Young Adult Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Too Late To Realize
Weeby knew that Marcell was an annoying boy. His daily job was to annoy her. Unfortunately, Marcell was in the same class as Weeby, and that boy also doubles as a peer. However, when Resti arrived. A sorting student from another class, Weeby was annoyed by one fact that she knew from Resti. There is one very important fact that Resti is hiding from Marcell, a fact that will plunge the boy into the trap that Resti has set. How can Weeby tell Marcell about it? On the other hand, she was sick to death of his behavior. But, if Weeby doesn't tell him what Resti is hiding, Marcell will be in grave danger./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?/0/33529/coverorgin.jpg?v=c3b2b6032dc1606ba1a2e3c36ad7b06c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Stuck between two bad boys
"You are mine, Emily!" Xavier groaned in raw frustration. He looked over Emily's shoulders and noticed Devin staring at them. Since his stepsister started dating the bad boy, his love and obsession for her increased as his hatred for Devin increased as well. It hurts him to see the girl he loves so much getting comfortable with the bad Boy he has an unspeakable history with. "I love you, Emily" Xavier smirked as he moved closer to her "You belong to me sister or not!" He pulled her closer and smashed her lips in a forbidden kiss while Devin watched!/0/22422/coverorgin.jpg?v=dbadfe8150377681ba1521cae9427531&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Heart Speaks
Heart Speaks is a story about Sophia. She and her younger sister, Erica, the talented musical attended the same Music High School. Henry want to date Sophia. While Benjamin want Erica, his ex girlfriend back, after breaking her heart for many times. Would Sophia accept Henry? Would Erica accept Ben back?/0/22266/coverorgin.jpg?v=c6d3225381f98959794e500cc683aa8a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Mend Me ( I'm Broken)
Rose Hathaway, At the age of seven lost everything that was dear to her and witnessed death just before her eyes but by some miracle gained a brother who turned into her everything. After living in pain and abuse with her uncle and Aunt for 10 years, she decides to run away and takes her brother with her. Fortunately for her she meets Emily who has two children, Andrea and Aiden. What happens when she starts staying with them? Aiden Zeldon, a guy who grew up with love and care from his mother finds his heart getting pulled towards Rose. But because of what happened to Rose in the past, she built up a wall around her in order to protect herself and her brother from harm again. The journey is tough but Aiden makes it his mission to break down her walls and soften her heart. Will he succeed or will her self loathing be too much for him to handle?. Find out in this emotional love story that is Rose's life./0/83746/coverorgin.jpg?v=b9af3f80413709c9e88aff6b418d2882&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Thorne Protocol: An Heiress's Master Plan
The screech of tires, the smell of burnt coffee, and then… I was back. Not in the mangled wreckage of my car, but in my college dorm room, sunshine streaming through the window. My roommate, Maya, stood by the mirror, a saccharine smile plastered on her face. She was wearing a flimsy, cheap imitation of my bespoke silk dress. A jolt of pure terror and disbelief shot through me. The date on my phone confirmed it: September 5th. I had somehow returned, almost a full year before the catastrophic "accident" that ended my life. That "accident" was caused by Maya, who loosened the brake lines on my convertible. In my first life, this moment unfolded in silence. I chose to hide my identity as Chloe Thorne, tech heiress, striving for normalcy. My quiet tolerance, my desperate wish to be liked, ultimately sealed my fate. Her voice, already dripping with poisoned honey, was the same one that would systematically dismantle my reputation. It was the same voice that ultimately led to my very existence being ended. The unfairness of it all, the knowledge of what was to come, made my heart pound like a trapped bird. How could I have been so blind, so foolishly kind, that it led to my own demise? The memory of her betrayal, her crocodile tears, fueled a cold, resolute fire within. I was no longer the girl who would silently endure her manipulations. I had been given a second chance, a rare, chilling gift. There was no room for niceties, no space for the old, naive Chloe. As Maya turned, expecting my usual placid response, I sat up, my gaze unwavering. "Take it off," I commanded, my voice entirely devoid of warmth. This time, I would write my own ending, on my own terms./0/84059/coverorgin.jpg?v=034d17b701e4667e4cebbcd9ebcb5b74&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Architect of Her Own Demise
