JANICE KELLEY
11 Published Stories
JANICE KELLEY's Books and Stories
Substitute Bride: Marrying The Hidden Lycan King
Fantasy I was the crippled joke of the Silver Ridge Pack, while my cousin Elara was the perfect future Luna.
When a seemingly weak rogue named Dravon arrived to claim Elara as his fated mate with a bouquet of withered flowers, she publicly humiliated and rejected him.
To save the pack's face, I stepped up and accepted his bond, becoming the ultimate laughingstock.
Elara tossed his wedding gift—those withered weeds—into a muddy animal trough.
Out of quiet defiance, I picked them out of the slop and ate the mud-stained petals.
But those weeds turned out to be mythical Blood Moonflowers, priceless treasures that triggered a violent, agonizing healing process in my cursed leg.
Seeing my pain, my terrified mother and the arrogant pack healer restrained my mate.
"Apply the silver dust salve," the healer declared proudly, ignoring Dravon's desperate warnings.
Silver was a death sentence for my dark magic curse.
I lay helpless on the cot, watching my own mother eagerly assist the man about to permanently destroy my leg.
Why was my family so blind? Why did they always choose to break me?
Just as the deadly silver paste was about to touch my skin, a terrifying, god-like pressure suddenly shattered the air in the tent.
My "weak" rogue mate's voice echoed directly in my mind.
"Close your eyes. Don't be afraid." Claimed By The Ruthless Billionaire Boss
Romance Tonight was supposed to be Cordelia's grand engagement party, the night she finally secured her future.
But an hour before the banquet, she received an anonymous video. Her fiancé was in the hotel's penthouse, tangled in the sheets with her stepsister. They had even paid off her trusted staff to keep her isolated.
Cordelia didn't shed a single tear. She walked onto the grand stage, hijacked the screens, and broadcasted their betrayal to hundreds of New York's elite. She tore up the multimillion-dollar prenup and threw the pieces in his face.
"The engagement is canceled. My legal team will seize your family's assets by tomorrow morning."
But instead of support, her own father violently grabbed her wrist, furious that she ruined their reputation. Her stepmother tried to slap her for the cameras, and her ex-fiancé threatened to completely destroy her career. Surrounded by the people who were supposed to be her family, she was treated like the villain.
Just as she was cornered, Justice Duncan, the most ruthless billionaire on Wall Street, stepped out of the shadows.
He offered her absolute protection and capital, but only if she signed a five-year contract marriage to mother his four-year-old heir.
But when Cordelia finally met the little boy, her blood ran completely cold.
The boy was the exact baby she was told she had miscarried four years ago. And the billionaire handing her the marriage contract was the same stranger who had taken him. The Coldhearted Billionaire's Violent Possession
Billionaires I snuck into the Long Island estate’s private study, desperate to find my boyfriend, Channing, and beg him for the money to save my mother’s life.
But when I wrapped my arms around the man standing in the dark, I felt a body of cold, hard muscle that didn't belong to Channing.
The lights flickered on, and I found myself pinned against the window by Constantine Warner, the ruthless head of the empire who despised me more than anyone on earth.
He didn't pull away; he held me there, his gray eyes burning with a mix of razor-sharp disgust and a dark, violent hunger that terrified me to my core.
Outside the room, my boyfriend Channing walked in, but instead of defending me, he laughed at my humiliation just to please his powerful brother.
I was left with nothing—no money for my mother’s surgery, no dignity, and the haunting realization that the man who hated me most was the only one who truly saw me.
Why did Constantine look at me like I was his prey, and what happens when the parasite finally decides to bite back? My Rebirth: A Billionaire's Sweet Vow
Modern In my last life, my fiancé and stepsister stole my company and left me for dead.
Now, reborn, I have to watch it all happen again. At a lavish ball, Christian publicly humiliates me, flaunting his affair with my stepsister, Genevieve.
They think I'm the same weak woman who will crumble. Genevieve even steals the one proposal that could save my mother's legacy, texting me that I'll end up with nothing.
At a family dinner, Christian tries to force my hand, falsely announcing we're already married to secure his position.
He expects me to play along in front of the one man who could change everything: the legendary tech titan, Immanuel Romero.
But I refuse. When Christian grabs me in a rage, a powerful hand stops him.
