Novels

I had a thing for my best friend's brother-in-law, Professor Ben Harrison. One late night, I texted him: "Babe, you're seriously gorgeous." He replied with two words: "Keep it professional." After a month of chasing, this unattainable hunk wouldn't budge. Then, the second month, my best friend called, sobbing, saying she wanted a divorce. I puffed up my chest and declared, "I'll be right there with you!" Then, I texted Ben: "Old man, you're probably useless anyway!" "Peace out, never wanna see you again!" That night, Ben cornered me in my room, and I ended up tearfully apologizing. “I messed up.” He chuckled darkly, "Too late for that." 01 My bestie,

I dated Ethan once, back in the day. Lasted about three months before he dumped me. Said I was too much of a good girl, didn't have enough edge. So, I tried hanging with my childhood friend, the one who thought she was a rebel. She blew smoke rings at me, told me to go back to my books; I didn’t have the bad girl thing in me. I got the message. After some serious soul-searching about my dumb teenage ideas and my belief in “love conquers all”, I did the smart thing and found myself a rich guy. This guy was Liam,

The zombie outbreak hit hard. We were down to our last can of beans, and my five-year-old daughter, Lily, was chilling on the couch like it was no big deal. "Guess I'm gonna be an early bloomer...gone too soon, ya know?" she said, all dramatic-like. I knew I had to do something. I swallowed my pride and dialed her deadbeat dad. He answered. That night, a zombie pounded on our door. He was wearing a suit, for Pete's sake, all dapper, with gray skin, and these crazy, milky eyes. He wasn't like the other zombies, all bloodied and ragged. This guy looked like he just

My five-year-old daughter, Lily, came home from preschool and immediately dropped to her knees, begging me not to send her back. She said she just didn't want to go anymore. When I asked her why, she just cried and shook her head, refusing to say anything. Something felt really wrong, so I lifted her shirt. Her back and arms were covered in a mess of tiny puncture marks – like someone had been sticking her with needles. I was shaking with rage. I snapped a picture and posted it in the preschool parent group chat, demanding, “Who did this?” A woman with the name

I'm drop-dead gorgeous, but let's be real, I'm not exactly firing on all cylinders upstairs. So, I get dragged into the palace to be a royal concubine. This one senator starts ranting: "Your Majesty, she's a femme fatale..." I lift my veil, give him a look, and the guy just freezes. "She's a femme fatale...whoa! Like, what a smokeshow. I propose we make her queen! They say beauty comes from within, and someone this stunning has gotta have a good heart, right?!?" Then there's this other concubine, Susie, always doing the fake-nice act, like a total Karen. It got on my nerves, so one day,

The first year was a nightmare. I was consumed by pain, sleepless nights, and a feeling of utter worthlessness. Yet, I refused to file for divorce; I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. The second year, Mark moved out, citing some legal mumbo jumbo about needing to be separated for two years before a divorce could be finalized. One night, our son, Leo, came down with a terrible stomach bug. It was a blizzard outside, and I rushed him to the ER alone. He was throwing up the whole way, and I was a mess, totally overwhelmed. We somehow made it through. The third

My husband and his old flame, tangled up in his Escalade, wound up carbon monoxide poisoned. Sixty years old and a total space cadet, all I could do was bawl and call my son, begging for help. I was terrified, so weak, so helpless. "Brandon," I sobbed, "Your dad and… and… Delia are dying in the car!" Brandon's voice was sharp with irritation, "Mom, can you just stop? Seriously? "Dad and Delia are just old friends, why do you keep going on about this? "Chloe's not feeling well, I don't have time for your drama!" And he hung up. Tears streamed down my face as I

The elementary school parent group chat was buzzing. Mrs. Johnson, the teacher, had just posted a photo and tagged me: "Mr. Miller, Emma was hurt in class. She got into a fight. Can you please come to the school?" I tapped the photo. My daughter’s face was bruised, her clothes ripped. Furious, I replied, "Who did this?" A contact labeled "John Smith Sr." replied arrogantly: "My son did! Deal with it!" Then, he uploaded two images. One was my wife's wedding photo. The other was a picture of me, my daughter, and my wife together. "You pathetic leech! You dared steal my wife, and you had a love child?

The opening ceremony was a big deal, and I was chosen to give the welcome speech as a new student. But then, my roommate, Tiffany, decided to turn it into a Jerry Springer episode, claiming I was sleeping with her dad. “I saw her getting out of the car my dad bought for me, laughing and chatting! He even said he’d get her a new ride!” she screeched, loud enough for the whole auditorium to hear. Suddenly, I was public enemy number one. The school was even threatening to kick me out. So, right there in front of everyone, I called her