Rutledge Shepp

I woke up in a strange body, only to find myself being violently laced into a blood-red wedding dress. The Ashford family had finally remembered their abandoned daughter, but only to use me as a disposable substitute. They were forcing me to marry the terrifying Prince Regent in place of their precious darling, Seraphina. The Prince was rumored to be a cursed, crippled monster who had already outlived three dead brides. Everyone knew this wasn't a wedding; it was a brutal death sentence. When I confronted my "father," he coldly told me it was my duty to sacrifice my life so his real daughter could marry the Crown Prince. They thought I was just a weak, useless pawn they could ship off like cattle. They expected me to cry, beg, and accept my tragic fate. But I wasn't that timid girl anymore. I smiled at my so-called father and held out two fingers. "Alright, I'll marry him." I watched their faces pale as my smile widened. "But not for free. Two hundred thousand gold lions." After extorting my own family, I took the carriage to the Prince's castle, where they tried to humiliate me by making me enter through a tiny servant's door. Instead of submitting, I walked over to a thousand-pound marble gargoyle statue by the main entrance. I ripped off my veil, lifted the massive stone beast with my bare hands, and smashed the heavy iron gates to splinters. "Go tell your master his bride has arrived." I let the words sink into the dead silence. "And if he doesn't open this gate, I will tear it down myself."

Arden Mccall gave everything to her fiancé, Hassan Doyle-her loyalty, her blood, and months of deadly missions meant to secure their future. Then Hassan sent her to assassinate his greatest political rival. Before Arden could strike, Darius Blankenship, the ruthless Alpha King, stormed in, killed her target, and discovered what neither of them expected: Arden was his fated mate. He marked her by force. Hassan witnessed it all from behind a sofa. He never tried to save her. Instead, he blamed Arden for ruining his plans, replaced her with the wealthy Sloane Sharpe, and let his family cast her into the streets as a shameless traitor. Now Arden carries the mark of the most feared Alpha in the South-and a bond she never asked for. Worse, Darius is dying from silver poisoning, and her blood may be the only thing powerful enough to save him. To Hassan, she was only a weapon. To Darius, she may be a cure. But Arden is done being used by either man. On the day she was supposed to marry Hassan, she returns to the wedding he has turned into a public celebration of his new alliance with Sloane. This time, Arden brings proof of their betrayal. "Go tell Hassan," she says, facing his terrified best man. "Tell him his bride has arrived."

Elva used a spare key card to quietly enter the hotel penthouse, only to find her boyfriend of two years panting heavily on the king-sized bed with her own cousin. Instead of showing remorse, her cousin shamelessly mocked her background, while her ex aggressively lunged at her to destroy the photographic evidence she had just captured. "You think you can just walk away? Warren already made the deal. By next week, you're being shipped off to marry that fifty-two-year-old crippled freak from the Ramirez family!" Her ex spat the words to threaten her, and the nightmare only escalated when Elva returned to her uncle's estate, where Warren confirmed he was indeed selling her off for a business connection. Her family eagerly joined the abuse, threatening to permanently freeze her late mother's trust fund and even plotting to secretly drug her morning milk so she couldn't fight back when the groom's family arrived. They looked at her like a pathetic, orphaned burden they could bleed dry, fully expecting her to drop to her knees, cry, and accept her miserable fate without a single word of defiance. But they had no idea that just hours ago, Elva had already signed a marriage certificate with Bronson Ramirez, the undisputed billionaire king of the dynasty, and she was stepping into the living room ready to watch their greedy world burn.

My husband's affair pushed me into the arms of his partner, Cole. For three years, he was the perfect, doting husband. I thought I had finally found my happy ending. Then I overheard a phone call and my world collapsed. Our marriage was a lie. I was just a pawn, a tool to keep me docile while his true love secured my ex-husband. He had me brutally beaten, forced me to abort our child, and publicly stripped me in front of hundreds of his colleagues. His final act of cruelty was forcing me to give blood to save the woman who destroyed me, leaving me for dead on the hospital floor. But he made one fatal mistake: he trusted the wrong person to handle our marriage papers. Three years later, I returned as the new Chief Liaison Officer for the International Police. And the first faces I saw at my welcome conference were his and my ex-husband's.