Immanuel Romero steps between us, his voice like ice. "Never touch her again."
Then, he looks at the stunned room and makes an announcement that shatters their entire plan.
"Eliana is my fiancée." His Cold Revenge, A Hidden Love
Romance For three years, I made my husband, Kane Chandler's, life a living hell. The day my family went bankrupt, he became a billionaire and handed me divorce papers.
"My true love has returned," he said coldly. "I have no more use for you."
To save my desperate family, I was forced to accept his cruel offer: become his live-in mistress. I had to serve him and his perfect new girlfriend, Astrid, in the penthouse that was once my home, enduring his cold, calculated revenge every single day.
But then I stumbled upon a devastating secret. His "true love" Astrid was secretly plotting with his brother, Cade-the man I once adored-to destroy him from the inside.
Astrid begged me to steal a file from Kane's safe, claiming it was the only way to save him from blackmail. I agreed, ready to sacrifice myself to set him free. I never imagined this was the final move in a twisted, three-year-long test of love he had designed just for me. From Heiress to Hellbent
Romance I was the fiancée of Bryant Barnes, the cold heir to a tech empire. Our engagement was a dynastic merger, a picture-perfect lie splashed across magazines. But behind closed doors, our life was a bizarre war fought with money and public humiliation.
The war turned brutal when his mistress, Kalia, broke into our home with her friends and had me beaten, stomping on my hand until it broke.
I pressed charges, but when Bryant arrived at the police station, he took one look at my bruised face and walked past me to comfort a sobbing Kalia.
"Don't make a scene, Charlotte," he said, his voice laced with annoyance. He had them released without a second thought.
The final betrayal came when Kalia pulled me into a lake. I can't swim. Bryant dove in, swam right past me to save her, and turned his back as I sank beneath the water, leaving me to die.
A stranger pulled me out. In that moment, I finally understood. It wasn't that he was incapable of love; he was just incapable of loving me. For the one he loved, he would destroy anyone. For the one he didn't, he would leave her for dead.
The last embers of my foolish love turned to ash. Lying in my hospital bed, I took out my phone and called the one man who had ever shown me kindness.
"Jaden," I said, my voice steady. "I'm ready to burn it all to the ground." My House, My Revenge
Modern Six months after losing my husband, Mark, I was a ghost in my own life, scrolling through Instagram when a photo ripped me from my numbness.
It was Chloe' s account, a former intern I' d mentored, but the background-our living room.
My living room.
Only it wasn' t.
The minimalist haven I designed was desecrated by gaudy gold wallpaper, a hideous leopard-print sofa, and a cheap crystal chandelier.
Strangers laughed, red plastic cups in hand, in the space Mark and I built as a testament to our love.
The house, bleeding, was screaming.
Chloe was at its center, champagne flute in hand, her arm around David, Mark' s business partner.
My husband' s friend.
He smiled smugly, possessively, kissing her cheek.
The caption: "New beginnings in our new home! Out with the old, in with the new! #blessed #bosslife."
Our new home?
My blood ran cold.
My kitchen, painted garish pink.
My garden, a frat house with a hot tub and beer bottles.
They had taken my sanctuary, our legacy, and turned it into a mockery.
The rage arrived like a physical blow, a hot spike in my chest.
My hands shook, but my mind was terrifyingly clear.
I called David.
"What the hell are you and Chloe doing in my house?"
His slick, unbothered voice, punctuated by Chloe' s infuriating giggle, coolly informed me Mark had signed everything over to him.
It was his house now.
His company.
All perfectly legal.
"People do strange things when the end is near," he sneered, dismissing Mark as a mere business transaction.
He hung up, leaving me with the silence screaming in my ears.
Just a house.
It wasn' t just a house.
It was my life.
The last piece of Mark.
And they had taken it, desecrated it, and were laughing.
The grief that had fogged my world for six months burned away, replaced by a cold, hard resolve.
They thought I was beaten, a grieving widow easily pushed aside.
They had no idea who they were dealing with.
I am a brilliant architect.
I am meticulous.
I see the flaws in every design, the stress points in every structure.
And I designed that house.
They' d started a war.
I was going to finish it. Framed by My Best Friend
Modern My life was finally mending after the nightmare that shattered everything.
I was rebuilding my academic career, my family was recovering, and my fiancé, David, and I were slowly piecing our lives back together.
