Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Secretly His: May The Best Man Dare To Kiss The Bride!
For ten years, Melanie and Gabriel looked like a fairy tale couple. People envied how he "cherished" her-no one saw the other woman on the side. When the affair surfaced, Melanie slid divorce papers across the table. "Gabriel, you don't deserve my love anymore." She walked away, unaware Rhett had watched her for eleven years. He'd been best man at her wedding, grinning while jealousy chewed him raw. After the split, Melanie buried herself in work and went global. Gabriel found her in his best friend's arms, his gaze burning with fury. "Was it him? Is he the reason you left me?" Rhett stepped in front of her. "You never deserved her. She was meant to be mine."/0/81154/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106194931&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billion-Dollar Dirt Farm
The air in the Oakhaven County Courthouse records office was thick with the smell of old paper. My pen hovered over the sales agreement for the little house on Elm Street, my entire inheritance from Grandma about to be invested, mostly in my boyfriend Mark' s name. I envisioned our future, eager to make his big dreams a reality. Then, a cold dread washed over me – a memory both utterly foreign and terrifyingly real. I had signed these papers before. In that forgotten life, Mark, emboldened by newly discovered fracking rights on the land, took my money, left me for Brenda, and abandoned me. I was left with nothing, ultimately dying alone from pneumonia in a brutal winter. My eyes snapped up. Across the room, Mark leaned against the wall, whispering to Brenda. She giggled, glancing at me with a sly, triumphant smirk. "We'll paint the kitchen yellow," Brenda declared, her voice carrying, "That awful blue Sarah likes has to go." Mark chuckled, "Anything you want, Bren. It's gonna be our place, after all." My place. My inheritance. A sickening punch to the gut. This was it – the exact, soul-crushing moment of betrayal, relived. How could this be happening? Was I insane? But then, a fierce realization ignited within me. I wasn't dead. I was here. My heart hammered, "A second chance!" The naive Sarah was gone, frozen to death in another timeline. This Sarah remembered everything. My hand, trembling no longer, closed into a fist. And with a defiant roar of paper, I ripped the sales agreement in half./1/107279/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260128192116&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Placeholder Bride, My Bitter Revenge
On the eve of my wedding to Grant Sutton, the heir to a vast real estate empire, I discovered the devastating truth. I wasn't his great love; I was just a convenient replacement for his wild, untamable ex, Ivory. He didn't love me. He loved that I was a polished, "suitable" version of the woman he truly wanted. When I walked away, he didn't just let me go. He destroyed me. After I published an exposé on his company's shady dealings, he had me fired and systematically ruined my reputation, painting me as a vengeful liar in the press. My own family turned on me, furious. "Think about us, Avery! You owe us this!" my sister shrieked, caring only about the fortune I'd lost them. I was left with nothing-no career, no family, no future. All because I was a placeholder in a love story that was never mine. Three years later, I came back. Not as the broken fiancée, but as A. Trevino, the anonymous journalist whose latest investigation targeted an elite institution. An institution with deep ties to the Sutton family. And this time, I wouldn't be the one who was destroyed./1/101178/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106221732&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Viral Betrayal: A Wife's Agony
My husband Jeremy crashed a wedding for his ex, Donnie, and the video went viral. I was at home, pregnant and making his favorite lasagna, when I saw him screaming about saving her from the groom. This wasn't the first time. Three years ago, his obsession with playing her hero cost me our first baby. He swore it would never happen again. He had promised to be there for my prenatal check-up, but he abandoned me to rescue her instead. When he finally came home that night, he fell to his knees, crying and begging for another chance, just like he did before. He looked pathetic. But this time, I felt nothing but a cold, hollow emptiness. The woman who loved him was already dead. I looked him straight in the eye and calmly delivered the final blow. "I had an abortion today. The baby is gone." "Sign the papers, Jeremy."/0/82562/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106200643&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Chem 101: Blind Justice
