Young Adult Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Entangled With The Golden Boy Mason
"Mason, Mr McGrath is your Father," Dr Ben let out. Stacey's brows creased, she pursed her lips in response to what she had just heard," You mean to say my boyfriend is my brother, how's that even possible?" She asked in stutters. When Stacey and her Sister Chelsey move to a new school, little does she know that there's a lot in store for her, secrets, lies and betrayals that had been kept in the dark are brought to light. Falling in love with the school's Golden boy Mason gets her into a situation she never wanted, makes her enemies with the school's most popular girls Scarlett and Camilla, also worsens the already strained relationship she has with her sister Chelsey./0/81332/coverorgin.jpg?v=b0a94803f25d46bac2524309e4bd06b5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Charity Case Dare: Her Sweet Revenge
Sarah Miller had one shot: Northwood Academy, a world away from her cramped apartment and her dad' s pain-ridden reality. As a scholarship kid, navigating the gilded halls felt like walking a tightrope, especially with queen bee Tiffany Vanderbilt and her "Legacy Crew" constantly reminding her she didn' t belong. One evening, sweeping the school theater, I froze, hearing voices from the green room. Tiffany' s voice cut through the silence: "Chad and Brittany are useless… Ethan, it has to be you." My blood ran cold as I listened to them plot the "Charity Case Dare" -a twisted game where golden boy Ethan Hayes would wine and dine me, make me fall for him, then publicly break my heart right before graduation. It wasn't just bullying; it was a calculated psychological operation, a sport for their amusement. They wanted to see me weep, utterly destroyed. Their words, "charity case," echoed like a brand. Every petty cruelty, every snicker, now made sickening sense. How could people born with every privilege, every advantage, be so casually, viciously cruel? Didn' t they have souls? Was I just a disposable pawn in their endless pursuit of twisted entertainment? The injustice burned, a bitter bile rising in my throat. They thought they had me trapped, a helpless animal in their cruel game. But they were wrong. I wasn' t going to be their victim. I would play along, I would weaponize their arrogance, their resources, and their monstrous scheme. And when the final curtain fell, they wouldn' t know what hit them./0/80359/coverorgin.jpg?v=56cc15b5e84bfeab337599cae37bf556&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Seventeen Again: The Day Everything Changed
I died peacefully in my eighties, only to shockingly wake up seventeen again, still in my childhood bedroom. It was college application day, and everything felt eerily familiar, especially my lifelong dream with best friend Jack and boyfriend Kevin: Princeton, shared dorms, and a future intertwined. But the comfort shattered an instant later. Kevin and Jack, my supposed "constants," calmly announced they were ditching the Ivy League. Their new plan? State University, staying local, all to "support" Brittany, the head cheerleader—a non-entity in my previous life—who claimed her family was in crisis. The betrayal hit like a physical blow. Suddenly, my meticulously organized SAT notes, the very tools of *my* ambition, were handed over to Brittany without a second thought. They paraded her scores, reveling in *her* success, while publicly dismissing my shock and mocking my sudden declaration of choosing UC Berkeley. At the graduation party, they treated Brittany like royalty, their arms around her, their attention solely hers, while I became an irrelevant outsider. The yearbook, a symbol of our unbreakable bond, bore their dismissive scrawls, cementing my abandonment. How could the boys who were my rocks, my future, obliterate *our* shared dream for someone they barely knew? Why did their chivalry translate into such a profound betrayal of me? The sheer injustice and confusion were a cold knot in my stomach. But I wouldn't let their misplaced heroism define me. No longer the girl who silently absorbed their choices, I clutched my Berkeley acceptance, booked a one-way flight, and definitively chose my own destiny. This time, I was playing for myself./0/21959/coverorgin.jpg?v=2f24b56eb40efc34c016a7a0d5eab8e7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Spyder Spook
Spurred by a childhood memory, Salander who's a genius hacker and uncompromising misfit, attempts to track down someone from her past, leading her to the Spider Society. She helps a group of hackers gain access into NSA servers, much to the fury of the agency's top cyber security agent, Edwin Needham./0/85227/coverorgin.jpg?v=9ffb463ed56314e258bcf5215209d20f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Heartbreak and Hidden Art
My grandmother, Eleanor Vance, a woman who curated lives as meticulously as her art collection, had decided my future: marriage to the influential gallery owner, Daniel. My dream, however, was to attend the prestigious Blackwood Art Academy, a dream she' d promised to fund-on the condition of this union. But then, my cousin Olivia, ever the delicate flower, executed a theatrical faint at the dinner table, perfectly timed with the announcement of my tuition. She claimed a rare heart condition, and my grandmother, blind to the obvious manipulation, diverted my entire academy fund to Olivia' s supposed treatment, even suggesting I become her "assistant." The injustice burned, the audacity of Daniel-my supposed fiancé-proposing I become his mistress after he secured the Vance fortune through Olivia, was breathtaking. Was my art, my entire future, to be sacrificed for a transparent charade? Just as I believed all hope was lost, a mysterious letter arrived: a full, anonymous scholarship to Blackwood, the exact academy I had been barred from, exposing Olivia' s deceit in front of the city' s elite./0/11578/coverorgin.jpg?v=ddc64c89a798b945def8120250851545&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Wisdom of Father Brown
