Novels

I was about to give blood to my daughter, Lily, who shared my rare blood type. But my husband, Mark, dragged me away to save his pregnant first love, Amelia. In my past life, I’d given Lily a full 600ml, leaving me too weak to help Amelia. That night, Amelia died in childbirth, losing both herself and the baby. Mark, seemingly concerned for my well-being, comforted me, "Our daughter comes first. You did the right thing." But on the seventh day after Amelia's death, in front of Lily, he drained every drop of blood from my body. "Lily just got a little

After ten years together, Ethan still hadn't proposed. I couldn't help but ask him if he ever would. His response was calm, almost businesslike, deflecting the question with practiced ease. I looked down at the photo on my phone. His new secretary, Melissa, was wearing a diamond ring touted as "The One" and a wedding dress supposedly the only one of its kind in the world. She was nestled in his arms, smiling, and he was looking back at her with tenderness. Suddenly, I didn't want a future with him anymore. 1. Melissa was bubbly and outgoing. As we left work, she

At our high school reunion, my wife, Sarah, nonchalantly ate a bite of cake offered by her first love, David. The room erupted in hoots and hollers, everyone staring at me, waiting for my reaction. But instead of losing it, I pulled out my phone, turned on the flash, and started snapping pictures. "You guys are adorable," I said, grinning. "Do a peace sign! I gotta post this online. Everyone needs to see this." Sarah had just taken a bite of David's half-eaten red velvet cupcake – the same little green plastic fork, still smeared with cream cheese frosting, that he'd

As a man, fearing the pain of childbirth for my wife, I went for a vasectomy and died on the operating table. By the time my wife remembered I existed, I'd been dead for two years. She called my mother, asking for our marriage certificate so she could register our child for school. My mom nearly lost it, screaming, "My son is dead! Sam is dead! Even in death you won't leave him alone, trying to paint him as a cheater!" On the other end of the line, Alyssa, extremely impatient, assuming I was pulling another stunt, hung up and

Six months ago, Sarah told me the factory wasn't doing well, and our food stamps and meat rations were cut. I believed her. Then one day, I saw her pocketing most of her paycheck, food stamps, and meat rations, only to hand them over to her best friend's widower and his daughter. I blew up, but she just said coldly, "You got him fired with your outburst. Go home and think about what you did." Then, she had him take my job at the factory. Now, I hustle day and night selling socks at a street stall. People ask me why I work

Ashley’s nanny’s daughter, Tiffany, sold my eight-million-dollar yacht. Said I was constantly having abortions and needed the money donated to a temple to, you know, build up some good karma for me. My brother, Jason, backed her up, totally throwing me under the bus. My classmates turned it into a joke. My fiancé, Ethan, heard about it, thought I was way too wild, and broke off the engagement. So, I called the cops. But they all ganged up, claimed I was crazy, and had me committed. My family orchestrated my torture at the asylum, and I died young. Then, I opened my eyes, and I

Before I agreed to marry Mark, I knew about his childhood sweetheart, Sarah. They'd had a nasty breakup, supposedly water under the bridge. I was pregnant and happily planning our wedding. Then, Sarah got into an accident, lost her memory, and reverted back to the sweet sixteen-year-old she'd once been. Mark asked me to be understanding, to be patient with her, to indulge her. My jewelry, makeup, clothes, bags – if she wanted it, she got it. Our house? Hers to stay in as she pleased. Then came the wedding day. Friends and family, everyone was there. Sarah burst in, wearing a

Ashley was traded for his childhood sweetheart. “Chloe isn’t as tough as you. You won't die in just a week!” Mark sneered. Everyone knew Damien was a sadist who enjoyed inflicting pain. Mark was right, I didn't die. But my memory stopped at eighteen. At eighteen, I never loved him. … The sun was blinding as I stepped out of Damien’s mansion. A black Bentley pulled up, and the driver got out. "Ms. Smith, Mr. Reed sent me to take you to Ms. Bell’s birthday party. Get in." I froze, my mind struggling to process his words. "Ms. Smith, hurry up. Don't make Mr. Reed angry again." The driver’s impatience

When the earthquake hit, my sister, Lily, and I were buried. I was badly injured. Mom, a rescue worker, wanted to move the rubble crushing me to save Lily first. I begged her not to, it wasn't safe. But she snapped, “You’re so selfish! You’d rather your sister die! I wish I’d never had you!” She got her wish. I died. And Mom, who’d never liked me much, lost her mind. 1 I died, but my soul lingered near Mom. She carried Lily toward the medical tent, her face etched with worry. “Lily, honey, stay with me. The doctor’s coming.” Dad raged, “That Anna!