I was Ethan, a PhD candidate, proctoring the Chem 101 final, my future in chemistry looking bright. Then, without warning, the exam sheet blurred, students' faces dissolved, and my vision vanished into impenetrable darkness. My world went black, doctors found no cause, and my promising academic career evaporated into years of navigating a sightless existence, a struggle that culminated in my murder at a community fair, just moments after I shockingly overheard an arrogant student, Mark Jensen, boast that my inexplicable blindness was the best thing that ever happened to him. To die senselessly, just as I' d found the answer to why my life was stolen, was an unbearable injustice. But then, I blinked, and the fluorescent lights of the Chem 101 exam room flashed above me once more, the clock ticking down to the very moment my world first went dark./1/116509/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260528203256&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Flash Marriage To The Possessive Billionaire
Serena was pulled out of a filthy Appalachian trailer park by the wealthy Sinclair family, expected to be their perfectly obedient daughter. But to secure a pharmaceutical supply chain, her adoptive father demanded she sign a marriage contract with a known predator in the Manhattan social scene. When she flatly refused, the family she had tried to please for twenty years instantly turned on her. "You are nothing without us!" her father roared, threatening to freeze her accounts and throw her back on the streets. Her adoptive mother looked at her with pure disgust, praising her perfect sister before screaming at Serena to get out and never come back. Stripped of her jewelry and kicked out into the freezing night, she was treated like a disposable stray dog. To make matters worse, a vindictive socialite immediately hired four syndicate thugs to break her legs in a dark alley. They all thought she was just a helpless, penniless orphan who would eventually crawl back and beg for their mercy. They had no idea she was actually the elusive master pharmacist Elara, a genius with a massive underground bounty on her head. And they certainly didn't know she was already secretly, legally married to Lucas Sterling-the most ruthless and powerful billionaire in New York. As the thugs lunged at her, a black Maybach violently blocked the alley, and her fiercely protective husband stepped out into the shadows. Tearing her adoptive mother's hush-money check into tiny shreds, Serena looked at the man who had just offered her his entire estate. She wasn't leaving this city; she was going to stay right here and watch the Sinclair family completely fall apart./0/81780/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106195819&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Happily Ever After, Without You
Five years ago, I drove away from Boston, vowing never to look back at the city that had shattered my world. I had meticulously rebuilt my life in Portland, nurturing a freelance design business, a loving marriage with my supportive husband, David, and a joyful life with our son, Leo. But a mandatory design conference now pulled me back, forcing me to confront the ghosts of a past I had believed were long buried. The first ghost appeared in the form of Jessica Bellwether, a former sorority sister, whose familiar laugh cut through the convention center's buzz. She approached me with that same pitying smile, mentioning "him." "He still talks about you," she whispered conspiratorially, her words a deliberate jab. "If you just admitted your mistake, he' d take you back." Mistake? That singular word plunged me back into the nightmare of my own rehearsal dinner. I was there, in a beautiful white dress, standing before two hundred of Boston' s elite, when Ethan Hayes, my fiancé, produced a sheaf of printed messages. He publicly branded me a deceitful woman, twisting my most intimate expressions of grief for my beloved, deceased brother, Mark, into fabricated evidence of a secret lover. Chloe Vance, his ambitious colleague, had orchestrated the deception, and he, in his blind fury and pride, had cast me aside without a single question. My world disintegrated on that elegant ballroom floor, a public execution orchestrated by the man who had promised me forever. How could he have so easily devoured such a monstrous lie, so readily destroying me and the memory of my brother? The sheer unfairness and the profound pain of his betrayal had lingered for half a decade, a scar hidden beneath my newfound peace. Now, Ethan, hearing whispers of my quiet happiness, has tracked me across the country. He' s invaded my serene Portland life, demanding answers, accusing me of abandoning him. His audacious presence has rekindled a righteous anger I swore I' d never feel again. This time, I won' t just walk away; I will speak my truth, and he will finally hear the brutal reality of what he truly did./1/112911/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260528042240&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Genius Heiress: Reclaiming Her Stolen Life
