Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Where We Belong
How does it feel to be accepted by your mate despite being an Omega? Accepted and yet he needs to marry someone else while you are secretly pregnant? Pregnant when you're a boy? Would you tell your mate despite having the consequences of your child being taken away? Or fool another Alpha and let him believe that child was his?/0/97626/coverorgin.jpg?v=e2d3aaba525ccf8269907e11029d8beb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Dominant CEO
Book 1: When a temporary job opened up, Jenna, still inexperienced in the workforce, didn't hesitate—she went straight for it. At first, everything looked like a dream come true. Then, out of nowhere, the rules changed. "Tomorrow, you'll wear lilac underwear!" The instruction was as weird as it sounded, a tiny detail that promised nothing about this stint would be normal. Micheal turned heads wherever he went, but there was more to this CEO than just good looks. He carried a secret that would turn Jenna's world upside down. Book 2: Apollo's life suddenly flipped around after his wife double-crossed him right at his big brother's wedding. Just like that, he found himself a single dad, raising six-year-old Ares. Now, Apollo knew one thing for sure: his son needed a mother. Erin Dixon checked every box—except for her ex-husband, who could give "problematic" a run for its money. Meanwhile, Milo Lancaster—Adonis's close friend—had his own storm brewing. His family kept pushing him to settle down and produce an heir. "Marriage and kids, Milo!" But he wanted none of it! An arranged marriage seemed like the easy way out, at least on paper. Except things got complicated the second he actually started caring about Claudine. Who knew a family tradition could turn into something so unpredictable? Book 3: Gustav never expected those old feelings to rush back when he saw Madilyn again after so many years. The spark was still there—too bad she shut him down right away. "I'm with someone else." But had she truly moved on? Or was there still hope for something to grow between them?/0/60394/coverorgin.jpg?v=3aadb996df74c44e216bd6c5640a02c2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Escape From Love's Dark Clutches
Heather's ex-boyfriend, Jeremy, who had vanished two years earlier, was surprisingly revealed to be the uncle of her current partner. In public, Jeremy projected a cold and arrogant demeanor, yet he harbored an obsessive and near-maddening fixation on Heather. In her desperation to escape Jeremy's dominating influence, Heather turned to Nathan, whom she perceived as a kind-hearted businessman. However, she was unaware of Nathan's true nature. He, too, had sinister intentions and, like Jeremy, aimed to exploit her. Trapped in a dangerous love triangle, Heather found herself unable to escape./0/86519/coverorgin.jpg?v=6c1c778aab3d86b23bfb1c9a834181ea&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Second Life, True Love
The official notification arrived on a Monday morning: Chloe Davis, my son David's fiancée, was confirmed dead in a car accident. I dropped the document in the trash without a change in expression, because I already knew. I had lived this life once before. And in that life, I had died. In my first life, Chloe's death destroyed David. My adopted son, Mark, along with Chloe's sisters, Olivia and Sophia, exploited his grief with ruthless precision. They drugged him, siphoned off his inheritance, and bled my company dry. When I finally saw the truth, it was too late. I confronted them, but they came for me that night. Mark, the boy I raised, ended my life with a tire iron. Then, darkness. And then, light. I woke up three months before my own murder, given a second chance. The doting father was dead, replaced by a man forged in betrayal. This time, I wouldn't just protect my son; I would dismantle their schemes piece by piece. When Chloe's fake death notice arrived, I felt only cold resolve. The game had just begun. And this time, I knew all the rules./0/86832/coverorgin.jpg?v=c6a4938ac3f335e916c0e1138d997e9f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Wife He Sacrificed