I am the last surviving Rossi, a hostage kept alive solely to be a breeding vessel for the rival Falcone mafia family. The Underboss's wife, Cecile, stripped me bare, slapped me fiercely, and forced me into black lace to warm her husband's bed. "You are nothing but a temporary container to breed the heir I cannot give my husband." She planned to steal my future child and dispose of me the moment I served my purpose. In this ruthless estate, her maids and Damien's mistresses mocked me constantly, waiting for the dirty Rossi leftover to be discarded like trash. I remembered my family begging for mercy right before they were slaughtered by Falcone soldiers. Submission in their world only meant a faster execution. Why should I just accept my fate as a disposable incubator while the monsters who ruined my bloodline paraded as untouched royalty? Instead of cowering, I mercilessly rubbed my bruised cheek until it turned a vicious purple, biting my lip until it bled. I walked into Damien's study, looking the ruthless Underboss dead in the eye. "Cecile can give him a name, but I will give him a spine." When Damien saw my ruined face and heard my defiance, the cold monster finally snapped. He didn't just protect his property; he publicly stripped his wife of her power, banished his mistresses, and locked the family's reigning sapphires around my neck. Cecile thought she was sending me to the slaughterhouse, but she had just handed me the throne.

I was once the untouchable heiress to the Schroeder empire, until a corporate fraud conviction stripped away my life and threw me into federal prison for five brutal years. On the day of my release, I stepped out into the freezing rain only to realize I had been utterly abandoned by everyone I loved. My family sent no one. My former best friends blocked my number, and high-society women took photos of my shivering, pathetic state for laughs. To survive, I made a desperate deal to act as the fake fiancée of Kayden Washington, a ruthless, disgraced billionaire fighting his own blood. But the moment we joined forces, the nightmare escalated. Our safehouse was ransacked, we were hunted by tactical hitmen in the dark, and my adoptive brother stole my dead mother's diary just to bribe me into leaving New York forever. Worse, the digital trail of my framing traced back to a top-tier operative manipulating both our families from the shadows. I didn't understand why my own family had sacrificed me like a worthless pawn to ignite a massive, invisible war. What dark secret was I actually taking the fall for? Just as Kayden and I prepared to burn both empires to the ground, a mysterious courier dropped a package at my door. Inside rested the Schroeder Patriarch's solid gold ring—the ultimate symbol of absolute power—sent directly to me, the disgraced exile. "They took your past, but I will give you the power to forge a new future." The game hadn't just changed. The board had been flipped, and I was going back to take the throne.

I was a Mafia Princess, and he was the gutter rat I tried to make a King. On our wedding day, with five hundred guests watching, Luca Moretti didn't say his vows. Instead, after receiving a photo of a secret child, he looked at me with panic and backed away from the altar. "I can't do this," he announced to the silent church. "She's here. She'll ruin the kid." He chose a waitress and their illegitimate daughter over me. He walked out, leaving me humiliated in a dress that cost more than most people's lives. Forty-eight hours later, he married her. He gave the waitress my ring, my future, and his name, all to protect a child he had hidden from me. When I confronted him weeks later, he looked at me with cold eyes and told me he did it for honor. He destroyed me to save them, convinced I would fade away into the background. He thought he could break a Vitiello and not pay the price. Five years later, I returned to Chicago. The gala went silent as I walked in, wearing blood-red silk. Luca approached me, eyes full of regret, begging for a second chance, claiming his marriage to the waitress was a mistake. He thought he could win me back. Until a little girl ran into the room—my daughter. And behind her walked my husband. Not a soldier, but the Reaper himself, Dante Cavallaro. Luca’s face turned pale as he realized the truth. He had left me at the altar to play father, but I had married the Devil to become a Queen.

My wedding was three days away when the police told me my fiancé, David Reed, was dead, lost to the sea in a hiking accident. Just like that, I became a pregnant widow, my world turning gray. Then, David' s older brother, Mark Reed, returned from Africa. When I saw him, the resemblance to David was shocking, a ghost in my living room with a slightly deeper voice. I found myself staring, haunted by his presence. One night, the baby kicking, I overheard voices from the study. It was David' s laugh. My blood ran cold, and I crept closer, the door ajar. "You have to be more careful, David. She almost looked at you funny today," Eleanor whispered. "Relax, Mom. She' s a wreck," David sneered, his voice dripping with confidence. My grief was a joke. He had faked his death for Aisha, a mistress he planned to return to once her supposed terminal illness ran its course. I was a backup plan, a safety net. His mother, the woman who had held me while I cried, was in on the disgusting lie. The pain in my abdomen intensified, a physical manifestation of my agony. I stumbled back to my room, locking the door. My brother Chris called, saying I' d sent a blank text. I heard Aisha' s soft giggle in the hall. She was here, in my house, looking healthy and triumphant. Her eyes met mine through the crack in the door, a cruel, deliberate look that said, "I have him. You have nothing." My mind went blank with rage, then settled into a chilling calm. The game was on.