"Gabrielle? Are you awake?" The whisper cut through the dark, the same saccharine sweetness that had once chilled me to the bone. My eyes snapped open, a breath catching in my throat. I wasn't in the cramped, lonely apartment where I'd taken my own life. I was back in my Boston University dorm, sophomore year, the exact moment the psychological torture had begun. In my last life, my roommate Molly Fuller, the seemingly naive small-town girl, methodically dismantled my sanity, piece by piece. From "accidental" coffee spills on my laptop to "innocent" lies that ruined my relationships, her constant torment culminated in a crippling mental breakdown. I lost my scholarship, my future, and eventually, the will to live. I died alone, haunted by her pervasive manipulations, utterly bewildered by how someone so seemingly innocent could orchestrate such a devastating campaign of destruction. But this time, as her silhouette materialized through the curtain, my heart didn't pound with fear. It thrummed with a cold, hard rhythm of vengeance. This time, I knew every single move she would make, and I would make her regret every single one./0/72483/coverorgin.jpg?v=e07f203525618a6f8d7e40b58e3f2b5b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Secret Coven
The Coven's Power has Lured Her Home... Victoria must confront a shattering challenge: an ordeal that could cost her life or gain her more than she's ever imagined... Charmed by the Secret Coven, she's initiated into the mysterious "in crowd," a coven of young witches whose power has controlled New Orleans for three hundred years. Hopelessly in love with the coven leader's boyfriend, Victoria risks falling prey to dark powers in order to have him. But if she does, her endless love could destroy the coven, New Orleans, and her! ...And She Will Emerge the Leader or Perish!/0/14445/coverorgin.jpg?v=20210813192822&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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Echoes of a Nightmare
The night before the SATs, I sat at my desk, my mind fixed not on review books, but on Kevin Johnson, my ex-boyfriend, whose excited voice boomed from downstairs, bragging to my dad about Tiff Rodriguez' s party-his new girlfriend. Then, a horrifying, vivid memory jolted me from what should have been a normal evening: Tiff, sneering in the school bathroom, outlining her vicious plan to drug Kevin so he' d miss his Ivy League SATs. In that other life, the one I somehow lived, I' d desperately tried to intervene, to warn him, but he' d just laughed it off. Tiff' s scheme ultimately failed and led to her death, but Kevin, consumed by rage, responded by framing me for sexual assault. The unbearable shame of his lies drove my parents to suicide, and I, arrested and condemned, died in juvenile detention, haunted by Kevin' s cruel visit displaying my parents' last, broken moments. The utter injustice of his monstrous lies, the agonizing despair of being blamed for everything while struggling to help, was an unbearable burden. How could one life be so thoroughly shattered by such a deep, twisted betrayal? But then, a sharp gasp brought me back to my room, the exact same night before the SATs, Kevin' s laughter still echoing. This was it: my second chance. A cold, knowing smile touched my lips. This time, I would write a different ending./0/1932/coverorgin.jpg?v=e94ae507423298f50c56b696c22c9001&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Essays of Michel de Montaigne
The present publication is intended to supply a recognised deficiency in our literature—a library edition of the Essays of Montaigne. This great French writer deserves to be regarded as a classic, not only in the land of his birth, but in all countries and in all literatures. His Essays, which are at once the most celebrated and the most permanent of his productions, form a magazine out of which such minds as those of Bacon and Shakespeare did not disdain to help themselves; and, indeed, as Hallam observes, the Frenchman's literary importance largely results from the share which his mind had in influencing other minds, coeval and subsequent. But, at the same time, estimating the value and rank of the essayist, we are not to leave out of the account the drawbacks and the circumstances of the period: the imperfect state of education, the comparative scarcity of books, and the limited opportunities of intellectual intercourse. Montaigne freely borrowed of others, and he has found men willing to borrow of him as freely. We need not wonder at the reputation which he with seeming facility achieved. He was, without being aware of it, the leader of a new school in letters and morals. His book was different from all others which were at that date in the world. It diverted the ancient currents of thought into new channels. It told its readers, with unexampled frankness, what its writer's opinion was about men and things, and threw what must have been a strange kind of new light on many matters but darkly understood. Above all, the essayist uncased himself, and made his intellectual and physical organism public property. He took the world into his confidence on all subjects. His essays were a sort of literary anatomy, where we get a diagnosis of the writer's mind, made by himself at different levels and under a large variety of operating influences./0/82810/coverorgin.jpg?v=b9c51187392c9fde951a112455c33146&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Rewound: Exam Day Revenge
