Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Changed.
Kaitlyn wakes up one day in abolute, searing pain. Her friend refuses to leave her alone and a stranger comes knocking at her door talking crazy about moon phases and knowing strange things about her that even she wasn't aware of. Will she go insane or learn to trust new people? She needs to know how to juggle who she has to leave behind and which people she can't; maybe even learning how to love on the way./0/81359/coverorgin.jpg?v=b342992dc7ad920ff1e483ae2239fa37&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Double Life Exposed
The school admissions office. A new chapter for my son, Leo, a fresh start we hoped for. Then the woman at the desk dropped a bombshell, her voice flat. "Staff Sergeant Mark Johnson already has a child enrolled here." Mark Johnson was my husband, Leo' s father. "His son, Ethan Johnson," she continued, "and his wife, Jessica Johnson, is the emergency contact." Wife? Jessica? The names echoed, cold and sharp, triggering a horrifying flashback. In another life, this exact scenario had already unfolded, leading to an abyss of deceit and despair. I remembered Mark' s smooth lies, his flimsy tales of helping a "hero's widow," forcing Leo to be a whispered secret. Then came the unspeakable: Leo, my sensitive son, vanished from a bus stop. The frantic calls, the police reports, the agonizing silence. Weeks later, a horrifying news item: a child found, badly hurt, "two fingers missing." I never knew if it was Leo. The torturous uncertainty, Mark' s chilling indifference, his brutal concern for his "reputation" over my grief. And finally, the river-cold, dark, an attempted escape from the pain. Now, here I was again, back at the exact start of that soul-crushing nightmare. The same casual dismissal, the same insidious destruction of my life, my son' s future, unfolding again. But then, a surge of icy fury consumed me, hardening my resolve into something unbreakable. This wasn' t a rerun of despair; it was a second chance. This time, there would be no crumbling, no quiet suffering, no drowning. Mark Johnson was going to pay. And I would make sure everyone heard the truth, loud and clear./1/102478/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106222405&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Just A Substitute: The Wife He Failed
At the family dinner, the waiter stumbled, sending a tray of boiling onion soup flying toward the table. My husband, Marcus, moved instantly. But not for me. He threw his body over my cousin Chloe, shielding her completely in his arms. I was left exposed. The scalding liquid hit my chest and arm, burning my skin instantly. While I screamed in agony on the floor, Marcus was frantically checking Chloe for scratches, whispering, "Thank God it missed you. You are more important than her. Always." In the hospital, he handed me a check for fifty thousand dollars. "It was an instinct," he said, avoiding my eyes. "Don't make a scene." He didn't notice my hollow expression. He didn't ask why the doctors were looking at him with pity. And he certainly didn't know that the shock and trauma had caused me to miscarry our six-week-old baby. For four years, I had been his perfect doll. I dressed like Chloe, painted like Chloe, and waited for him to love me. I thought I was his wife. I didn't realize I was just a placeholder until he sacrificed our child to save his true love from a splash of soup. When he left to comfort Chloe again, I pulled the IV from my arm. I placed the signed divorce papers on the bedside table. Underneath them, I left the medical report confirming the miscarriage of his child. Then, I vanished./0/49133/coverorgin.jpg?v=20251020163522&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Addicted To My Two-faced Wife
Julien thought he was getting married to a fragile woman who would need his protection for as long as they were together. Much to his surprise, Kelsey turned out to be the direct opposite of what he thought she was. Kelsey became as tough as a tiger. Time and time again, it was reported that she got into fights. "Sir, your wife beat up your friend's brother." "Get her some medicine to reduce the swelling on her hands," Julien ordered helplessly. "Sir, your wife beat up your cousin." "If he's still alive, send him to the hospital." "Sir..." Unable to take it anymore, Julien asked, "What? Who did she beat up this time?" "Sir, she didn't beat anyone. Actually... she ran away with your child." Julien pounded the table and ordered, "Bring her back right now. I don't care whatever it takes!" Although Julien was tired of all the fights, he didn't know why he couldn't let her go. Like a drug, he was addicted. Would this addiction do him any good?/0/70252/coverorgin.jpg?v=f19edd236badcc00e103bab63c2fcbe2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
I Wait For You, My Love