The phone felt heavy in my hand, a cold, dead weight. It had been a year since I last heard her voice, a year of silence that felt like a lifetime. My doctor' s words echoed in my head: "Glioblastoma, stage four. I' m sorry, Ethan. We' re talking months, maybe less." I called her, my thumb hovering over the button. "Happy wedding day," I said, pushing the words out. "And the second thing… you once promised that you' d carry my coffin after I die." The line went dead. A week after that promise, Olivia had left me. "I never loved you, Ethan," she had said, her face a mask of indifference. Her words broke me more than the illness ever could. That' s why I was in Zurich, in a sterile room, scheduled to end my life tomorrow. But then I saw her, by the lake, skipping stones, just like we used to. As I took a step towards her, a man came up, wrapping his arm around her waist. Liam Stone. "Olivia' s fiancé," he said, extending a hand. "We' re actually getting married tomorrow." My death day would be her wedding day. The universe had a sick sense of humor. I fled, only to stumble into the path of an oncoming tram. Olivia saved me, pulling me back. But as she pulled me up, her sleeve rode up, and I saw it: a silver bracelet, engraved with "L.S." She had been with him while we were still together. My life, my love, my everything, was a lie. "I' m dying," I told her, hoarse. "I have a brain tumor." Her facade cracked. Then, she asked me for a favor. "I need you to take the photos, Ethan. Just for the ceremony." I agreed, on one condition: "I want a photo. Just one. Of you and me. Together." She agreed, then immediately abandoned me for Liam. At the wedding, she used my origami stars, our special date on her new wedding ring. "It never meant anything, Ethan," she said, her eyes cold. "It was never real." I was numb. I left, heading back to the clinic, my fate sealed. Then, a text from Liam: We could use an extra hand with some last-minute wedding preparations. He was trying to buy my compliance, to turn my final day into a transaction. Fine, I replied. I didn' t know why I agreed. Maybe I needed to burn the image of her happiness into my brain so I could finally let go.

We were two weeks away from our wedding, a culmination of seven years I' d poured into supporting Nicole' s dream. Then, she dropped a bomb: she was going to be a surrogate for Ryan, her deceased mentor' s manipulative son, because "he needed this." She left me stranded at a funeral in a storm, prioritized his emotional needs over my life-threatening allergy, and when I faced a high fever alone, she quietly packed an overnight bag to go stay with him. Each abandonment was a calculated betrayal, a casual cruelty that ripped through my heart, leaving me invisible and discarded. I looked at her, at the woman who had systematically erased my worth, and realized: my future, my very existence, meant absolutely nothing to her. So I wrote a desperate Instagram post: "Wedding in two weeks. Need a new bride. Any takers?" My phone buzzed, and an unknown number with a Seattle area code changed everything.

We were the Hale brothers, Liam and Ethan, groomed to inherit an empire of power and influence. Our upcoming engagement dinner wasn't just a celebration; it was the strategic alliance that would cement our dynasty. But on the eve of that pivotal night, a blinding flash, a screech, and a brutal car crash threw us into a living nightmare. I saw it all with horrifying clarity: our future, laid bare. Our names, smeared across every screen as traitors. Our father' s empire, dissolving into dust. And leading the charge? Our fiancées, Ava and Chloe, their faces masks of cold righteousness as they delivered soul-crushing lies to federal investigators, all orchestrated by Julian, their hidden puppet master. Ava accusing me of illegal server access, Chloe claiming Ethan's desperation. Two unforgivable lies, whispered by the women we loved, fueled by a shadow. The memory of a gun in my hand, Ethan's shot, then my own – the only escape from prison – was an unbearable weight. Then, a gasp. The smell of antiseptic. Waking in a hospital bed, Ethan beside me, his eyes wide with the same shared horror. The nurse smiled brightly: "Just in time for your family dinner tonight!" The engagement dinner. Our last chance. Not fools this time.

My father arranged my marriage to Liam, the man I' d secretly loved for a decade. But on our wedding night, Liam, seeing only a gilded cage and forced manipulation, turned his back, muttering, "You got what you wanted, Ava." He fled overseas for three years, leaving me to raise our daughter, Grace, alone. He returned with his ex-girlfriend Chloe and her daughter Skylar. Liam shamelessly favored Skylar, explicitly neglecting Grace, even re-gifting Chloe's old scarf to me. Confirmation of his true life came from a public video where he boasted of "peak happiness" with Chloe and her child. My heart, once foolishly hopeful, shattered into ice. The man I loved was a brutal illusion; the one in that video, smiling with another's child, was real. How could he be so utterly cruel to his own flesh and blood, treating me merely as a disposable burden? The final snap came when Grace suffered a severe allergic reaction. Liam, however, prioritized Skylar' s minor heat rash, diverting critically needed specialists. As Grace gasped, her innocent whisper, "Mommy, if Daddy likes Skylar more, it's okay. I just need you," ignited an unbreakable resolve. He would never hurt her again.