I woke up to the familiar rumble of thunder, the bruised purple sky mirroring the dread in my stomach: exam day. It was all happening again, precisely like last time. Last time, Kevin, my earnest ex, held us back for Brie, the school' s queen bee, who, ever the drama, insisted on a "critical influencer photoshoot." We were late, of course. But the real disaster wasn't just missing the exam. Later, at a supposed peace offering, Brie handed me a coffee. It was laced with tree nuts, my deadliest allergen. I died. Kevin and his "Elites" lied, claiming I was distraught and ate something by accident. Brie played victim online, painting me as the bully, while my mother' s quest for justice shattered her life. Having lived through that betrayal, that humiliation, that fatal setup once, to wake up here again on this exact morning felt like a second chance – not just at life, but at cosmic rebalancing. Why was I back? This time, I wouldn't say a single word. Let them wait. Let them miss their exam. Let them ruin their own lives. My future at MIT was already secure. Theirs, however, was about to unravel, with me watching from the sidelines./0/8346/coverorgin.jpg?v=c6dccd2c1422dece5238c1ec2d7aaf2e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Man Who Knew
Richard Horatio Edgar Wallace (1 April 1875 – 10 February 1932) was an English writer Born into poverty as an illegitimate London child, Wallace left school at 12. He joined the army at 21 and was a war correspondent during the Second Boer War for Reuters and the Daily Mail. Struggling with debt, he left South Africa, returned to London and began writing thrillers to raise income, publishing books including The Four Just Men (1905). "The Man Who Knew" is another nice convoluted story from Wallace. A memory expert, murder, an inheritance, bigamy, kidnapping, drugs, corruption and all the usual Wallace ingredients go to make up a story that is pure Edgar Wallace from start to finish./0/33689/coverorgin.jpg?v=fd86e3bfed9cc89d763665d7579f8ff8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The One He Never Claimed
When Alex loves, she loves hard. So much so that she loses and depletes herself. She's madly in love with newly drafted football star Ezra, who loves her but won't tell that to the world. So she stays through the chaos because of "love", but soon the chaos becomes too much to bear and that has her going downhill. ------- NB: This book will take you on an emotional rollercoaster, maybe even have you really upset with the protagonist. But please be patient with her. She'll get it soon enough./0/82811/coverorgin.jpg?v=fd02dea7107bc1a5e5f0c9c26d09d766&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Don't Mess With The MIT Heiress
The car horn blared, a familiar sound mirroring a day that once ended my world. My eyes snapped open to the rain-streaked window – SATs morning, a date etched in my memory, not for the test, but for the beginning of my ruin. Last time, it began with my 'friend' Jessica' s sweet smile, offering food after the exam. Then, the peanuts. My throat closed. My boyfriend, Liam, sided with her, dismissing it as 'an accident.' That 'accident' spiraled. Online posts branded me a monster, my tech CEO mother' s reputation shredded, her company attacked by Jessica' s followers. The worst? Dying, isolated and vilified, knowing Jessica orchestrated it all for revenge-her father fired for embezzlement-and for social media clout. The bitter betrayal still burned. How could I have been so easily destroyed by a calculated lie? I died a villain while she won. But this time, the script was about to flip. I wouldn't be a victim. An MIT early admission letter, a full scholarship, sat on my desk, secured weeks ago. The SATs, once my undoing, now meant nothing to me. But they meant everything to them. The past was a horrifying ghost, but its lessons were concrete. I was ready to make them pay./0/82655/coverorgin.jpg?v=c52b8b9ce87b9d8533affb516324e198&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Underestimated Genius: A National Asset