Natalie used to think she could melt Connor’s icy heart, but she was sorely mistaken. When at last she decided to leave, she discovered that she was pregnant. Even so, she chose to quietly leave his world, prompting Connor to mobilize all of his resources and expand his business to a global scale—all in a bid to find her. But there was no trace of Natalie. Connor slowly spiraled into madness, turning the city upside down and leaving chaos in his wake. Natalie finally surfaced years later, with wealth and power of her own, only to find herself entangled with Connor once again./1/121407/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260623144351&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Divorced Wife's Secret Triplet Heirs
For three years, Ellie Mills endured a loveless contract marriage and her mother-in-law's daily torment, all to pay for her sick mother's medical bills. But the moment her billionaire husband's first love returned, he coldly threw a divorce agreement on her vanity table. "This transaction is over." Ellie was cast out like disposable garbage. She signed the papers, left a one-dollar bill on the bed as a mocking tip for his services, and walked away. Soon after, she discovered she was pregnant with triplets. But during a difficult premature delivery in a foreign country, the doctor tragically informed her that her youngest son had died. The loss of her baby became a permanent, agonizing scar. She couldn't understand why fate was so cruel, taking her child away while the man who ruined her life prepared for his grand wedding. For six years, she transformed into a top Parisian designer, vowing never to return to the city that held her deepest grief. That was until her genius six-year-old twins secretly booked them a flight back to Miami. In a hotel hallway, Ellie suddenly bumped into a crying, wealthy little boy who had the exact same face as her son. The child she mourned for six years wasn't dead, and her twins were already executing a master plan to make their jerk dad pay./0/83080/coverorgin.jpg?v=5d5431046d4383340a9de256be938e89&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Miller's True Heir
I was a ghost in my own home, the late Senator Miller's biological daughter, overshadowed by my adopted sister, Jessica. My stepfather, Governor Thompson, doted on her, giving her my mother's cherished suite, my fiancé, even the "Senator Miller Legacy Scholarship" that was always meant for me. Tonight, at the glittering gala, they finalized the blatant theft. As Jessica preened on stage, accepting my scholarship, a cold resolve solidified in my gut. I walked, not ran, straight to the podium, my worn dress a stark contrast to the opulent crowd. "That scholarship," I stated, my voice clear, "belongs to me." Jessica's perfect victim act launched instantly, tears streaming as she clung to my enraged stepfather. His face turned to stone. "This is not the time or place, Sarah!" he thundered, but I wouldn't move. "She's just jealous!" chorused Jessica's elite circle, labeling me "unhinged." Even Ethan Vance, my supposed future, looked at me with disdain, offering Jessica a supportive smile. Then, the unthinkable: my stepfather's open hand connected with my face, the crack echoing in the stunned silence. "You are no daughter of hers!" he spat, humiliating me. "Jessica is the only daughter I care to acknowledge!" My eyes burned, not from the sting of the slap, but from the searing, public injustice. How could the truth be so twisted, my very identity erased by the man who claimed to protect me? Was I truly going mad, or was this entire world? Just as Governor Thompson threatened to send me away to an institution, the grand ballroom doors burst open. There stood my Uncle Marcus, a decorated U.S. Army Four-Star General, his gaze piercing through the stunned crowd straight to me. My lifeline had arrived, and their carefully constructed lies were about to crumble./0/24729/coverorgin.jpg?v=20220417154545&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Assassin- No Can Melt My Icy Heart
“Please don’t kill me, I will give you whatever you demand for” the man am about to kill pleaded. . “OH! You sound nice, gentleman, I have been paid, and the thing is, I don’t collect money twice. And according to what you said, I NEED YOUR LIFE, nothing else, than your LIFE” I said repeatedly and smile sheepishly. And the word LIFE keeps echoing in my brain. “I don’t mean that, please spare my life” he pleaded crying and trembling. “OH! SORRY! It’s too late, maybe when you come back in your next life, I can help you eliminate the person that asked me to terminate your life” I said with a smiling face. “Please I promised to pay you handsomelly if you spare my life” the man said shaking., “Fuck that up man, am a very honest person and never betrayed my partner. But I will give you a chance to say your last prayer and if you don’t have anything to say. I have a message I want you to deliver to my mother and siblings, just help me tell them I missed them a lot. “RIP” I said and pull the trigger, which pump out his brain with blood splitting out all over the place. “Ouch! Did I just killed him?. Ohh MY HEART JUST MELT, but is not my fault am a good girl you know. “I said and look at the man lieing lifeless on the floor” I nod my head in pity “I need to get out of here, I said and jump through the window. I Know people will soon be here cause of