Young Adult Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
/0/44589/coverorgin.jpg?v=2b9dd41952ec23f448912dd89aa508d1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Unleashing Your Inner Confidence: A 10-Chapter Guide
In the book "Unleashing Your Inner Confidence " every chapter takes you on an exploration to unlock and strengthen your self-confidence. By engaging in activities relating to real life stories and receiving guidance you will successfully navigate the journey, from doubting yourself to being truly self-assured. This empowering guide equips you with the ability to embrace challenges cultivate a sense of self value and confidently navigate through life with bravery and certainty./0/39724/coverorgin.jpg?v=60f56caf55f37232d750007c64d50bb0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Overdramatic
"How many glasses did you drink? Your mouth smells really bad, you know?" Cakra asked with one hand covering his nose and mouth. His forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Rape me first, then I'll answer how much I drank," Inez replied incoherently. This made Cakra even more annoyed because the girl continued to discuss issues that were very sensitive to Cakra's ears. "I'm not asking!"/0/94233/coverorgin.jpg?v=c33ef6e266b71b0b1bcb52b3c3f481ce&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Fairytale Was A Cruel Lie
I was the scholarship kid at Westbrook University, dating the star quarterback, Gage Barton. Everyone on campus thought I was living a fairytale, the brilliant girl from the wrong side of the tracks who had captured the prince's heart. My roommate, Cayden, was my best friend, the one I trusted with all my secrets. But my fairytale was a lie. My prince was a cruel narcissist who saw me as his pet project, and my best friend was a snake who secretly slept with him, seething with jealousy over everything I had earned. Their betrayal culminated in an act of pure evil. Using my own laptop, Cayden permanently deleted my entire thesis-one hundred and twelve pages of research that represented my only ticket out of their world. My future was gone in a single click. When I confronted them, they laughed. "It's just a stupid paper," Gage sneered, accusing me of deleting it myself to save face. They stood together, a united front of privilege and cruelty, believing they had finally broken me. But they were wrong. I calmly walked over to Cayden's desk, where her own laptop was open, her final project displayed on the screen. Next to it sat a full glass of water. I picked it up and poured it directly onto the keyboard. The screen sparked, then went black. As she shrieked in horror, I repeated his words back to her, my voice cold as ice. "It's just a stupid project. Why are you making such a big drama out of it?"/0/32588/coverorgin.jpg?v=cafedad332189ab41b083664223cdc61&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Bully's Obsessive love
Hhuhg huuft ugiig Hhuhg huuft ugiig Hhuhg huuft ugiig Hhuhg huuft ugiig Hhuhg huuft ugiig Hhuhg huuft ugiig Hhuhg huuft ugiig Hhuhg huuft ugg Hhuhg huuft ugiig Hhuhg huuft ugiig Hhuhg huuft ugiig Hhuhg huuft ugiig Hhuhg huuft ugiig Hhuhg huuft ugiig Hhuhg huuft ugiig Hhuhg huuft ugg/0/7281/coverorgin.jpg?v=35b2877af75cafc5a3c886843f01e51b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/1441/coverorgin.jpg?v=937aaedf3a432b0f3d835f11aba8f32e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Caged Lion
Charlotte Mary Yonge(1823 - 1901) was an English novelist born into a religious family. Her first book was published in 1838, the revenues of which went toward the founding of a girls school. Yongewas a prolific author who wrote religious books, text books, novels, memoirs, and short stories. Her writings were influenced by her secluded upbringing and her intense love for her family. She is best known for her masterwork, The Heir of Redclyffe (1853)./0/86447/coverorgin.jpg?v=1211c709c85a73d98b0596469632e902&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Price of Family, The Cost of Love
The university acceptance letter, a full scholarship, felt like my ticket out of our forgotten town. I was Chloe Davis, and for eighteen years, I' d studied, dreamed of this escape. But when I showed it to my father, Robert, his eyes didn' t gleam with pride, but with a calculating hunger I knew too well. He announced a "celebration," but it was no party-it was a twisted auction. Middle-aged men, reeking of stale beer, assessed me like livestock, stuffing cash into my father' s pockets as he paraded me around. A churning dread solidified in my gut: I was the prize. My mother, Susan, stood by, a ghost of a smile plastered on her face, turning away when my eyes pleaded for help. When I tried to escape Frank Miller' s sweaty grip, my father' s fury erupted. "Smile, Chloe," he hissed. "Don't you dare embarrass me." Later, for a piece of pie, he backhanded me across the face, leaving me bleeding and dizzy on the kitchen floor. My mother' s only reaction was a sigh of annoyance before she followed him, leaving me in the dark. Lying there, the truth hit me: their "love" was a lie; I was merely a commodity. Then, from their bedroom, I heard it-the monstrous plot. "Frank wants to marry her… a fifty-thousand-dollar 'dowry.' Enough for Kevin's wedding." "She's a good girl, deep down. She just needs to understand that this is for the good of the family. It's her