Five times, I had felt the flutter of life inside me, only to have it stolen away. Five times, I bled and cried. This sixth time, pregnant again, I held the secret tight, terrified Emily would find a way to blow it out. Then, the storm hit: Emily was sick, leukemia, and I was the only perfect bone marrow match. David, my husband, the man who' d seen me through five losses, told me it was just "a collection of cells" and forced me to terminate our baby. He had it all planned out: my body, my child, my future, all sacrificed for Emily. He called it a "medical necessity," even as he destroyed the one locket I kept, a memento for our lost daughter, because Emily "needed symbols of hope." I laid on my hospital bed, having survived severe anaphylaxis after he forced me to consume shellfish I was deathly allergic to, a soup Emily had deliberately requested. I realized he had tried to kill me, for her. The man I married, who promised to protect me, had systematically dismantled me. He saw my pain as an inconvenience, my children as obstacles. I was trapped, isolated, with nowhere to go. But in that moment of absolute devastation, a cold, hard certainty was born. While he was planning how to use my body to save his sister, I was planning my escape. Olivia Clark was gone for good, and Ava Miller was about to be reborn./1/103258/coverorgin.jpg?v=7c7c68f75774e4bbe892e393254b2584&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Ex-Fiancé Stole My Dreams
For ten years, I was the indispensable right hand and fiancée to star architect Declan Sharp. I poured my life into his career, sacrificing my own ambitions for us. Our wedding was just weeks away. But my world shattered when I saw him with the new intern, Kisha. He was showing her my design, the one he called "competent," and proudly saying, "This is Kisha's idea." It got worse. He stole my groundbreaking research paper for her, then publicly dismissed me as a mere "drafting assistant." My own family attacked me, furious I had lost their meal ticket. I was just a tool. A convenient machine he used to build his empire. He never loved me; he loved what I did for him. So when he tried to kiss me to shut me up, I slapped him. I deleted every file, every blueprint, every trace of my work from his life. Then I blocked his number and bought a one-way ticket to Detroit. This time, I was building a life for myself./0/25196/coverorgin.jpg?v=138b018325308ed81068b9373f078349&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Don’t Tease Me, Boss
At a birthday party, Mary Miller was drugged by her cousin and forced to have a sex with a jerk. At this critical moment, a noble and handsome man appeared and saved her. Under the effect of drug, Mary lost her mind and threw herself at the man crazily. After the night, she thought they would never meet each other, but it turned out this man was.../1/103571/coverorgin.jpg?v=80a8c87c42dc4543cc2822de0a3db7c5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Broken Bond, Their Unending Pain
After our parents died, my brothers were my protectors. That ended the day they brought home Faye, a fourteen-year-old orphan they treated like a fragile doll, while I became part of the furniture. They gave her my vintage saxophone, my promised trip to Paris, and dismissed my symphony-my life' s work-as "noise." The final betrayal happened in the library. Faye deliberately tore my master score to shreds. When I tried to stop her, she faked an injury, and my brothers took her side without hesitation. "You are a jealous, manipulative child," Clinton spat, before burning the rest of my symphony in front of my eyes. They told me to get out of their lives. So I did. I accepted a ten-year isolated fellowship and vanished. Now, I've returned as a world-renowned composer whose work saved millions. When my brothers, broken by regret, finally found me and begged me to come home, I gave them a calm, professional smile. "I'm sorry," I said. "Do I know you?"/0/87458/coverorgin.jpg?v=606cdaa79fc046519d42ecfa93ef97fa&imageMogr2/format/webp)
When Love Dies, Revenge Blooms
My husband accused me of putting his assistant in the hospital. He claimed the AC I turned on, despite her protests, caused her to collapse from severe cramps. I was eight months pregnant and the office was dangerously hot, but he still blamed me. To "make it up to me," he invited me to a party at an exclusive club. I woke up on the floor of a glass-walled freezer. Outside, my husband, Austen, stood with his arm wrapped around a perfectly healthy Deb. He raised a glass to the city’s elite, toasting to “cooling down” his hot-headed wife. They watched as his men stripped me to my underwear and forced my bare knees onto a floor of ice. They poured buckets of freezing water over my head and my pregnant belly until I felt a warm trickle between my legs. I was bleeding. I was losing our baby. While I lay there, Austen pounded on the glass, screaming at me to apologize, to tell him I forgave him so he wouldn't have to be the monster. He sneered that I was all alone, that my father was dead and no one was coming to save me./1/102476/coverorgin.jpg?v=90f2745fb3ef40b70840f7bb971cf1ac&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Done Being A Shadow: The Wife's Escape