the sound of the gun. I will have used my silent pistol but the person, who gave me the job, said, he want his dead to be announced as soon as possible, so I need to draw people attention. Meet Alice Heron nickname TERROR. A very beautiful and smart lady. She’s very cool or should I say dangerous. Did I just say cool. Maybe she’s cool and fun to be with, but you can never predict, she’s the most dangerous and wanted assassin. She’s a comedian not a famous one but a community comedian, she’s makes everyone smile, but when she was sent to an household she makes them cry bitterly. I think she’s cool and at the same time dangerous like I said. None of the people she worked for have ever seen her face, because she’s always on mask wherever she’s out for a mission. Meet Tyler Harry nickname SMART. A very smart and rich military guy. He was choose to figure out the assasin that has been disturbing people’s live. “What happened when a job was given to TERROR to kill SMART. The two smart people are on a mission of each other. Do you think she will succeed in killing him?. Do you think he will succeed in bringing her out to the world, has the most wanted assasin?. Do you also think they will fall in love? Grap your popcorn now and let’s go on a mission to watch the thrilling moment that’s about to be shown on our screen./0/27545/coverorgin.jpg?v=20220608194025&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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Married To The Comatose Tech Emperor
Gina was locked in Blackwood Asylum for five years, framed as a violent lunatic by her own wealthy family. Her brother suddenly dragged her out, but not to save her. He forced her into an arranged marriage with Kerr Brooks, the billionaire emperor of New York, just to save the Rollins family's failing company. Back at the estate, her parents treated her like a biohazard. They showered her adopted sister, Hailie, with love and luxury, while forcing Gina into a freezing servant's room. They threw a brutal prenuptial agreement at her face and threatened to leak a deepfake scandal video to the press if she didn't play the perfect bride. To ensure Gina's absolute ruin, Hailie even ordered a maid to spike her dinner with a massive dose of LSD. They were ruthlessly sacrificing her to a man who was secretly in a deep, unresponsive coma. "She is just a tool, Hailie. Do not waste your pity on a broken thing." Her mother's cold words echoed in the foyer. They looked at Gina's faded jumpsuit and vacant eyes, fully believing she was a heavily sedated pawn they could easily manipulate and discard. But they didn't know Gina was a master hacker, a lethal underground surgeon, and the secret owner of the world's top luxury brand. She neutralized the poison in seconds and slipped into her comatose fiancé's heavily guarded ICU. Disabling the secret neuro-suppressants keeping him asleep, Gina smiled in the dark. If they wanted her to marry a corpse, she would use his empire to bury them all alive./0/18159/coverorgin.jpg?v=9b32b878f0de95815ea0280a5df56e64&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Gang Leader's Girl
"Is this what you want Angel?" Axel panted, trailing his lips up my neck to my face. I shivered when I felt his lips start sucking at a spot on my neck. "Come on, tell me this is what you want Mia because I don't think I can keep myself away from you anymore." His voice was deep and laced with desire, his eyes searched mine for permission. I found myself nodding my head, letting him know this was what I wanted, his lips on mine. I nearly passed out when I felt his teeth pull at my bottom lip, gently biting down on it "Use your words Mia." Axel whispered. "I need to hear you say it." He groaned. "I want you to kiss me." ******* Mia Morrison was a girl that was believed to be made out of steel or at least that's what everyone thought. After her mothers death, seventeen year old Mia had been jumping from one foster home to another since she was seven. That was until Child Protection Services remove Mia from a drunk abusive couple, and shipped her halfway across the county, her life just might take a turn for the better. But sharing the same roof with nine other people can be stressful. It's even more stressful when five of them are boys. And it's pretty much unbearable when two of them develop feelings for you. But can Mia overcome her troubled past and allow herself to fall in love?/0/80421/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106193545&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Voiceless Victim's Vengeance