duty." My entire life, my body, my future, sold to an old man to pay for my cousin' s wedding and my father' s gambling debts. But the final dagger was my mother' s next whisper, my father' s rough affirmation: Kevin wasn't my cousin. He was my half-brother, my father' s illegitimate son with his sister-in-law, the golden boy for whom I had always been second, always sacrificed. Every childhood slight, every dismissal, every manipulation clicked sickeningly into place. They hadn't wanted me to succeed; they had kept me small, easy to sell. The girl who craved their love died on that cold kitchen floor. A cold, hard resolve took root: they had a plan for my future, a prison disguised as a marriage. But I had a plan too. They thought I was a compliant girl. They were about to find out how wrong they were./0/7283/coverorgin.jpg?v=b182803613c55ad52891a70472285a64&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/82556/coverorgin.jpg?v=6f00068a5cd027863ddd642092f11584&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The SATs and the Scapegoat
My world revolved around Ethan. I helped him with everything: applications, essays, test prep - pouring my all into his Harvard dreams. Then, strange, white "pop-up comments" started appearing in my vision, framing my life like a game, and labeling me the "main girl" in his story. Suddenly, Ethan was obsessed with Chloe, a high school junior, talking about dropping out of Harvard for her. He kept asking me to do things for Chloe, demanding exclusive SAT materials and "brain-food" smoothies, even blaming me when she struggled. I heard him tell his mom he'd "ace these SATs" and get back into Harvard, bringing Chloe too, as if I was just a tool in his grand plan. He was throwing away everything we built, all for a girl who publicly dismissed me as his "old girlfriend" from a "state school." When he brazenly texted me to make new advanced math questions for Chloe, saying it was "my fault for not helping her more," a cold rage settled in. My efforts, my sacrifices, my very identity, felt completely erased, all for his selfish pursuit of someone else. The final straw came when he went missing after his SATs, only to emerge, drunk, blaming me for breaking up with him right before his big exam. He wanted me to fix his life, to appeal his scores, even after he' d emotionally exploited me for years. But then I met Alex, a kind, understanding presence who actually listened and cherished me. I blocked Ethan, choosing to write my own story. This time, my life was the main event./0/86774/coverorgin.jpg?v=7960402f2fdee8ea6fd13141ab75c62e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Sacrificed Son, Unbreakable Soul
The email glowed on my screen, a full scholarship to MIT. A surge of pure joy, a feeling so unfamiliar it almost hurt. This was my ticket out, the thing that would finally make them see me. But when I ran downstairs, laptop clutched like a holy relic, my family was gathered around my younger brother, Caleb, celebrating his acceptance to a local community college. Their banner read, "Congratulations Caleb!" "I got in," I said, my voice softer now. "MIT. With a full scholarship." My father glanced at my screen, then back at Caleb, admiring a new, expensive watch. "That's nice, Ethan," he said, flat and dismissive. "But we're a little busy right now. It's Caleb's big day." My sister scoffed, "Always trying to steal the spotlight, aren't you?" Later, my printed acceptance letter and plane ticket for orientation were torn to unrecognizable pieces in the trash. It wasn't an accident. It was a message. My mother waved it off, "It's just paper. Stop being so dramatic." "Dramatic?" My voice rose, shaking. "This was my ticket to MIT! You destroyed it!" My father boomed, "Don't you raise your voice! You are upsetting your brother on his special night." Caleb smirked from behind him, admiring his new watch, a symbol of his victory. A cold clarity washed over me. It had always been like this. My one tangible hope of escape lay in the garbage. They hadn't just thrown away paper; they had thrown away my future, showing me my dreams meant less than protecting Caleb from his inadequacy. I was a stranger in my own home, a perpetual villain in their narrative. Was I too ambitious, too smart? Was my very existence an inconvenience? My throat ached with a dry sob. I felt like those scraps-torn, discarded, worthless in their eyes./0/17991/coverorgin.jpg?v=7aaa793424876d037cd861a2036dee73&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Bad Girl
Meghan Brooks; typical bad girl. She is confident, sexy and dangerous. Unlike most girls, Meghan is heavily tattooed and loves to cause trouble for anyone she bumps into. When Meghan gets suspended once again for supplying drugs on school grounds, Meghan has to go to Miami for therapy because of her 'bad girl habits' but she immediately says no. When she hears that the person helping her is a seventeen year old boy named Jake Banks though, she instantly heads off to Miami to not only go to therapy, and be tutored, vgbut to meet the boy. The only question is: Can Jake help Meghan or will he get sucked into Meghan's bad girl habits?/0/2743/coverorgin.jpg?v=6e992cb7a30021fb62ee465ff114b62f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Theresa Raquin