On the day I finally pried open the locked drawer in Marcus’s study, I didn't find a surprise anniversary gift. I found a shrine to my father's business partner, Izzy. Photos of a woman who looked exactly like me stared back. That was when I realized my marriage was nothing more than an expensive lie. I wasn't his wife; I was a customized substitute for the woman he couldn't have. The nightmare worsened when scalding soup was spilled at a restaurant. Marcus didn't hesitate. He threw his body over Izzy to shield her, leaving me to take the full force of the burns. Later, while I lay in the hospital bandaged and in agony, he didn't come to comfort me. He came to demand I donate a kidney to save Izzy. "If we both needed a kidney, who would you choose?" I asked him, desperate for a lie. "Izzy," he said instantly. "She has so much more to do." He didn't know I was pregnant. He didn't know that while he was begging me to save his mistress, the stress was killing his unborn child. I wiped my tears and laughed. "Okay," I said. I signed the divorce papers and left them on his desk. On top of them, I placed a medical report dated that morning: *Spontaneous Abortion.* Then, I boarded a one-way flight to Montana and vanished, leaving him to wake up to a world where he had saved his mistress but killed his family./1/107482/coverorgin.jpg?v=1f32b8965eaee174b14e07885f5f683e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Ghost Heiress: Rising From Shadows
I had served as the private medical counsel for the Huff family for five years, keeping their scandals buried and their blood pumping. But at the Cipriani gala, standing under a storm of camera flashes, I realized I was just a smudge of ink on their golden canvas. My twenty-year-old niece, Ainsley, looked me up and down with a sneer and pointed at my throat. She demanded I hand over the emerald pendant—the only thing my grandmother left me—because it would "pop" better against the gold gown of her father’s new media darling, Harlow. I turned to Grafton, the man whose neurodegenerative condition I had personally managed in secret, waiting for him to act like a human being. He didn't even blink. He just leaned in and hissed, "Give it to her, Katharina. Don't make a scene. Fix this." After I handed over the necklace and walked out, the retaliation was instant. Within ten minutes, my credit cards were declined, my biometric access was revoked, and the concierge I had tipped for a decade blocked me from entering my own home. Grafton told me I’d be destitute and starving within a week. They all thought I was a family charity case, a leech clinging to the Huff name for prestige. They had no idea that I had spent years quietly securing the intellectual property rights to their most profitable drugs under my maiden name. They didn't know that I was "The Broker," an underground medical legend with a bank account that dwarfed their trust funds. I watched from the shadows as Grafton’s health began to crumble without my specialized injections and their stock price went into a tailspin. They thought they could erase me, but you can't delete the person who holds the structural integrity of your life together. When the panicked calls finally started coming, I didn't answer. I wasn't interested in a settlement or an apology anymore. I was busy using my offshore funds to buy up their crashing shares, ready to take back the empire they thought they had kicked me out of./1/117494/coverorgin.jpg?v=06da02d767b39bdf69327081c75abb81&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Dangerous Contract With My Ex