Caleb served as an assistant for four years and a canary for three years. I never thought I could walk out of that villa that imprisoned me. Nathan, the poor school grass with disabled legs, returned after six years abroad and successfully defeated the Griffin Group. Caleb went bankrupt and became a destitute. Nathan carried me out of that villa, holding me in his hands like a princess for a year. On my 26th birthday, I was killed by Caleb in the villa. Nathan, covered in blood, held me and said calmly, "Yaoyao, you go first, I will follow soon." Looking at his tearful eyes, I desperately prayed to the gods to save him and let him live. The gods answered my prayers. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to 18 years old. Nathan, this time it's my turn to save you.

In our past life, I was chosen for the royal court, ascending to the throne as Queen, only to discover I was merely a shield for the King's true love, eventually dying by a poisoned chalice. Meanwhile, my half-sister married the powerful Marquis of Blackwood. But when he was crippled in an accident, she vented her bitter regret by abusing his adopted sons, ultimately being cast out and becoming the laughingstock of high society. When we both opened our eyes and returned to the morning our fates were decided, my sister lunged forward and desperately snatched the royal selection brooch from my hands. "The supreme glory of the court belongs to me this time!" she sneered. I lowered my head to hide a cold smile. Go ahead, sister. Take that golden death warrant. Without hesitation, I picked up the remaining marriage proposal and chose Lord Dylan Lucas, the ruthless and fearsome Marquis of the North. On our wedding night, my new husband looked at me with eyes like winter frost. "I will not offer you my affection, my companionship, or my bed," he declared coldly. "You are merely here to be a nominal mother to my three adopted sons." "I understand, my lord," I replied meekly, secretly thrilled. A loveless marriage with wealth, power, and adorable children? It was the perfect retirement plan for a woman who had barely survived a palace bloodbath. I played my part perfectly. I used my hidden medical skills to heal his frail youngest son, effortlessly outmaneuvered his hostile relatives, and brought life back to his gloomy estate. I asked for nothing but peace. But I miscalculated one thing. The "cold and ruthless" Marquis wasn't supposed to watch me from the shadows with darkening, possessive eyes. He wasn't supposed to investigate my past. And he certainly wasn't supposed to shatter his own rules. "You've conquered my household and my sons, Gabriella," he whispered one night, cornering me in the study, his stormy grey eyes pinning me in place. "Tell me... when do you plan to conquer me?"

After being harmed, my soul left my body, and I discovered the truth that my whole family wanted to harm me. So I started to fight back. I began to teach my younger brother, distance myself from my fiancé, take control of the family business, and audit my mother's dowry shop. I forced my stepmother and father to make up for the embezzled money, and then set a trap to catch my stepsister Nora and fiancé Max in the act of adultery, spreading the scandal throughout Eighphia. After seeking treatment from a renowned doctor, my health gradually improved. I exposed my stepmother's actions against me, sought revenge, and gradually revealed the truth that it was my own good father who was behind the harm to me and my mother. Through confrontation and covert investigation, I gathered evidence and uncovered a secret that was enough to destroy my father's entire family... I avenged myself and my mother, and also found a fulfilling marriage.

I woke up in a strange body, only to find myself being violently laced into a blood-red wedding dress. The Ashford family had finally remembered their abandoned daughter, but only to use me as a disposable substitute. They were forcing me to marry the terrifying Prince Regent in place of their precious darling, Seraphina. The Prince was rumored to be a cursed, crippled monster who had already outlived three dead brides. Everyone knew this wasn't a wedding; it was a brutal death sentence. When I confronted my "father," he coldly told me it was my duty to sacrifice my life so his real daughter could marry the Crown Prince. They thought I was just a weak, useless pawn they could ship off like cattle. They expected me to cry, beg, and accept my tragic fate. But I wasn't that timid girl anymore. I smiled at my so-called father and held out two fingers. "Alright, I'll marry him." I watched their faces pale as my smile widened. "But not for free. Two hundred thousand gold lions." After extorting my own family, I took the carriage to the Prince's castle, where they tried to humiliate me by making me enter through a tiny servant's door. Instead of submitting, I walked over to a thousand-pound marble gargoyle statue by the main entrance. I ripped off my veil, lifted the massive stone beast with my bare hands, and smashed the heavy iron gates to splinters. "Go tell your master his bride has arrived." I let the words sink into the dead silence. "And if he doesn't open this gate, I will tear it down myself."