Then, a text message flashed across my phone, sending a shot of ice through my veins: a seemingly innocent invitation from my old friend, Kate, to a university exhibit preview.
My stomach clenched, remembering the chilling déjà vu.
Last time, that exact invitation led to a priceless historical artifact appearing in my bag, my academic dreams dissolving into dust.
It cost my parents their retirement savings, tarnished David’s promising career, and culminated with me bleeding out, left for dead in a desolate parking lot by a deranged fanatic.
I knew this was the trap again, meticulously set.
How could I possibly prove my innocence when the truth had failed me before?
But I wasn’t the naive victim I once was.
This time, I had a plan, born from the bitter ashes of my past.
I made a desperate, calculated choice: I got intentionally drunk and drove.
The flashing blue and red lights in my rearview mirror were a grim confirmation of my sacrifice, my pre-planned alibi.
They would arrest me, document my whereabouts, miles away and undeniably off-campus when the theft surely occurred.
This time, the system couldn't use me.
This time, I would fight back to expose the real mastermind, no matter the cost. When Love Becomes Torture
Modern 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. Fiancé to Fiend, Sister to Slayer
Modern Locked away in a mental health center, my only window to the outside was a rickety tablet. I watched, hopeful, as my sister Chloe walked down the aisle, her smile a burst of sunlight on her wedding day.
But the joyful scene shattered in an instant. A woman, face grotesquely scarred, shrieked venomous accusations about Chloe ruining her life. Without a word of defense, her fiancé Mark, twisted with rage, slapped Chloe across the face, declared her "poison," and had her violently dragged away to a sinister "farm" for "purification." The livestream cut out, leaving me in stunned silence.
Then came Mom’s call, her voice a thin, broken wire: Chloe was gone. Dead. An "accident" at that farm, they said, left without medical help. When Mom tried to get answers, Mark’s men beat her and threw her out. My sister, the kindest soul, was brutally taken from us.
Chloe, gone due to such callous cruelty and calculated neglect? The unbearable injustice, the suffocating grief, sparked a suppressed fury I’d carried for years. They called me dangerous, diagnosed me with an explosive disorder, and for years, I'd fought it. But now, that dark fire felt like the only truth.
No longer fighting my demons, I unleashed them. In a cold, calculated move, I forced my way out of that institution, leaving chaos in my wake. The cool Oregon air hit my face, carrying the scent of impending rain and undeniable revenge. My sister deserved justice, and I was going to deliver it, no matter the cost. You might like
After Rebirth, The Strongest Beasts Are Obsessed With Me
Alibi Elena died on the operating table, betrayed by her husband, her unborn child already gone.
But death? Just her intermission.
She woke up in a whole new world-a beastmen's world, where females are rarer than diamonds and the strongest males go mad without a woman's mark to calm them down.
And her?
Labelled the weakest female alive. An F-rank body with a joke of a status.
But hidden inside? Unlimited mental power.
Just as she's figuring out this mess, a system pops up with one hell of an offer:
Complete the missions. Bond with assigned males. Save this world.
Do all that, and you get a one-way ticket back home. for revenge.
Sounds simple? Think again.
A Wolf General, colder than a blizzard, who should have ended her-ended up letting her mark him.
A Fox Prince, all charming smiles and secret schemes, who started playing games only to lose his own heart.
A golden Dragon, sunshine-bright and fiercely possessive, who declares her his destined treasure.
A shadowy Serpent, too patient and too dangerous, watching her every move from the dark.
A Phoenix King, whose love burns so hot he'd reduce empires to cinders for her.
They all need her mark. They all want her.
And sharing? Not in their vocabulary.
Too bad for them-
She's not here for love stories.
She's here to survive.
To climb.
To turn their legendary power into her own stepping stones.
And one day.
To go back and make her betrayers wish they were never born. Reborn As The Alphas' Hated Mate
Ying Luo I woke up in a lavish bedroom, only to find a man built like a god of war chained to my wall, glaring at me with pure, unadulterated hatred.
A glowing apparition appeared and told me I had died in a car crash and transmigrated into the body of Elara, a tyrant Luna. Worse, the chained man was Ryker, one of my six fated mates whom the original Elara had brutally tortured.
