

I died on the day I was supposed to receive the Pack’s Distinguished Service Award. Three hours after I died, my parents, my brother, and my mate were just wrapping up the graduation party they’d thrown for my sister. While my sister, Ella, was posting a cozy family photo on Instagram, I was locked in our basement, using my tongue to swipe on my phone and call for help. The only person who answered was my mate, Ryan. All he said was, "Sophie, cut the drama. Ella's graduation party is important. Enough with the tantrums!" This was the ninety-ninth time they had let me down. And the last. I lay in a pool of my own blood, my lungs still. They thought I was just throwing a fit, hiding somewhere. That if they taught me a lesson, I’d come crawling back. But they didn't know. I was home the whole time. I was already dead.

"Every time my husband, Dave Tarrett, spent the night at his ex Maggie Gorringe's place, he bought me another building. Two years into our marriage, I owned 285 commercial properties across the country. Which also meant Dave had screwed me over 285 times. After the deed to property number 286 landed in my hands, Maggie sent me another smug little video. ""So what if Dave throws money at you? I'm the one who gets his body and his heart. You might be some international supermodel, but you still can't get your own husband into bed."" I didn't bother arguing. Instead, I mailed her the newest Victoria's Secret set from my latest runway show. When Dave found out how ""generous"" I'd been, he rewarded me by taking me to some elite social event. During a party game, Maggie lost three rounds straight and got dared to lick whipped cream off some playboy's thigh. She grabbed a wine bottle, smashed it, and shoved the jagged edge against her neck. ""Dave, I'm not letting anyone humiliate me like this!"" Dave—usually cold as ice—instantly panicked. Then he turned to me. Of course he did. ""It's just whipped cream,"" he said softly. ""Do this for her. I swear I'll go home with you after."" Everyone waited for me to lose it. But I stayed calm and agreed without a word. He didn't know this was the 287th time he'd hurt me. And I was done being his pet. Once I paid back the debt I owed him for saving my life, we'd be done for good. "

Carl, chief research supervisor at Ark Base, was exiled for developing a zombie cure against Kevin's orders. Now surviving with his eight-year-old daughter Nancy, tragedy strikes when she's bitten protecting him during a horde attack. As his daughter turns into a zombie, Carl becomes the most unlikely father in the apocalypse—determined to protect her at all costs.

In the Grace of the Gods, humans receive fragments of divinity. Deliveryman Tyler Newman is killed by the assassin Mandy Hayes—but awakens as the SSS-rank Headless God. Reborn with godlike power, he saves his childhood friend, becomes the bodyguard of Nora Shaw from the Horizon Guild, and races to rescue his younger sister from ruthless villains.

During the office party, tipsy Summer mistakenly wandered into her boss Calvin's room. Rumor has it that Calvin steers clear of women and is all action, no talk. Any girl caught in his crosshairs ends up miserably. A month later, Summer eyes the pregnancy test with one thought on her mind: Run! She runs, he chases, but she's in over her head!

Diana is blamed for poisoning the Larson family on the eve of her wedding and becomes the most hated criminal in the world. Everyone believes the orphaned girl betrayed the family that raised her and killed them all. But when a live stream reveals her hidden memories, the truth finally comes out. The real killers are exposed, and everyone who condemned Diana is left begging for forgiveness. Her fiancé Victor, who once hated her, spends every day at her bedside, drowning in regret.

After my older sister Rachelle came home from dialysis, the atmosphere at home was suffocating. She curled up on the couch, thin as a rail. She was nagging me hard and telling me not to tire myself out too much at work. Dad was by the door smoking. To get money to treat Rachelle’s condition, he had sold our old house and land. Dirty and muddied, my fiance, who had always viewed Rachelle as a sister of his own, brought home his week’s salary. They all lamented how unfair life was to already poor and suffering people who had to suffer even more. I looked at myself in the mirror with my bleeding nose and flushed away the report with my acute leukemia diagnosis. During dinner, Dad suddenly said, “Ryleigh, Rachelle needs a kidney. You’re healthy and young. You might be a match.” I looked at Rachelle’s pleading eyes and coldly put my cutlery down. “I won’t do it. I’ll be a cripple with one less kidney. How am I supposed to find someone to marry then?” Dad slapped me hard, even as my fiance called me ungrateful. I slammed the door shut as I left. I looked for the nearest room to the hospital to rent so that I could wait it out until I died. The room I found was only five blocks away from the organ donation center.

The second day after I was transferred back to Los Angeles, I ran into someone I used to know on a street corner. She stepped right in front of me, eyes going wide. “Mia? Mia Rossi? Why would you come back now? Dante's marrying Camille at the cathedral in a week.” Dante was my first love, and also the youngest heir to a mafia dynasty on this side of the Atlantic. He'd made me a promise once: that he'd make the entire Moretti family kneel and welcome me in. We had a deal: the day he officially took over as Don would be the day he married me. But his family had other plans. They arranged a match for him: Camille, a princess from one of Sicily's five great families. Pure bloodline, the genuine article. At first, Dante swore up and down she meant nothing to him. Less than nothing. Then I started noticing how he looked at her. Softer every time. Like he was falling. One night, riding home after a shift at the bar, Camille's car came out of nowhere and took me down. The gas tank caught, and half the block reeked of burning rubber and scorched metal. I was pinned under the wreckage, blood seeping from the back of my skull down my neck, warm at first, then cold. Dante was the first one there. He beat the ambulance. The first thing he did was walk past me. He crouched down, lifted Camille out of the passenger seat, and didn't look at me once, just dropped a few words over his shoulder: “I already called an ambulance. Hang tight. Camille's had too much to drink. I need to get her home.” That was the moment I was done with him. Completely, finally done. While he was gone, I discharged myself. I bought the farthest plane ticket I could find that same night and left without looking back. Five years passed. “Mia, you have no idea.” The woman grabbed my wrist, dropping her voice. “Dante spent years turning half of Europe upside down looking for you. You came back at the right time. He still keeps a seat for you every month on his birthday. Camille's too proud for a lot of things

Nancy Grant, a stressed-out office worker, accidentally enters a melodramatic novel as the naive heiress.Raised in the countryside, she's uneducated and often annoys her family and fiancé. With a system task to increase their hatred towards her, she acts clumsily.However, a system glitch exposes her thoughts, leading to a series of unexpected stories. Eventually, everyone changes their views on her, and she completes the opposite task with double the reward!