After three years of swallowing humiliation to pay off massive debts, Azura finally got her law license reinstated. She thought she could rebuild her life after her family's scandalous downfall. But on her first day back, her trusted mentor betrayed her. He signed an ironclad contract that forced her to work for her ruthless ex-husband, Killian Sinclair—the very man who had orchestrated her father's arrest and coldly discarded her. Killian trapped her with a twenty-million-dollar penalty, forcing her back under his control just to humiliate her. When she started secretly compiling evidence to appeal her father's case, an arsonist set her apartment on fire. Trapped in the inferno, she was carried out by a mysterious stranger. Waking up in a VIP hospital suite, she thought she had narrowly escaped death. But when a false cardiac arrest alarm went off for her room, a man burst through her door in pure terror, his back bleeding from freshly torn burn wounds. It was Killian. Seeing she was unharmed, his panic instantly hardened into a mask of cold cruelty. "Good. You're not dead yet." Azura stared at his bleeding back in shock. Why would the monster who mercilessly destroyed her family risk his own life in the flames to save hers? Realizing there were deeper secrets hidden beneath his hatred, Azura stopped running. She accepted his case, determined to use his money, his name, and his power to uncover the real truth behind her family's ruin./0/85894/coverorgin.jpg?v=581b627d6b8092752d79c15f9349de24&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn Wife: A Mother's Fury
The last thing I remembered was the cold, sterile operating room. A sharp pain tore through my abdomen, and my husband Ethan's chilling indifference burned into me. "Sign it, Ethan! The doctor says she's bleeding out. They need to perform the surgery to save her!" I screamed, my voice distant and desperate. But he wouldn't. He stood there, arms crossed, saying, "The doctor said there's a risk to the baby. I can't risk my daughter's life." "There won't be a daughter if I die!" I countered, agony blurring my vision. "The baby can't survive if I don't!" Then, my six-year-old stepson, Liam, holding Ethan's hand, pointed at me. "Dad, Sophia said this woman is just faking it. She said if she dies, Sophia can be my new mom and take care of you and the baby." His words hit harder than any physical pain. My own stepson, a child I'd raised since he was two, was wishing for my death. Ethan didn't scold him. He squeezed Liam' s shoulder in silent agreement as Sophia Davis, Liam's beautiful young tutor, stepped into view with a triumphant smirk. They never signed the papers. I bled out on that operating table, my last sight the three of them-Ethan, Liam, and Sophia-already looking like a happy family. A sharp gasp snapped me awake. My eyes flew open. I was in my own bed, morning sun streaming through the silk curtains. My hand went to my stomach. It was still there, a gentle, rounded swell. My baby girl was safe. I grabbed my phone. The date confirmed it: today was the day my life unraveled. The day Liam brought Sophia home. I hadn't died. I was back. The memory of my death wasn't a dream. It was a searing brand, a horrifying premonition. The betrayal, the pain, the cold finality-all of it clear as day. A wave of nausea washed over me, not from pregnancy, but from cold, hard fury. They would not kill me this time. They would not harm my daughter. This time, I would make them pay for a crime they hadn't committed yet. Just then, the doorbell rang. I heard the housekeeper, then Liam's excited chatter. My heart turned to ice. It was starting./0/98409/coverorgin.jpg?v=b9fdd388cffcaa17116539711ef45fa4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Out Of Her Ex-Husband's Shadow, Into The Tycoon's Embrace
For three years, Hailey loved Kieran. Yet the wildlife photos she risked everything to take ended up helping another woman win a major competition. Hurt and finished with waiting, Hailey left him, filing for divorce and vowing to prove herself on her own. She never expected her ex-husband's most powerful rival to offer his support. "I admire real talent. Applause belongs to the deserving," he said. Though Hailey tried to keep her distance, he pursued her with unwavering determination "This isn't just a whim. I've had my eye on you for a long time."/0/63680/coverorgin.jpg?v=047391e442253184788da311b5ce9130&imageMogr2/format/webp)
One Night, Endless Secrets: Forbidden Love With My Aloof Brother
To outsiders, Aileen was the adopted daughter of the Jefferson family, dismissed and scorned by all. Yet, in the underground racing world, she thrived as the dark rose, savoring the thrill and speed of night races. But her life took a new turn when Derek returned home, leading to a passionate night that diverted Aileen from the Jefferson family's path. Derek, the ruthless heir to the Jefferson legacy, tactfully steered the family's ambitions. Despite his control, he found himself captivated by Aileen-his adopted sister, business partner, and an exceptional racer-drawn to her enigmatic allure./0/84017/coverorgin.jpg?v=b4b7fa084d20354fc8f4d4baf6bc286b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Vipers We Loved