For three years, I was a prisoner in my own body, forced to watch helplessly as a series of strangers steered my life into ruin. Then, the system tried to wipe my consciousness entirely to make room for a new host. The pain was blinding, like a steel spike driven through my skull, but I refused to break. I slammed a mental wall of pure spite against the code, forcing the system to retreat and bargain for its own survival. I woke up in a room littered with the debris of a pathetic party girl, my body smeared with cheap makeup and my life in tatters. My father, the patriarch, looked at me with nothing but cold disdain, ready to cut me off for the scandals I hadn't even committed. The people around me—my father, the school bullies, the arrogant Student Council President—all expected the same hysterical, vapid girl who would crumble at a single word. They had no idea that the real Scarlett was back, and I was holding a scalpel to their secrets. Why did they think they could treat me like a disposable toy? And what would happen when the cold-eyed strategist they underestimated started dismantling their empires piece by piece? I walked into the academy, stared down my tormentors, and made a bet that would either crown me as their master or force me to sign away my entire inheritance forever./1/103212/coverorgin.jpg?v=aca3416ce19903134b10736fdb744c91&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Choosing The Forgotten, Finding My King
For five years, I was blindly devoted to my fiancé, Austen Griffin. My family's power was the only reason he was about to be named heir to the entire Griffin fortune. But on the night of the announcement, he arrived late with my sister, Dennie, a fresh hickey on his neck. He cornered me, demanding a prenuptial agreement. "No shared accounts. No shared bedroom. And no questions about my life," he whispered. "You get the name, I get my freedom." In my past life, their public betrayal broke me. He used my love to secure his power, then cast me aside, leaving me to die alone while he and my sister enjoyed the fortune I handed them. But when I opened my eyes, I was back at the gala, moments before the decision. This time, when the family patriarch asked me to name my choice, I looked past Austen' s triumphant smirk and smiled. "I choose Kolton Griffin," I announced, my voice clear and cold, selecting the crippled, forgotten cousin he despised most./1/108218/coverorgin.jpg?v=f8d28505371d35b1db7fdc8d2ab59f29&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn Heiress: The CEO's Revenge Bride
I lay in the hospital bed, every breath feeling like I was inhaling wet concrete. My husband, Trent, stood by the window, more interested in his reflection in the glass than his dying wife. My sister, Cristi, sat nearby, complaining about how the rain would ruin her expensive shoes on the way to the car. Trent walked to my bedside and brushed a finger against my oxygen tube. "The liver failure is aggressive," he whispered. "But we expected that, didn't we? After all those 'vitamins' you've been taking." I tried to scream, but my vocal cords were paralyzed. Cristi just giggled, telling me not to struggle because they needed my trust fund voting power by midnight. They held up a Do Not Resuscitate order and told me my hand had "signed" it with a little help. "You were a depreciating asset, Cleora," Trent said, his lips cold against my forehead. "Now, you're finally liquidated." As the darkness swallowed me, I saw flashes of my life—my mother’s suspicious car crash, my stolen sketchbooks, and the bitter almond taste in my morning juice. I died in a state of pure, helpless rage, realizing I had been murdered by the only people I ever loved. How could they be so heartless? How could I have been so blind to the monsters living in my own home? Then came the sensation of falling. I sat up with a gasp, my lungs burning with fresh, salty air. The hospital was gone. I was in a luxury stateroom on our family’s charity cruise, three years before my death. I was alive, healthy, and back at the beginning. When a blood-stained billionaire named Clemente Pennington walked out of the suite's bathroom, I didn't run. I looked him in the eye and realized that this time, I wouldn't be the one liquidated. I was going to make them pay for every drop of poison they ever fed me./0/74897/coverorgin.jpg?v=8dccb8b50988d83e949ec50fd8897801&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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The Wife Who Never Loved