The second volume of stories featuring the most unlikely detective in literature - now the basis for a major BBC TV adaptation starring Mark Williams. The ingenious amateur detective Father Brown is put to the test again in this second collection of stories, which sees him solve cases featuring bandits, traitors, voodoo and murder, wrong-footing his opponents at every turn with his characteristic blend of mischievous humour and uncanny understanding of human foibles. G. K. Chesterton was born in 1874. He attended the Slade School of Art, where he appears to have suffered a nervous breakdown, before turning his hand to journalism. A prolific writer throughout his life, his best- known books include The Napoleon of Notting Hill (1904), The Man Who Knew Too Much (1922), The Man Who Was Thursday (1908) and the Father Brown stories. Chesterton converted to Roman Catholicism in 1922 and died in 1938./0/24232/coverorgin.jpg?v=66ad241bea3ce08aaba288e1abdcfe92&imageMogr2/format/webp)
THE LINK TO LIGHT
The first installment in the, the light series. The Link To Light is a story that revolves around ---. It tells about Ifesinachi Uzonndu getting admission into the University of Pennsylvania via a scholarship program, and how this changes not just her life but that of those around her.. In life, one tends to meet with people of different backgrounds, cultures and even lifestyles, and this tends to shape our lives and maybe even destinies in the long run. This comes by way of influence where we influence and are influenced by people, but it is via wisdom that one is able to discern right and wrong influence. Such is the case with Ifes, she gets to meet with Mandy Parker and her squad of Friends who one could call well to do. They could be referred to as high class, but even with their wealth, there is this vacuum in their lives that money cannot fill. They go about living high and large in life, but on the inside, they are just empty bodies walking about.. Yo.... then comes into the picture and attempts to provide a filling ( by preaching the good news right??) for their seemingly empty lives. I wouldn't suffice to say it was a smooth ride because it wasn't. There were sudden stops at junctions,pot holes, engine failures, but at the end, one could say it was fulfilling. Although it was a case of winning some and losing some, at the tail end, satisfaction came from having being able to have reached someone. ./0/82635/coverorgin.jpg?v=68dff2a83966a63ed4779284833441e0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Where Reality Ends
My SATs were today, the day that felt like it decided my entire future. But then my phone buzzed with an unknown number, displaying a chilling message: "DON'T TAKE THE EXAM!" It was Michael, my older brother, who'd vanished three years ago on the morning of his own SATs. Another warning followed: "THEY AREN'T WHO YOU THINK." Suddenly, my parents' overly cheerful demeanor felt sinister, their familiar faces hiding subtle, unsettling changes. My dad wore his wedding ring on the wrong hand, and my mom' s distinct scar was now on the opposite brow. Every word they spoke, every gesture, screamed that something was terribly wrong. When I finally tried to escape, a long-time family friend, Ethan, ambushed me with a devastating truth: Michael was dead. He claimed it was suicide, and that I was suffering from a severe PTSD-induced dissociative episode, hallucinating everything. My heart pounded as I watched a video of Michael' s funeral, my phone now empty of all his warnings. Was I crazy? Was this elaborate nightmare all in my head, a cruel trick of my own mind? But then, a specific, unspoken childhood promise between Michael and me-a secret about a monster and a particular trip-failed to match. That's when I knew: This "recovery" was another layer of control, a sophisticated simulation orchestrated by the very person pretending to help. I wouldn't let him win./0/21639/coverorgin.jpg?v=390f377ae4df8cd57ce63736502fb0af&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Player Next Door
After having her heart broken by her childhood friend turned boyfriend, Rylie Myers was convinced that love wasn't for her. The arrival of Blake Weston, a hot teen model and playboy who coincidentally turned out to be her new next door neighbor only added to her conviction that all boys were the same. After getting off on a bad foot, a feud ensued between the two with no particular end in sight. Things however took a turn when they accidentally shared a kiss. Both Rylie and Blake were determined to put the incident behind them until circumstances forced them to keep up a charade that involved them being something more than enemies. As fake feelings gradually become real, will Rylie fall for the player next door? Or is she just in for another heartbreak?/0/85880/coverorgin.jpg?v=3a0c10fc57c8ca431a091d8b66b3e9d4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Death, Their Sinful Secret