My life was a symphony, building to a crescendo with the "Tomorrow's Country Star" finale. I was Emily Carter, a singer-songwriter on the cusp of realizing my dreams, my heart entwined with Jake Myers, a music producer, and the creative force behind my most personal work, "Heartland Echoes." Then, in a shocking betrayal that ripped my world apart, Jake, along with his 'college sweetheart' Brittany Sloane, presented *my* masterpiece as hers on national television. The internet screamed "Plagiarist!" and "Fraud!" as my reputation crumbled to ashes. The public crucifixion that followed was a living nightmare; the shame coiled around me until I couldn't breathe. My parents, heartbroken and broken by the endless harassment directed at me, withered away, leaving me utterly alone before I, too, succumbed to the despair and the dark. From that desolate void, I was forced to watch my betrayers prosper. Jake and Brittany thrived, building their careers on the bones of my tragedy, even laughing about "Emily Who?" in the privacy of a hot mic. To be reduced to a meme, to die knowing they got away with it, to watch them celebrate their sordid triumph – the injustice was an acid in my soul, fueling a rage beyond measure. But fate, it seemed, wasn't done with me yet. One blinding moment, I was back, returned to the critical juncture before my public downfall, grasping a second chance, and armed with a terrible knowledge: a medical diagnosis that, in my previous life, had seemed a curse, but was now the key to my twisted opportunity. This time, I would sacrifice my voice for vengeance, and the narrative would be entirely mine./1/104043/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106223514&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Erased Memories, A Second Chance At Love
They found me days after the avalanche, a bloody canvas against the stark white snow. When my fiancé, Gabriel, finally arrived, I thought I was saved. But he wasn't there to rescue me; he was there to blame me. His mistress, Candace, clung to his arm with a tiny scratch while my leg was a mangled, frostbitten wreck. "What in God's name did you do?" he spat, his voice like ice. Back at the hospital, Candace and her therapist brother convinced him my injuries were minor. They secretly withheld my treatment, laughing at my silent agony while Gabriel accused me of faking it all for attention. He called off our engagement, reminding me I was just a burden he was forced to care for after my parents died saving his family. His disgust and her lies finally broke me. So I made a deal with a goddess. I threw myself from the hospital balcony, trading my love and all my memories of him for a new life. When I opened my eyes again, the man who had destroyed me was a complete stranger./1/114055/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260423190752&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Ninety-Nine Heartbreaks, One Final Goodbye
The ninety-ninth time Jax Little broke my heart was the last time. We were the golden couple of Northgate High, our future perfectly mapped out for UCLA. But in our senior year, he fell for a new girl, Catalina, and our love story became a sick, exhausting dance of his betrayals and my empty threats to leave. At a graduation party, Catalina "accidentally" pulled me into the pool with her. Jax dove in without a second's hesitation. He swam right past me as I struggled, wrapped his arms around Catalina, and pulled her to safety. As he helped her out to the cheers of his friends, he glanced back at me, my body shivering and my mascara running in black rivers. "Your life isn't my problem anymore," he said, his voice as cold as the water I was drowning in. That night, something inside me finally shattered. I went home, opened my laptop, and clicked the button that confirmed my admission. Not to UCLA with him, but to NYU, an entire country away./1/107954/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260206175100&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Married to the Coldest Media King
My father was the King of Wall Street until he was branded a fraud, turning the Maxwell name into a lead weight dragging me to the bottom of the Hudson. I walked into the Brennan Media Tower with blood-red lipstick and a desperate proposal, offering myself as a "paper wife" to Garland Brennan, the coldest billionaire in Manhattan. Garland didn’t even look at me as a human being; he tore my term sheet in half and called me "radioactive" before having security toss me out like trash. I returned to my rotting apartment in Bushwick only to find my roommate’s cousin, a debt collector named Jax, waiting to break my bones. He pinned me against the wall, his hand heavy on my throat as he sneered about selling me to a club to pay off my father's debts. With my ribs aching and my back against the radiator, I had to leak corporate secrets on Twitter just to summon Garland’s private mercenaries to stop a predator. The humiliation didn't stop there. At the Met Gala, the elite mocked my dress made of construction tarp, and my father’s creditors began harassing my senile grandmother in her nursing home. I was a cornered animal, and Garland Brennan was the only hunter offering a cage instead of a grave. I realized then that in this zip code, you are either the predator or the prey, and I was tired of being hunted. Garland offered me a marriage contract that demanded total submission—no equity, no voting rights, just an employee with a wedding ring. I signed the four-hundred-page document with a steady hand, but not before hiding a legal poison pill in the fine print. He thinks he bought a silent asset, but I just secured a front-row seat to his downfall./0/80734/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106193958&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Mike's Bet, Sarah's Win