Because of her sadistic crimes-starving them, exiling them, and sending two of them on a suicide mission-my affinity with them was at negative five hundred. The apparition delivered my terrifying death sentence.
"In three days, at the Marking Ceremony, you will be killed by your six mates."
No matter what I did-freeing Ryker, sharing my food, or lifting their brother's exile-they viewed every act of kindness as a sick, twisted trap. They were just waiting for the punchline to my cruel joke, ready to expose me and end my life.
I was just a librarian who organized book clubs and paid my taxes. Why did the Goddess throw me into this doomed vessel to pay for a psychopath's blood debts? How was I supposed to survive when the men destined to love me were actively plotting to rip my throat out?
Cornered by their righteous fury, I realized playing defense wouldn't work. I grabbed a dagger, sliced my own palm over the ceremonial stone, and swore a blood oath to bring their missing brothers home-or initiate a soul-shattering Rejection Ceremony myself. The Vampire Kings And Their Little Mate
Liz Barnet Being stimulated by three overly attractive vampires was the last thing I had ever imagined.
"Oh Jasmine, this is a sight to behold," Archer murmured,landing kisses all along my inner thighs.
Lucien broke the kiss, I could see the lust in his eyes.
Micheal took the turn to kiss me once I caught my breath and Lucien's fingers moved to spread my labia only for me to feel the unexpected lick of Archer's tongue on my clit.
My eyes rolled to the back of my head.
"Feel it..." Lucien growled into my ear, biting my earlobe, "Feel it how we pleasure you, little mate."
******
My whole life I have known my identity as a human but everything changed once I took the job in the Kings' palace as their maid and their attention fell on me.
Black Vale Dynasty was ruled by three powerful Vampire kings. Respected, Obeyed and feared they were the most dangerous predators on the earth. But when my life unknowingly gets entangled with theirs, soon the unimaginable happened—On the night of the full moon, I turned out to be their mate and this puts my whole existence under question.
They did not want to leave me but a human couldn't be the destined mate of a vampire, let alone three.
However, fate pulled the strangest game on me, linking my life to the eliminated Vaidel-Dynasty which was once ruled by the strongest vampire of all time before the rogue attack…that destroyed everything.
Reborn To Swap Husbands With My Sister
Culprit The sensation of falling wasn't like flying; it was heavy, violent, and smelled of burning flesh. Above us, on the crumbling balcony of the Sears manor, Duke Cato Sears turned his back, shielding his cousin Bianca from the smoke as he walked away, leaving my sister Blossom and me to drop into the abyss.
As the darkness slammed shut like an iron door, I realized my entire life had been a cruel script written by the people I called family.
In my first life, I was the sacrificial lamb of the Dawson manor, sold to a man who eventually watched me die without blinking. My sister Blossom had pushed me into Cato's arms to avoid his rumors, only to laugh when the fire finally consumed us both. My father had measured my value like a piece of livestock, and my step-grandmother didn't even acknowledge my existence while I was being led to the slaughter.
I died in that fire, feeling the heat scorch my skin and the weight of a hatred so potent it tasted like bile. I spent twenty years being the weak, manipulated shadow of a girl, only to end up as nothing more than a phantom scorch mark on a "hero's" estate.
I couldn't understand why my own blood treated my life like a game they could discard. The injustice of it all burned hotter than the flames that took my last breath.
Then, I sat up, sucking in air that tasted of lavender and air conditioning, not smoke. I was back in my bedroom, three days before the engagement ball that ruined my life. Blossom stood at the door, her "sweet" mask slipping as she tried to manipulate me into the Duke's path again.
She thought she was the only one who had come back, but she didn't realize that this time, I was going to let her have exactly what she wanted: the Duke, the bankruptcy, and the living hell that awaited her in that house. Reborn From Betrayal's Ashes
Gavin The champagne tasted like ash. My daughter, Lily, beamed beside my beaming husband, David, celebrating her university graduation-a picture-perfect moment I' d relived before.
In my previous life, it was on this very day that she had shattered me, screaming, "You're not my real parents!" after draining my retirement, all to fund the biological family who' d thrown her away.
That betrayal, that sickening realization of my life's savings gone, had led to my death in a car crash, a distraction of overwhelming grief.
I didn' t understand how the sweet girl we had doted on for twenty-two years could be so cruel, so utterly devoid of gratitude, bleeding us dry for people who saw her as nothing but a walking ATM.