The first time Chloe died, I wasn't there. I was in the library, trying to finish a paper, when a text from our friend Emily shattered my world: "Something happened at the dorm. Come back. Now." I ran, only to find flashing lights and yellow tape around our building. Emily, pale and shaking, whispered the horror: "It' s Chloe. She… she fell." The university moved with chilling speed, declaring it a tragic suicide, scrubbing every trace of her from our room as if she never existed. My best friend, gone. But I knew Chloe. She wouldn't just jump. The bruises, the whispered phone calls to a blocked number that made her face tighten with fear-they screamed something else. I tried to tell the police, but they dismissed it, already closing the case. The university wanted me quiet, gone, just like Chloe' s memory. In a haze of grief and rage, I remembered her hidden burner phone and secret journal. I knew they held the truth. That night, I snuck back into our room, found them, and a terrifyingly large man in a dark suit appeared, attacking me. I woke up with a throbbing head, confused, but the buzzing alarm clock confirmed it: Wednesday, 7:00 AM. May 18th. Then I saw her. Chloe, alive, humming at her desk. I had woken up three days in the past. This was my second chance. I could save her. But I failed. Even knowing, even running, I was too late. I watched her fall again, this time on a Wednesday. Despair threatened to swallow me whole, but then a cold, hard determination set in. They had taken everything the first time, covered it up. Not this time. I couldn't save her life, but I could get justice. And the key was the phone and the journal-still hidden where I' d left them in the original timeline. When university officials, including Dean Peterson and the terrifying man who attacked me, burst into my room to silence me, I had a choice. Beg for help? Or fight back? I dialed 911, then deliberately smashed the window, screaming for real police attention. When they finally arrived, I knew my physical evidence was gone. Dean Peterson's smug face confirmed it. So, I played my last card. I looked the officer dead in the eye and said, "I pushed her. I killed my best friend." It was a monstrous lie, a suicide bomb of a confession, but it forced their hand. A suicide they could bury; a murder, they had to investigate. Sitting in the interrogation room, recounting the nightmare to Detective Anderson, the impossible truth started to break through. He listened, he saw the inconsistencies, and for the first time, someone believed me. Chloe's journal and the burner phone, retrieved by my bewildered friend Emily, laid bare the horrifying truth: Dean Peterson was pimping out vulnerable female students, including Chloe, to powerful, wealthy university trustees like the HIV-positive Mr. Thompson. Chloe's death wasn't suicide; it was murder, a desperate escape from a web of abuse and control. My false confession cost me my freedom, my reputation, my sanity, but it ignited a firestorm. The corrupt system crumbled, Thompson and Peterson jailed for life. Standing at Chloe' s grave, the fight over, I knew for the first time: we did it. We changed her story. And no one else would suffer like her again./0/3470/coverorgin.jpg?v=c173e6ef94aae52d5497f12b71870aa4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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From Nerd To NovaCorp Heir
I was just Ethan Miller, the quiet coder, dreaming of a tech internship and a shot with Brittany Hayes. Then the internship list dropped. Her boyfriend Chad made it, I didn't. Hours later, the school' s social media lit up: a "Loser List" poll, and I was "Biggest Nerd," number one. My private DMs, every awkward, hopeful word asking Brittany to prom, were instantly plastered school-wide. Laughter and pointed fingers followed me, the burning humiliation a public execution of my dignity. Brittany had orchestrated it all. She' d played me for a fool, then falsely accused me of hacking, costing me my dream CS program and a suspension. The "Future Innovator" scholarship I was promised went to Chad. Why did she hate me so much, actively ruining my life and now targeting Sarah Jenkins, an innocent outcast I' d tried to help? But at prom, as Brittany "accidentally" spilled a drink on Sarah' s dress, something inside me snapped. The chauffeur opened the Maybach' s door; I stepped out in a custom Tom Ford tuxedo, my family' s security detail and stylist flanking me. "I'm Mark Miller's son," I whispered to a stunned Sarah. "NovaCorp. Time for an upgrade."/0/7364/coverorgin.jpg?v=9620803981a63a706d12996e78187950&imageMogr2/format/webp)
An Onlooker in France 1917-1919
Sir, William Newenham Montague Orpen, KBE (1878-1931) was an Irish-born British portrait painter. He studied art at the Metropolitan School and at the Slade School in London where, at the time, great emphasis was put on the study of old masters. He was a fine draughtsman and a popular painter of the well-to-do in the period leading up to World War I. Orpen was made an official war painter of the First World War and in 1917 he travelled to the Western Front. He produced drawings and paintings of privates, dead soldiers and German prisoners of war along with official portraits of generals and politicians. (Excerpt from Goodreads)/0/42405/coverorgin.jpg?v=97233dad0094ec8f3d17cbf4eef568ff&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Cold As Ice Cubes