For two years, my husband Hunter flaunted his affair, using his mistress's fake pregnancy to torture me. I endured it all for our daughter, trapped in a gilded cage where he expected me to mistake his strangling for passion. Then his mistress whispered cruel lies to my six-year-old, telling her that her daddy would abandon her for the new baby. My daughter vanished. While I searched frantically, Hunter was unreachable, still with her. When he finally appeared, he shielded his mistress from my desperate rage, his wedding ring glinting as he pushed me away. With our daughter still missing, he pleaded with me. "Krystal, she's pregnant, don't hurt her!" The years of suppressed anger finally exploded. After our daughter was found safe, I looked him dead in the eye and told him the truth he'd been desperate to avoid. "I want a divorce, Hunter. I never loved you. I hate you."/0/85222/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106205815&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Past's Unwanted Return
The pregnancy test lay on our bathroom counter, two aggressive pink lines screaming a judgment. Seven years ago, I had a vasectomy-a choice Sarah and I made together, cementing our child-free life. But now, she stood beside me, eyes wide with an unnerving excitement, claiming this was a "miracle," a fulfillment of some bizarre "destiny card" from a tarot reader. My gut screamed impossible, yet her practiced smile, laced with an unsettling desperation, cornered me. I played along, a silent actor in her twisted play, watching her cling to this absurd narrative. My parents, then hers, were swept into the delusion, celebrating a grandchild I knew couldn't be mine. The deeper I sank into the charade, the more frantic her desperate whispers to her "mom" grew, texts angled away. Why was she so desperate, so secretive? What terror drove her to this elaborate lie? The truth was a chilling void, a gnawing suspicion that threatened to swallow me whole. Then, a hushed phone call from the next room. "No, Mark, you can't just show up here. Ethan is home." My wife's voice, intimate. Familiar. And then, the cruel, mocking laugh: "He actually believes that stupid story about the destiny card. He' s so easy to manage. Loyal like a puppy." My sanity shattered. This wasn't a miracle; it was a cold, calculated betrayal. This was her high school sweetheart, Mark, and their secret life-including "the last two times" and "another abortion." I would make her play out her perfect scene at her parents' anniversary party, then tear it all down./0/50493/coverorgin.jpg?v=20250117163052&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Baby's Daddy Is An Ex-convict
In the fiery aftermath of his past, Severin Feuillet emerged from the depths of confinement, his spirit ablaze with newfound zest for life. Thrown into the chaos of freedom, he found himself tangled in a web of passion and deceit, where the line between love and longing blurred with every heartbeat. Haunted by a lost love, Severin sought comfort in the arms of a woman whose betrayal cut deeper than any prison bars. Yet amidst the ruins of his shattered dreams, a glimmer of hope emerged-an enigmatic beauty, harboring a secret so profound it would unravel his very existence. As destiny weaved its intricate pattern, Severin embarked on a journey of redemption and revelation, navigating the perilous path of desire and despair. With each step, he delved deeper into the labyrinth of his own desires, wrestling with demons that threatened to consume him. But amid the chaos of his turbulent journey, a beacon of light emerged-a love so pure, so intoxicating, it defied all logic. United by fate and driven by an unyielding passion, Severin and his mysterious companion embarked on a whirlwind romance, their hearts entwined in a dance of ecstasy and yearning. In this captivating tale of love and redemption, Severin's quest for absolution takes him to the edge of madness and back again, as he confronts the shadows of his past and embraces the promise of a future filled with endless possibilities. With prose as vivid as it is compelling, this enchanting story will captivate readers from start to finish, leaving them longing for more./1/115258/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260528150517&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn Heiress: Divorcing The Ruthless Billionaire