My name is Jennifer Johns, and for twenty years, I poured my life, my love, and every dollar into raising my best friend' s children as my own. I did it because their mother, Sabrina, supposedly died of cancer, and her last wish was for me to protect them. Then, my adoptive daughter, Molly, stood before a judge and accused my husband, Andrew, of sexually abusing her for years. Andrew was convicted and died in prison. My adoptive son, Caleb, had me committed to a psychiatric facility, where I died, utterly broken and alone. Shortly after, the ghost of my best friend, Sabrina, walked onto a national talk show, alive and well, pointing at the camera and screaming, "I trusted you! And you let your sick husband use them!" My heart shattered, my reputation ruined, and my life extinguished by the very people I sacrificed everything for. How could I have been so blind, so foolish? The betrayal tore me apart, the injustice a gaping wound that never healed. Until I wasn't dead. I jolted awake with a gasp in my own bed, the phantom touch of restraints still clinging to my wrists. Andrew was next to me, his eyes mirroring the horror in mine. And then, the doorbell rang. Sabrina was here, alive, poised to reel me in with her same cruel lie – but this time, Andrew and I remembered everything. This time, we were ready to fight back. This time, we would write our own ending./0/49288/coverorgin.jpg?v=e5b35f98cd12289592dfe1fadfbacf67&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Deceptive Marriage: Who Are You, Hubby?
How would you feel if you were married to a stranger? Xenia was tricked by her future mother-in-law into marrying her fiance's wheelchair-bound and sickly uncle. She thought her life was going to be a living hell after marriage, but she was in for a big surprise. Her husband bought her a house and a land, and even showered her with all the love. Life was good. The only downside was that her husband, Vince always coughed as if he was going to die any minute. One day, Xenia stumbled on the secret of her husband, who turned out to have been keeping an eye on her for ages. She sneered, "Aren't you chronically ill?" "I'm better now. Thanks to your good care," Vince responded. "Weren't you crippled?" At this question, Vince broke out in a cold sweat. "Well, I didn't want our child to be mocked, so I got the best doctor to treat my legs." Xenia was big mad. She shouted, "Who are you? What else have you been hiding from me?" With a thud, Vince went down on his knees and said, "Darling, don't raise your voice. Shouting angrily could harm the baby. Just hit me as many times as you want." Vince's behavior shocked everyone who knew him. The ruthless man, who never apologized to anyone, was kneeling down for a woman! Why?/0/80732/coverorgin.jpg?v=df5b513fafbeffc1b73ed681fc74006a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
When Love Becomes Torture
My decorated PMC team leader wife, Sarah, asked the impossible: be a live target for her protégé Dylan's shooting qualification. I agreed, suppressing my own combat medic skills and hidden past as my CIA father’s son, all for her, trusting she’d ensure safety with “non-lethal” rounds. The instant the first bullet tore into my thigh, searing pain exploding through me, I knew Dylan had swapped live ammunition. As he systematically shot me, shattering my hand and destroying my fertility, Sarah stood by, dismissing my screams as “dramatic” and her “savior” Dylan’s cruel acts as mere training. She tightened my restraints, praised his accuracy, and accused my loyal teammate Maria of jealousy and faking when she tried to intervene, even after Dylan shot Maria too. How could the woman I’d secretly saved, the hero firefighter who once rescued my sister and me, be so utterly blind and complicit in my torture, believing every poisonous lie from her manipulative golden boy? Only when my sister Emily burst in, interrupting Dylan’s final kill shot, and security footage exposed his monstrous deception, did Sarah's delusion shatter. But by then, I was already rebuilt, untethered from her, ready to finally choose myself. I donated every cent Sarah left, facing her ultimate end with a profound, unburdened peace./0/83235/coverorgin.jpg?v=371e975cce5d603bfd62ccb9461dc7c2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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