathy begging blind.
After twelve years in hell, my billionaire parents finally found me.
The girl who stole my life grabbed my wrist, nails digging into my skin. "Dare take what's mine, and I'll break whatever's left of your legs."
I smiled, unclipping both prosthetics to show empty pant legs. "I don't have legs left."
She was terrified.

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

All she yearns for was her father's dick buried deep inside her wet vagina, she would always get mad each time she caught a glimpse of any lady chatting with her dad. This feeling had to stop; she was lusting after her dad. There are many guys out there, trying their logical best to seize her attention for she was a beauty to behold, but all she wanted was her dad, her dad only. She always wished for her mom to always be on business trips, so she would have all the time with her hottie Dad.

It started as a mere attraction, a mere attraction from a daughter to her dad, but what started as a mere attraction became lust, pure lust.

Daniella is the only child of her parents, her mom was always on business trips, so she hardly took care of her only child. This made her grow fond of her young and super hot Dad. While growing up, both father and daughter fell in love with each other, but each of them tried to conceal their feelings for one another.

But such feelings of lust couldn't be hidden for long, such feelings of cravings couldn't be held back.

Would Daniella and her dad get to stop the taboo they were about to engage in?

Would the lust between them turn to love?

Read! To get all the answers.

Xie Yijin hated me more than anyone in this world.

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

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

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

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

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

But now…
he only wanted me dead.

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

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

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

"I am Cecilia."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I said, "Fine."

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

In my last life, my brother broke my legs and my adopted sister pushed me into the ocean. My father just stood there watching, mad about the blood on his shoes.
They gave her everything that was mine. My territory, my mother's necklace, even my bedroom. I was the real daughter, the real bloodline, and I still wasn't worth half of the stray my father dragged home.
I took it all. Every insult, every slap, every scrap of love that went to her instead of me. Because I thought maybe one day they'd see me.
They never did. They killed me instead.
Now I'm back. Same night, same banquet, same girl sitting across from me with fake tears, begging for my port.
This time I didn't hand it over. I smashed a wine bottle, slapped her face open, and told my father we're done.
He called his guards. My brother pulled a gun.
What they forgot is that my grandfather is the real power in this family. And I already sent him a message.

Important Notice: This book isn't incest, the synopsis below is just a plot twist.

Being in bed with her father was all she yearned for. She would always get mad each time she caught a glimpse of any lady chatting with her dad. This feeling had to stop, she was lusting after her dad. There are many guys out there, trying their logical best to seize her attention for she was a beauty to behold, but all she wanted was her dad, her dad alone. She always wished for her mom to always be on business trips, so she would have all the time with her hottie dad. It started as a mere attraction, a mere attraction from a daughter to her dad, but what started as a mere attraction became lust, pure lust. Daniella is the only child of her parents, her mom was always on business trips so she hardly took care of her only child. This made her grow fond of her young and super hot dad while growing up. Both father and daughter fell in love with each other, but each of them tried to conceal their feelings for one another. However, such feelings of lust couldn't be hidden for long, such feelings of cravings couldn't be held back.


Would Daniella and her dad get to stop the taboo they were about to engage in? Would the lust between them turn to love?

What would happen when Daniella found out that the man she’d always believed was her father was not her real father?

In fact, he's nowhere close to being her father.

Would she continue loving this man or their love become devastated and Liam wouldn't be able to fight for his love? Read to get all the answers!

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

I think I'm dead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I thought Mom came to save me.

Until I saw the text message she sent...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My dad made me a smoothie every morning for six months. I thought it was love.
It was a muscle relaxant.
He'd been slipping just enough into my drink to make my fingers tremble at full draw — just enough to cost me first place at every major competition. Not enough to kill me. Just enough to let Laurel beat me.
Laurel. His mistress's daughter. The girl he bought custom diamond jewelry while giving me clearance-rack gear for my birthday. The girl he wanted to drop into my family, my home, and my spot on the podium.
I found the proof. Stopped drinking his smoothies. Clawed my way back to number one.
Then, two days before the National Youth Archery Trials — the one competition that decides everything — he picked up a steel rod and swung it at my right arm.
My drawing arm.
The bone cracked. Doctors said three months minimum. My coach couldn't look me in the eye. Every scout, every scholarship, every dream I'd bled for over three years — gone in one swing from the man who was supposed to protect me.
Trials start tomorrow morning. And I can't hold a bow.

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

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

They called me the kingdom’s light.

They worshipped me… until they decided I was a threat.

On the night I was meant to become queen, my sister smiled as she betrayed me.

My fiancé watched as I was condemned.

And then he threw me into the abyss. They thought I died.

But something down there was waiting for me. Now I’m back. Not as a princess.

Not as a saint. But as something far worse. I wear a servant’s face. I bow my head.

I play their game. And the man who killed me? He can’t stop watching me.

Touching me. Wanting me. If he discovers who I am, he’ll destroy me again.
But this time… I’ll destroy him first.

Vanessa, an omega in the Blood Moon Pack, suffered a devastating blow when the Alpha's son spurned her in favor of another. Seeking solace elsewhere, she eventually returns to her pack, only to be greeted by tragedy: the untimely passing of the beloved Luna, the woman who raised her.

In the midst of grief and upheaval, Vanessa’s world is further rocked when she discovers she's been chosen as the Alpha's second chance mate. Alpha Alexander, grappling with unexpected emotions and the significant age gap between them, struggles to come to terms with this twist of fate especially considering Vanessa was once rejected by his own son.

As tensions rise and emotions run high, Alpha Alexander’s conflicted feelings lead him to make a rash decision: to punish Vanessa for a drunken mistake made in the heat of the moment. But as the lines blur between duty, desire, and resentment, both Vanessa and Alpha Alexander find themselves on a collision course with destiny.

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