One Thursday, Camille, on returning from his office, brought with him a great fellow with square shoulders, whom he pushed in a familiar manner into the shop. "Mother," he said to Madame Raquin, pointing to the newcomer, "do you recognise this gentleman?" The old mercer looked at the strapping blade, seeking among her recollections and finding nothing, while Therese placidly observed the scene. "What!" resumed Camille, "you don't recognise Laurent, little Laurent, the son of daddy Laurent who owns those beautiful fields of corn out Jeufosse way. Don't you remember? I went to school with him; he came to fetch me of a morning on leaving the house of his uncle, who was our neighbour, and you used to give him slices of bread and jam." All at once Madame Raquin recollected little Laurent, whom she found very much grown. It was quite ten years since she had seen him. She now did her best to make him forget her lapse of memory in greeting him, by recalling a thousand little incidents of the past, and by adopting a wheedling manner towards him that was quite maternal. Laurent had seated himself. With a peaceful smile on his lips, he replied to the questions addressed to him in a clear voice, casting calm and easy glances around him. "Just imagine," said Camille, "this joker has been employed at the Orleans-Railway-Station for eighteen months, and it was only to-night that we met and recognised one another—the administration is so vast, so important!" As the young man made this remark, he opened his eyes wider, and pinched his lips, proud to be a humble wheel in such a large machine. Shaking his head, he continued: "Oh! but he is in a good position. He has studied. He already earns 1,500 francs a year. His father sent him to college. He had read for the bar, and learnt painting. That is so, is it not, Laurent? You'll dine with us?" "I am quite willing," boldly replied the other. He got rid of his hat and made himself comfortable in the shop, while Madame Raquin ran off to her stewpots. Therese, who had not yet pronounced a word, looked at the new arrival. She had never seen such a man before. Laurent, who was tall and robust, with a florid complexion, astonished her. It was with a feeling akin to admiration, that she contemplated his low forehead planted with coarse black hair, his full cheeks, his red lips, his regular features of sanguineous beauty. For an instant her eyes rested on his neck, a neck that was thick and short, fat and powerful. Then she became lost in the contemplation of his great hands which he kept spread out on his knees: the fingers were square; the clenched fist must be enormous and would fell an ox./0/92291/coverorgin.jpg?v=74f4c32df415702f618a752ad8c2aa39&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Luna Gambit
Xavier Blackwood is the man every girl at my college dreams about at night, myself included, but I'd never let anyone know that. Standing at 6'4" with steel grey eyes, he might look like a walking dream, but he acts like a first-class jerk. Who would have thought that one night, while dragging myself home after doing double shifts at the diner, I'd be jumped by three men...only to have Xavier come to my rescue. Oh yes, Xavier bloody Blackwood saved my life...but the thing I saw, the CREATURE that ripped those men to shreds, wasn't the Xavier everyone thinks they know. He wasn't human... He was a wolf, a demon, a creature from myth, but before I had time to process, he knocked me out too. Humans that learn about the existence of werewolves have to die. ...There are NO exceptions. The Werewolf Xavier saved me, but now I am condemned to death. To make things worse, both Xavier and Axel claim I am their mate. ...This can't be good./0/82882/coverorgin.jpg?v=9937d690960cdef09432e02d28e02e26&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late For Regret: The Girl They Broke
I still remember the day my American Dream was brutally shattered. I was a high school prodigy, with near-perfect scores, poised for Yale, ready to conquer the world with my intellect. But my biological parents, David and Susan Miller, harbored a dark, selfish agenda. They secretly bribed a corrupt admissions contact, orchestrating a malicious swap of my exceptional SAT scores and deeply personal Yale application essays with my utterly mediocre stepsister, Tiffany' s embarrassing string of failures. Yale, astonishingly, accepted her, while every single top university I had dreamed of rejected me outright. They publicly branded me a charlatan, a liar, ruthlessly humiliating me across the local media to cover their heinous crime. My glittering academic career, indeed my very identity, was cruelly stolen, leaving me spiraling into a debilitating depression, utterly adrift and shamed, stranded in a local community college. Years dragged on, and the Millers, now ostentatiously flaunting their burgeoning tech empire, ironically "reclaimed" me for a brazenly cynical PR stunt. They meticulously planned a grand "Ivy League Acceptance Gala," ostensibly to celebrate Tiffany's fabricated triumph, but unmistakably to publicly humble me once more, broadcasting my supposed inherent inferiority to their elite circles. How could these deeply prejudiced individuals, who so deliberately engineered my devastating downfall, now so audaciously exploit me as a mere prop, truly believing I was still that fragile, broken girl they had so casually discarded years ago? The profound injustice burned like a searing brand. But they profoundly underestimated me. They remained blissfully unaware of Eleanor and Marcus Vance, my true adoptive family, whose quiet but immense power had meticulously nurtured an unbreakable resolve within me. They gravely mistook my composed silence for utter defeat. Tonight, their meticulously engineered spectacle of triumph will spectacularly become their complete and utter unraveling. Tonight, I reclaim every single part of my stolen future./0/4042/coverorgin.jpg?v=aea6bba6ad7f22b47898e54822e9d9e4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Moonfleet
