U.S. Copyright Renewals, 1967 January - June

U.S. Copyright Renewals, 1977 January - June

Be the first to ask a question about U.S. Copyright Renewals, 1977 January - June

U.S. Copyright Renewals, 1977 July - December

Be the first to ask a question about U.S. Copyright Renewals, 1977 July - December

U.S. Copyright Renewals, 1975 January - June

Be the first to ask a question about U.S. Copyright Renewals, 1975 January - June

U.S. Copyright Renewals, 1972 July - December

Be the first to ask a question about U.S. Copyright Renewals, 1972 July - December

U.S. Copyright Renewals, 1968 January - June

U.S. Copyright Renewals, 1968 January - June by U.S. Copyright Office

U.S. Copyright Renewals, 1974 January - June

Be the first to ask a question about U.S. Copyright Renewals, 1974 January - June

Heartbreak Billionaire: He Should Never Have Let Go

Sunlit hours found their affection glimmering, while moonlit nights ignited reckless desire. But when Brandon learned his beloved might last only half a year, he coolly handed Millie divorce papers, murmuring, "This is all for appearances; we'll get married again once she's calmed down." Millie, spine straight and cheeks dry, felt her pulse go hollow. The sham split grew permanent; she quietly ended their unborn child and stepped into a new beginning. Brandon unraveled, his car tearing down the street, unwilling to let go of the woman he'd discarded, pleading for her to look back just once.

The Scars She Hid From The World

The heavy iron gates of the Wilderness Correction Camp groaned as they released me after three years of state-sponsored hell. I stood on the dirt road, clutching a plastic bag that held my entire life, waiting for the family that claimed they sent me there for "rehab." My brother, Brady, picked me up in a luxury SUV only to throw me out onto a deserted highway in the middle of a brewing storm. He told me I was a "public relations nightmare" and that the rain might finally wash the "stink" of the camp off me. He drove away, leaving me to limp miles through the mud on a snapped ankle. When I finally dragged myself to our family estate, my mother didn't offer a hug; she gasped in horror because my muddy clothes were ruining her Italian marble. They didn't give me my old room back. Instead, they banished me to a moldy gardener’s shack and hired a "babysitter" to make sure I didn't embarrass them further. My sister, Kaleigh, stood there in white cashmere, pretending to cry while clinging to her fiancé, Ambrose—the man who had once been mine. They all treated me like a volatile junkie, refusing to acknowledge that Kaleigh was the one who planted the drugs in my bag three years ago. They wanted to believe I was broken so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about the "wellness retreat" that was actually a torture chamber. I sat in the dark of that shed, feeling the cooling gel on the cigarette burns that covered my arms, and realized they had made a fatal mistake. They thought they had erased me, but I had returned with a roadmap of scars and a hidden satellite phone. At dinner, I didn't beg for their love. I simply rolled up my sleeves and showed them the price of their silence. As the wine spilled and the lies crumbled, I sent a single text to the only person I trusted: "I'm in. Let them simmer." The hunt was finally on.

Marrying Her Was Easy, Losing Her Was Hell

"Stella once savored Marc's devotion, yet his covert cruelty cut deep. She torched their wedding portrait at his feet while he sent flirty messages to his mistress. With her chest tight and eyes blazing, Stella delivered a sharp slap. Then she deleted her identity, signed onto a classified research mission, vanished without a trace, and left him a hidden bombshell. On launch day she vanished; that same dawn Marc's empire crumbled. All he unearthed was her death certificate, and he shattered. When they met again, a gala spotlighted Stella beside a tycoon. Marc begged. With a smirk, she said, ""Out of your league, darling."

Too Late, Mr. Johnston: She Is Gone

Kara was diagnosed with cancer, and her unborn child could not be kept. Kara planned to end the pregnancy, get a divorce, and face her impending death with equanimity, allowing Davin and his new love, Alyse, to be together. But Davin had no intention of letting her go so easily. He and the increasingly frail Kara were inseparable day and night, just to leave a child for the infertile Alyse. Kara lay dying in her hospital bed, crying and laughing, pleading, "I'll give you my life, please let me go." Later, the cold and aloof man knelt before Kara's tombstone, holding gardenias day and night, his eyes red as he murmured, "Baby, stop it, come back."

Never Yours Again: Too Late To Chase Me Back, Mr. CEO!

Ever since Ryan took her in, Kailey had tried to be sensible and pleasing, shaping herself around his moods. He'd raised her, but she never saw him as family; she'd been sure they'd end up together. On the day she turned twenty, ready to confess her feelings again, his beloved woman came back. Kailey overheard, "Kailey is just a kid to me; I could never look at her that way. The only person I love is Olivia." She walked away, and Ryan fell apart. Later, at her wedding, Kailey smiled in white. Ryan pleaded, "I regret it, Kailey. Please don't marry him." Calmly, she said, "Can you let go? My groom won't appreciate it."

Broken Ring, Billionaire Secrets: Watch Me Shine

I sat on the edge of the examination table, the crinkle of the sanitary paper sounding like thunder in the sterile room. The doctor didn't even look at me as he confirmed the news: the pregnancy was over. My husband, Keyon, didn't answer my call. He just sent an automated text: "In a meeting." When I returned to our cold mansion, I found his iPad glowing with a message from his "muse," Katina. He was throwing her a secret gala tonight-on our third wedding anniversary. He told her he couldn't wait to escape the "boring" and "draining" atmosphere I created at home. Keyon didn't stumble in until 3 AM, smelling of Katina's perfume with a smear of red on his collar. When I handed him the divorce papers, he laughed in my face. He called me a "glorified housekeeper" with no skills and no future, promising I'd be back in three days begging for a subway ticket. He even bet his friends ten thousand dollars that I wouldn't survive a week without his name. He had his assistant cancel my credit cards and block my gate access before I even reached the end of the driveway. He wanted me to starve. He wanted me to crawl. He sat in his office, mocking the "desperate" woman who pawned her three-million-dollar wedding ring for scrap metal just to pay for a meal. I stood on the rainy curb, watching the man I had protected for three years treat my life like trash. He didn't know about the ultrasound I just threw in the bin. He didn't know that while he was calling me "dull," I was the one secretly writing the code that kept his billion-dollar empire from collapsing. As I slid into a cheap Uber, I opened a hidden, encrypted app on my phone. The screen refreshed to a dashboard for an account Keyon didn't know existed. The balance was ten figures long-the accumulated wealth of "Solaris," the world's most elusive tech genius. Keyon thinks he just evicted a parasite, but he's about to find out he just declared war on the only person who can hit "delete" on his entire life.