The peaceful life of the general's daughter will change for better or worse as she marries the Emperor's son. Along with their marriage, she will discover the darkest secrets buried in the deepest corner of the kingdom: Love will be her armor and beauty will be her weapon.

A demonic village won by God through a Pastor using an unbelievable miracle

When an inquisitive young man finds a tattered old poetry book which had slipped behind shelves at the back of a musty second-hand book shop in Rangoon/Yangon, his curiosity about the long-forgotten author is sparked. But bookworm Lin’s quest to find out more about the life of the mysterious, unheralded colonial author takes him into a labyrinth where he discovers truth and lies. When bewildered Lin accidentally loses the book, is everything lost? This suspense-filled tale reveals heart-warming surprises, and ultimately, secrets about life remembering and immortality. The novel is mainly about the forgotten British poet/writer named C. J Richards who lived in Burma/Myanmar in colonial times and he believed himself as a Burmophile. He served as I.C.S (Indian Civil Servant) and when he retired from I.C.S service, he was a D.C (District Commissioner) and he left for England a year before Burma gained its independence in 1948. He came to Burma in 1920 to work in civil service after passing the hardest I.C.S examination. He wrote several books on Burma and contributed many monthly articles to Guardian Magazine published in Burma from 1953 to 1974 or 1975. Though he wrote several books which had much literary merit to both communities, Britain and Burma (Myanmar), people failed to recognize him. The story has three parts: one part is set in the contemporary Yangon (then called Rangoon) in 2016 and 2017 context and a young literary enthusiast named “Lin” found out unexpectedly the forgotten writer's poetry book and there is surely a good deal of time gap that led him into a quest to know more about the author’s life. The setting is quite different compared to colonial Burma and independence Myanmar (Burma), early twentieth century and 2016 which is a transitional period in Myanmar. The writer’s life is fictionalized in the novel and most of the facts are taken from his personal stories and other reference books. It is a kind of historical novel with a twist and it has comparatively constructed the two different periods in Myanmar history to convince readers, locally and abroad more about history, authorship, humanity, colonialism, and transitional development in Myanmar today.

What would you think of someone riding around the countryside snatching bride and bridegrooms? Is he insane, bisexual? Gay? What if he were only five ? Why then? Here we have the tale of Yun Canglan, who was born into an ancient past after perishing accidentally in the modern world. Her first thought was fear, her first sight was a sworn protector. Secretly a daughter of the high general, she was raised as the son, because of the mark of the fire phoenix. It was foretold long before, the one who bore such a mark would unite and rule the world!  Wow!  A heroine for the people! That though is a long way off! Before she can attain her legacy she will be betrayed by love, raise an army, face danger and fears and overcome the illusion of death to seek revenge, on the one who she trusted above all others! Can she be the one the prophesy spoke of? To find out, turn the page!

Song Peizhi finds herself tangled with the same soul and man in thirteen different worlds due to his interference with the Wheel of Transmigration. Throw in the Crown Prince of the Immortal Realm who seems dead set on pursuing her, she is stuck between two men that love her more than life itself. Who will she choose? Who knows. She has always had a low EQ. *** PS: An EQ (emotional quotient) means "a (notional) measure of a person's adequacy in such areas as self-awareness, empathy, and dealing sensitively with other people" (Collins Dictionary).

Born a high-ranking duke’s successor, Lady Francesca Chandler was sure of her future, not until the appearance of her stepmother, who robs her of father’s attention. In order to gain his favor, she would intentionally involve herself in petty society scandals, garnering the infamous label of being the scandalous lady. But things get more complicated with the sudden death of her father which put her right over the much loved duchy at stake! Vicious Duchess Carlotta is taking advantage of young Francesca’s minority to ship her off to the long-agreed betrothal before she hits legal age where she can decide on her own. In response, young duke’s daughter pulled a boldest unladylike move. If she can’t get hold of the favor of the Chancellor to nullify her engagement to the man she never met. She would mind less being called scandalous again if that would mean to save her house and her freedom. Throwing her virtue to a rich, wealthy man of her own taste, with a respectable ancient title, was the only prospect available. A rake hell like Lord Syford would definitely do.

Tina is born in a traditional family who hold traditional values sacred, but a whim of obsession which she mistakes for love makes her defy the ways of the tradition. The gods are not happy, but it's too late for her and she can't avoid the repercussions because it's the will of the gods.