A boy with an ice-cold nature named Alizter made Morin curious to death. Why is that boy so closed off and so difficult to approach? Morin felt curious, she wanted to approach Alizter, but it wasn't as easy as she imagined. There is something going on with Alizter, and Morin wants to get to know that cold boy even more. Morin only hoped that she didn't go too far and make a mistake./0/23588/coverorgin.jpg?v=c2287c7c5ab26cc287b29ae968587d05&imageMogr2/format/webp)
CAST OUT
Overpowered by the strong hands who grabbed her by the hair and pulled her along, dragging her into a dark room that recks of urine and cigarettes. Hurled her inside. His hands still gripping her hair and not doubt if he let go, some strands of hair would fall of. Undeniably, the pains were suffocating. When she stares at his dark eyes, the only thing she saw was darkness. "Let go, let go of me you bastard!" She spit out. That only made his mighty five fingers appear on her face. Which sent her head spinning on her neck. He made her kiss the earth. And slowly breathed in her face. "Your life ends here...." his voice was deep baritone and cruel and that was when she felt the shivers down her spine. How did the nerdy Elina find her way into the merciless billionaire's court?/0/8339/coverorgin.jpg?v=2bf49cb5a4d865dd3b73851813bf9e10&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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Cast Upon the Breakers
A short story, set in the USA. A young man in a private school learns that his guardian has lost his inheritance in some poor business dealing; as a result, there is no money left and he must leave the school to make his own way in the world. The story follows his adventures as he escapes being cheated, but is then accused of theft for which another is guilty. Of course, he lands on his feet and builds himself a circle of friends and makes his fortune./0/80368/coverorgin.jpg?v=7945c8ff022e02e94ae2c0dc55f7d847&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Graduation Day's Cruel Ultimatum
My high school hunger was a secret I carried, a constant, gnawing emptiness in my gut. My mother's decree echoed daily: "You're smart enough for honors classes, you’re smart enough to figure out food," leaving me to navigate lunchtimes with only a sloshing stomach and burning cheeks as friends clattered trays and devoured greasy pizza. But the true test came the Wednesday before Thanksgiving break. My mother, her face cold and impassive, delivered an ultimatum that slashed through my fragile existence: drop out and work, or forever lose the right to call her house home. I chose school, my voice barely a whisper, and seconds later, the front door clicked shut, severing ties, leaving me to the brutal, biting November night. With nothing but a backpack, I ended up huddled in a forgotten corner of a community center gym, the chill piercing through my thin clothes, my dreams feeling colder still. Each shiver was a reminder of her harsh rejection. How could a parent abandon their child, especially one striving for a better future? Was my entire life a misguided 'fantasy' in her eyes, a burden she could simply cast aside? The injustice burned, leaving me utterly adrift and alone. Then, through the flickering lights of the gym, I saw him again – Jake Peterson, the golden boy, unexpectedly volunteering. His laughter died when his gaze landed on me, a travel-worn vagrant in his world. Instantly, his kindness, the same compassion that had once offered me half a sandwich and pulled me back from hunger, resurfaced. "Sarah? What are you doing here?" he whispered, and then, without hesitation, extended his hand: "You're not staying here. Come on. My place."/0/85235/coverorgin.jpg?v=4bd03e523426fa037957bbdcac0ac010&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Betrayal's Sting: Her Own Path
The university library hummed with the quiet hum of panic on the last day for college applications. My finger hovered over the 'Submit' button for Caltech, my dream school, when I heard him. Liam, my best friend since childhood, was laughing with his friends, his voice cutting through the silence. "Chloe' s going there. She' s an art major, and she' s kind of nervous about being in the city alone. Someone' s got to look out for her." Then the words that shattered everything: "Ava? It' s fine. She has my account password. When she sees I' ve changed my mind, she' ll follow suit. She can' t live without me anyway." My breath caught. He hadn' t just broken our decade-long promise of attending Caltech together; he expected me to abandon my own future, my father' s legacy, like a pet. He truly saw me as an extension of himself, not a person with my own dreams. The casual cruelty stung, deeper than any physical pain. How could he so easily dismiss everything we' d planned, everything I was, for a new girl he barely knew? Had our shared dream, the very foundation of my future, been nothing but a fleeting whim to him? The betrayal was absolute, the humiliation searing. I had built my world around a promise that, for him, was apparently disposable. But then, a cold anger washed over me, stronger than any hurt. He thought I couldn' t live without him? He had no idea. With a steady hand, I clicked 'Submit' on my Caltech application, forging my own path, free from his shadow./0/86534/coverorgin.jpg?v=0ebd390da93f71b2b7e3a063cd2da6d9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