The smell of burnt turkey still hung in the air, but the stench of ruin was far stronger. My husband Mike, the man who worked his hands raw, sat at our kitchen table, his head in his hands. Eighty thousand dollars. Vanished. Emily’s college fund, Mom’s arthritis surgery, next year’s mortgage on our Texas ranch house. Our entire future. He’d lost it all in a ‘friendly game’ of poker with his old buddy, Jake Riley. Mike was broken, promising double shifts, desperate to make it right. But it was too little, too late. I knew Jake. A leech, a con artist. Eighty grand in one night? This wasn’t just bad luck; it was a setup. They thought they’d taken my hardworking, trusting husband for a fool. They thought they’d won. The numbness faded, replaced by cold fury. A faint, almost invisible scar on my left wrist, a ghost from a past I’d buried in the neon glare of Las Vegas, began to throb. I smashed Emily’s ceramic unicorn, took her meager savings. ‘Get up, Mike,’ my voice cold, hard. ‘We’re going to pay Jake a visit.’ He was terrified. I just smiled, a bitter, dangerous smile. He had no idea who he’d married. And Jake Riley was about to meet the ‘Phantom Hand.’/1/101853/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106222016&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Ninth Goodbye: My Husband's Cruel Bet
On the night of our fifth anniversary, my husband left me standing on the shoulder of the Montauk Highway in a blinding thunderstorm. His red taillights didn't even hesitate as they faded into the rain. He abandoned me there because his ex-girlfriend, Isabelle, called to say she heard a scary noise in her basement. I stood in my soaked silk dress, shivering not from the cold, but from the realization that this was the ninth time. He had missed my gallbladder surgery to support her at a polo match. He had missed my grandmother’s funeral to fix her flat tire. But the truth was far crueler than simple neglect. Weeks later, after I survived a terrifying elevator accident that left me with a permanent limp, I overheard them talking at a gala. "The bet was for nine goodbyes, Marcus," Isabelle laughed, clutching his arm. "I bet you that I could make you leave her nine times before she finally snapped. And look at that. I won." My marriage wasn't a tragedy; it was a game. A wager between lovers who used my pain as a scoreboard. I didn't cry. I didn't make a scene. I went back to our penthouse, packed my sketchbooks, and vanished into the night without a word. Five years later, Marcus found me in a small coastal town in Maine. I was no longer the waiting wife. I was a celebrated sculptor, and I was holding the hand of a man who treated me like a treasure, not a toy. Marcus stormed into my studio, demanding I come home. My new husband stepped between us, calm and unyielding. "You're trespassing," he said. "I'm talking to my wife!" Marcus yelled. I finally turned around, looking at the man who had destroyed me, and smiled. "Ex-wife," I corrected softly. "And you're late. About five years too late."/1/103261/coverorgin.jpg?v=ccdf42afb07068b24d5e26dfa26ade4e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Day My World Shattered
On our fifth wedding anniversary, my three-year-old daughter Kenisha' s rare illness led to a shocking discovery. A DNA test revealed she wasn't my biological child. That same day, I overheard my husband, Corbin, confessing the truth to his mistress. They had swapped their baby for mine in the delivery room, declaring my real daughter dead-all part of a long con to steal my family's fortune. When I confronted him, they turned the tables. They framed me for killing Kenisha's pet rabbit in a fit of rage, had a corrupt doctor declare me mentally unstable, and imprisoned me in our penthouse under the guise of "treatment." My husband, the man I loved, had not only stolen my child but was now trying to steal my sanity and freedom, all while turning the daughter I raised against me. But they made one mistake. They thought I was broken. With my father's secret help, I escaped that gilded cage. Now, I'm going to find my real daughter, and I'm going to make him pay for every single lie./1/112178/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260615001638&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Bound To A Scarred Billionaire: Can Love Bloom From Ashes?
Carolina Navarro was married off to Maximo Castillo, a man ruined by a plane crash that left his face scarred and his heart sealed shut. Once charismatic and destined for everything, Maximo lost far more than his looks; he lost trust, tenderness, and the life he thought was his. Now he wanted only a wife and an heir. Carolina gave him vows under pressure, never expecting anything more than a loveless arrangement. But as their bitterness collided and their loneliness deepened, one question refused to fade. Could something real rise from the wreckage they both carried?/1/103574/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106223358&imageMogr2/format/webp)