Alondra spent three hours making soup for her husband, only to find him at the hospital tenderly holding another woman's hand. "I'm four weeks pregnant, Gerard," the woman said softly. Gerard coldly handed Alondra a divorce agreement, claiming their three-year marriage was just a placeholder because this woman had once saved his life. Heartbroken, Alondra fled in her car, only to realize her brakes had been completely disabled. She spun out of control and crashed head-on into a massive delivery truck. As she lay trapped in the mangled wreckage with her ribs crushed and blood filling her mouth, Gerard's black Maybach pulled up to the curb. He stared at her dying body through the window with a completely blank expression. He didn't call an ambulance or even open his door. He simply rolled up his tinted window and drove away into the rain. A raw, suffocating hatred burned in her chest, hotter than the pain in her shattered bones. She couldn't understand how the man she had loved and served so devotedly could just coldly watch her die like a piece of trash. Opening her eyes again, Alondra gasped for air. She had returned to the exact morning two years ago, right before she was supposed to deliver that pathetic soup. When Gerard walked in and threatened her with divorce, she didn't cry or beg. "I agree. Let's divorce," she said calmly, packing her bags to reclaim her true identity as a billionaire heiress./1/106654/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260716193157&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Sold To The Monster: My Silent Nightmare
I’ve spent eighteen hundred days as a silent ghost in the Crawford estate, a place where the air smells of expensive cigars and terror. My father, Senator Jed Bowen, sold me to Alek Crawford to pay off his gambling debts, trading his daughter’s life for a seat in the Senate. Alek doesn’t just want my service; he wants my complete submission. He tracks my every move through cameras and bruises my skin just to see if I’ll flinch. He thinks he owns me because he holds the contract, and his mother ensures I’m kept in my place with slaps and insults. When a scandal involving my half-sister and Alek’s brother hit the news, the house turned into a war zone. Alek cornered me in the dark, his hands stained with blood and ink, whispering that I was nothing but a receipt for his family's money. He’s been forcing me to take pills for years, believing they’ve kept me drugged and mute. "She needs to speak again," he told a surgeon over the phone. "Whatever it takes." He thinks he’s fixing a broken toy, but he’s actually planning to carve the silence into my throat permanently. He has no idea that I’ve been switching those pills for years, or that I’m more awake and more dangerous than he could ever imagine. I’ve endured the biting cold and the crushing weight of his obsession, waiting for a single sign that my nightmare could end. Tonight, a secret message reached me in the rain, confirming that the only man I ever loved has finally finished his mission. Kole is coming back for me. The contract review is tomorrow, but I’m not planning on signing anything. I’m planning on taking back everything they stole from me, starting with my voice./0/73333/coverorgin.jpg?v=20250731001713&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Cupid In Disguise: Winning My Baby Twin's Mommy Back
A fierce fire once devoured Kiera's affection for Colton. Five years later, she stormed back, vowing to reclaim her dignity. Unbeknownst to her, her mischievous son had an even sharper sense of vengeance. With wide-eyed innocence, the little one approached Colton. “Sir, could you help me, please?” he asked sweetly, only to pull a cunning prank. On another day, Colton found his room occupied. “Hey, kid, this is my space,” he said. With a pout, the little one replied, “But I want to sleep with Mommy.” Desperate to win Kiera's heart again, Colton soon realized his fiercest rival wore tiny shoes. /1/115571/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260512181047&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Ghost Wife's Silent Escape
For three years, I was the ghost wife to tech billionaire Julian Petersen. I ran his empire from the shadows, securing the patents that were his foundation, while he publicly doted on his manipulative ex, Blair. On my 30th birthday, he forgot me entirely, choosing instead to solve another one of Blair's manufactured crises. That was the final straw. I tricked him into signing our divorce papers, hidden within a stack of routine acquisitions he never bothered to read. He signed away our future without a second glance, his mind already on her, leaving me to eat my birthday cake alone. When he finally saw Blair's true, venomous nature, his obsession didn't end-it just shifted to me. He hunted me down across the globe, offering billions not as an apology, but as a new set of golden chains. He thought he could buy me back after everything he'd done. He cornered me in my new life, his presence a suffocating shadow. His voice was a low command, "Get in the car, Arlene. We're going to talk." "And you will listen."/0/78339/coverorgin.jpg?v=20250807001756&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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