Moonfleet is a tale of smuggling by the English novelist J. Meade Falkner, first published in 1898. The book was extremely popular among children worldwide up until the 1970s, mostly for its themes of adventure and gripping storyline. It remains a popular story widely read and is still sometimes studied in schools.The novel is set in a fishing village in Dorset during the mid 18th century. The story concerns a 15 year old orphan boy, John Trenchard, who becomes friends with an older man who turns out to be the leader of a gang of smugglers./0/82559/coverorgin.jpg?v=605efee8ca09c211a6ec63991544914f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Unseen Hand: A Brother's Deceit
I was just Sarah Miller, a high school senior from a working-class family. The Presidential Scholarship Exam was my only shot at Northwood University, my family's only ticket to a better life. I poured every ounce of hope into that essay, my future hanging on each word. Then, chaos erupted. Tiffany Hayes, pristine and popular, stood up, tears streaming. "Her essay," she shrieked, pointing at me, "it's identical to mine! She copied me!" The proctors found our essays identical, word for word. My own brother, Mark, a TA proctoring the test, offered only a strange, passive pity. "Maybe you just...saw her notes?" he urged. Even my childhood best friend, Kevin, echoed him. Their shocking lack of faith, their immediate 'leniency,' felt like a gut punch. It sealed my ruin. Disqualified. My name dragged through the mud. The full scholarship, my life's ambition, went to her. The scandal financially crippled my family and broke us emotionally. I became a pariah, choked by shame and isolation. There was no escape from the agonizing weight of that injustice. My first life ended in a silent scream of despair, a blur of pills and fading hope. Then, the impossible happened. I woke up. It was exactly one week before that soul-crushing exam, a year before my own death. This time, I carried every raw memory of their betrayal. This time, I wouldn't just survive. I' d redefine justice./0/17994/coverorgin.jpg?v=ff99a4ba3ca27114b414f80bb5797020&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Living With The Anderson Boys
Winter Monroe had planned out her last year at Cambree High. She would blend into the crowd, continuing to pass her subjects and stay away from trouble. Of course, all of that goes down the drain when Winter's mom drops the news that her daughter will be staying at her mom's friends place while her mom goes to Africa. Expecting nothing major, Winter was ready to continue her last year at high school, doing nothing except for what a good girl should be doing at high school. But what happens when she realises that the place that she will be staying for a year will be with four boys who basically rule Cambree High? When your staying with the four bad boys, you know that your life will be turned upside down in a second and thats exactly what Winter wasn't prepared for. Can Winter keep up with the four boys but also stay out of trouble or will the boys lead the trouble towards the good girl?/0/91644/coverorgin.jpg?v=48b8ac2191bc26ef303b9999652118e1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Debt of Desire
Amara believed marriage would finally give her the peace she had spent her whole life praying for. But after years beside Ayo-her charming, unpredictable husband-peace becomes the one thing she can never hold. Their home is filled with longing for a child Amara cannot conceive, and every month of disappointment pulls her further into despair. Then the unexpected happens: Tina, a girl Ayo once denied ever caring about, returns pregnant... with the child Amara had spent years begging God for. The betrayal cuts deep-but the wound it opens is older, darker, and rooted in secrets Amara never knew she inherited. Strange visions begin to haunt her. A mysterious man appears with warnings she does not understand. Shadows gather around her marriage. Doors she did not open start to creak. And everywhere she turns, she feels watched-not by a person, but by something ancient, patient, and owed. Amara soon learns that her battle is not just with a husband's infidelity or a rival's pregnancy... it is with a spiritual debt tied to her bloodline. A debt demanding payment. As her marriage crumbles and the supernatural closes in, Amara must confront the truth about herself, her past, and the unseen forces shaping her destiny. Because in a world where wombs can be exchanged and fates can be manipulated, love alone is not enough to survive. And the child she has always prayed for... may carry the key to either her redemption or her ruin./0/82884/coverorgin.jpg?v=0d35c3f2230f28ce123d27c7eb390e7a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/22861/coverorgin.jpg?v=e059cd04715929250e9982c89ab4ff23&imageMogr2/format/webp)