Alex Thompson, the quiet academic decathlon captain, just wanted to escape the loud, lavish graduation party. Surrounded by kids flaunting their Ivy League acceptances, he felt the sting of unspoken judgment. Mark O' Connell, the tech mogul's son, and his popular girlfriend, Brittany, singled him out. They mocked his "empty hands," implying he was a "total bust" with no college acceptance. The taunts escalated quickly, Mark blocking his exit and offering him a hundred dollars to admit he was a "failure." Brittany gloated, waving her USC acceptance, while others showcased their prestigious university logos. Tired of it, Alex quietly presented a small, unassuming metallic medallion. The popular crowd erupted in laughter, dismissing it as a "cheap keychain" or a "weird D&D guild pin." Mark, enjoying his power, then ordered his jock friends to "teach him some manners" and force him out. Why was Alex so unnervingly calm, even as the jocks moved in? What was this mysterious medallion that caused such ridicule, yet held him so composed? Their cruelty was palpable; his quiet dignity hinted at a secret they couldn' t possibly comprehend. Just as they reached for him, Alex's phone buzzed with an urgent, blocked call. "Reroute transport to O'Connell Innovations," he calmly requested. Mark scoffed about his "imaginary escort service," until a convoy of black, federal-looking SUVs suddenly pulled up outside. A sharp woman in a suit, Ms. Hayes, emerged, immediately addressing Alex: "Mr. Thompson, we were expecting you." With icy precision, she revealed his true designation: "The Prometheus Fellowship is a matter of national priority." The party instantly fell silent. Mark and his father, their faces drained of color, realized their petty bullying had just triggered a national incident. Alex, the perceived "loser," calmly walked out, leaving their shattered world behind./0/58877/coverorgin.jpg?v=cec0229700f2a678cb116909bc944c9d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Twinkling Eyes
Hazel Nash had always been the one person I couldn't stand. Every time I saw her in the hallways, her head buried in some book, I felt my blood boil. She had taken my topper spot and made it hers, and every time I saw her name above mine, it felt like a personal insult. But there was something else, something I never admitted to myself until that day. It was late after school, and the halls were empty. I was heading to the library when I heard soft humming. Following the sound, I found Hazel sitting alone in a corner, her eyes closed, lost in her music. For a moment, I just watched her. She looked so different, so...peaceful. "Enjoying the view?" she asked, not opening her eyes. I felt my face heat up. "Just wondering how you always manage to look so smug," I shot back. She opened her eyes and met my gaze, and for the first time, I saw something other than rivalry in them. There was a softness, a vulnerability that took me by surprise. "Maybe because I don't see you as a rival, Ace," she said softly. "Maybe I just see you." Those words hung in the air, and something shifted between us. We both knew we were supposed to hate each other, but in that moment, it felt impossible. The days that followed were confusing. I found myself drawn to her, seeking her out in the library, walking her to classes. We'd argue, of course, but there was a new undercurrent, a tension that was hard to ignore. One evening, as we were studying together, our hands brushed. It was a simple touch, but it sent a shock through me. "Why are you doing this, Hazel?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "Because," she replied, "I think there's more to you than just the competition." That night, under the dim library lights, we kissed. It was tentative at first, then urgent, as if we were trying to make up for all the lost time spent hating each other. In that moment, all the rivalry melted away, replaced by something far deeper. But it wasn't easy. We had to keep it a secret, sneaking around, hiding our feelings from everyone. Warren would never understand, and Amber would be furious. The school would explode if they knew. Yet, every stolen moment was worth the risk. One day, we were nearly caught by Warren. We had been in the music room, hidden from the world, when we heard footsteps. Hazel panicked, but I held her close. "Trust me," I whispered. We stayed still until the footsteps faded away, and then she kissed me, harder than ever before. "Someday, Ace, this won't have to be a secret," she said. "Someday," I agreed, hoping that day would come sooner rather than later. Until then, we would live for the stolen moments, the secret smiles, and the forbidden kisses. Because despite everything, despite the rivalry and the risks, Hazel Nash had become the one person I couldn't live without./0/15544/coverorgin.jpg?v=3221b1274a6c76cf3ab4f9bd7ffd0027&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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