But then, I woke up, back in my own bed, on the morning of this exact party. This time, there would be no selfless mother, no victim. This time, I was a survivor, and I was ready for war. Rebirth: A Sister's Betrayal
Sheelagh Sexton The sound of the front door opening was a nightmare come true-my younger sister, Emily, stood there, not alone, but holding a baby in a cheap pink blanket.
"Surprise! Meet Leo. He' s the newest addition to the Miller family legacy," she announced, her voice sickeningly carefree, echoing the very words that had derailed my life in a past I' d already lived.
My blood ran cold; this exact moment, this casual act of irresponsibility, had led directly to my death before.
My parents, blinded by affection, embraced the child and Emily' s monstrous lie, turning their backs on my desperate pleas for reason.
Consumed by a terrible sense of déjà vu, I remembered the blinding pain, the darkness that consumed me when Emily, armed with one of my own sculptures, ended my previous life for simply asking her to be responsible.
But this time, I wouldn't be the martyr-this time, the cycle would break, and Emily would pay.' No More Sacrifices: A Rebirth
Felix Turner The screams of the "Proving" ceremony were the first thing I heard when I woke up.
My eyes shot open, and the scent of pine, sweat, and something metallic filled my lungs.
I was back in this godforsaken survivalist compound, mysteriously transported from my office job.
A hand grabbed my arm, and it was Gabrielle Chadwick, or Gabby, her terrified eyes pleading.
"Molly, help me! Please! They're going to hurt me!"
This was the ritual where young men would strike unmarried women with leather belts, and the one enduring the most blows was deemed "most desired."
In my past life, I shielded Gabby, taking every blow for her, believing I was protecting a friend.
My sacrifice made me the "most honored," granting me first choice of a partner, and I chose Caleb Scott, the compound leader' s son.
But my life with Caleb was a private hell of control and brutality, while Gabby, seething with resentment for what she thought was her rightful place, pretended to be my friend.
She eventually got her revenge, pushing me off a cliff during a foraging trip.
Now, reborn at the start of that same horrifying ceremony, Gabby was playing the same part, her hand clamping my arm, her voice a desperate plea for me to be her shield again.
I looked at her, at the calculated fear in her eyes, remembering the sharp, final impact of falling.
Not this time. 
/1/114233/coverorgin.jpg?v=b6841aed326aba40895c341369018fec&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113413/coverorgin.jpg?v=754a2f7f867bb0fcef4fcaf9ce4f5105&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/112925/coverorgin.jpg?v=02d477f67c0b289c1e46eb70e02f552b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/103441/coverorgin.jpg?v=2afcf1a07cd407caaf96c1ff6ab1d1ae&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/98451/coverorgin.jpg?v=c5efa0e3d140dd2be27196932b5d38ba&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/89880/coverorgin.jpg?v=cc6b4dceb482453055611b15be927a2a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/84862/coverorgin.jpg?v=c9ff382cd9629d4ca71dd658d337074b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/80755/coverorgin.jpg?v=2082e6f508b92ce568038656083fe2a8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/80732/coverorgin.jpg?v=df5b513fafbeffc1b73ed681fc74006a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/80288/coverorgin.jpg?v=6e5e38d2cfc4cb5cca7f15e01c3479fa&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/18594/coverorgin.jpg?v=38bc9358ce1d8db603879ed3a14c9d6a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113468/coverorgin.jpg?v=ddb3061e60f0e932508f84c4eefd50be&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/112227/coverorgin.jpg?v=3f76d88d09724c90a884db39cfb8e66f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113532/coverorgin.jpg?v=f65e52e277060a95d050018786ffe1c5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/29677/coverorgin.jpg?v=825ff2dbb5b74c91fa2c7fc318fc49c3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/64988/coverorgin.jpg?v=8aca40ae190b97f894593d5f5730c6a6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/105182/coverorgin.jpg?v=5cb742553ef3839db915d1d5dae6596c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/109587/coverorgin.jpg?v=e4454a5222826da45fe5c78f89a5b8ee&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/86221/coverorgin.jpg?v=20251104025741&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/86603/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106212236&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/84124/coverorgin.jpg?v=9bdccb57610ae24693674c1e892f1a2e&imageMogr2/format/webp)