Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
/0/86559/coverorgin.jpg?v=344e7464095e9553322c8d772384eab0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Scorned Wife, Sudden Fortune
The world came back to me in fragments of pain, the profound exhaustion of thirty-six hours of labor. They saved me, saved my daughter, and I expected relief. Instead, I heard my husband, Ethan, from the hall, his voice light, conversational, almost cheerful. "She' s completely torn apart down there… it' s disgusting. Like a war zone." My breath caught. "And her stomach," he whispered, "It' s all loose and flabby, covered in these weird purple lines. She looks like a deflated balloon. I swear, I don' t think I can ever touch her again." My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat a painful thud of realization. This was the man who had held my hand, told me I was brave. Then the other voice, "What about the kid?" A flicker of desperate hope ignited. He wanted a daughter so badly. "It' s a girl," Ethan said, his voice flat. "Lily. Cries all the time. Just another thing to deal with." The hope died. Then his tone shifted, charming, for a phone call. "I know, I wish you were here instead. I can' t wait to see you." A mistress. The late nights, the secretive calls, the growing distance I' d blamed on pregnancy stress-it all clicked into place. Tears, hot and silent, streamed from my eyes. Not sadness, but rage and a grief so profound it felt like a physical wound. He wasn' t just shallow, he was cruel. Not just a bad husband, but a monster. In that sterile, blood-scented room, I mourned my marriage, the man I thought I knew. A cold, hard decision settled in my soul, listening to him coo at his lover. My daughter would not have a father like him. I would raise her alone. This wasn' t the end of my pain, but it was the beginning of my fight./1/114462/coverorgin.jpg?v=150de2d989144632b0522ab5643fcedf&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Awakening: His World Falls Apart
My husband Hudson had kept me a medicated ghost for three years, convinced I was unstable. But a cheap pink hair clip, tangled with golden blonde hair in his car, ripped through the chemical haze. The bitter pill he forced me to take wouldn't numb the burning truth, only fuel my awakening. I was an architect once, but now I was just Cora, a docile wife trapped in his suffocating world. When he saw my shock, his concern was sickeningly sweet as he offered another Xanax. I pretended to swallow the poison, letting it dissolve under my tongue, a constant reminder of my awakening. Back at the mansion, his massive car deliberately blocked mine, a crude barricade confirming his control. Then, a message from an old intern confirmed my darkest fears: this was domestic abuse. He urged me to check Hudson’s closet, to record everything. I knew then I was living with a dangerous monster, and my denial shattered. The anger burned, fueled by the bitter taste of that undissolved pill. That night, Hudson walked in, wearing a hideous, sloppily tied red polka-dot tie. It was a clear, undeniable sign of another woman. My architect’s mind was awake, cold and calculating. "Game on, Hudson." I would make him taste this bitterness back a thousand times./0/86235/coverorgin.jpg?v=23f42515b0223a058b48a294023ace10&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Wife They Cast Aside
For ten years, I lived a life that wasn' t mine, sacrificing my scientific dreams to become the perfect wife and mother. My carefully built world shattered when I overheard my husband, Mark, tell our ten-year-old daughter Mia, that her real mother, my sister Sophia, was finally coming back. He then twisted a venomous lie, blaming me for Sophia' s decade-long absence, claiming I was jealous and drove her away. Mia' s face twisted in fury, her blue eyes, once filled with love, now burned with hatred as she screamed, "You're a monster! I hate you!" Before I could react, she lunged and shoved me down the grand staircase, leaving me crumpled and bleeding on the marble, physically and emotionally broken. My parents, witnessing my prostrate form and Mia' s crocodile tears, immediately sided with their 'precious' granddaughter, my mother slapping me and my father lecturing me on duty. They saw me not as a daughter, but as a business asset, a pawn to save their shaky social standing and financial future. How could the people who were supposed to love me unconditionally abandon me so easily, believing such a blatant lie? Why did my years of selfless devotion to a child and a family that wasn't truly mine only lead to such profound betrayal? Lying there, bleeding and discarded, a chilling clarity pierced through the agony: My life as Olivia Reynolds, the aspiring scientist, was violently reclaimed. I would divorce my indifferent husband, leave my ungrateful family, and reclaim the life stolen from me a decade ago./0/81693/coverorgin.jpg?v=4eb849e34c4938ead209d920af45cba1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn on the Quarry's Edge
The ground rumbled beneath my worn boots as I washed mason jars, a seemingly ordinary afternoon in my quiet kitchen. Then, Martha' s scream, thin and sharp with fear, shattered the peace: my mother-in-law was frozen, having stepped on something deadly in the old quarry land. I called my husband Jack, an ex-Army EOD tech, but his dismissive voice echoed a past life I' d already endured, confirming he was with his mistress Brenda. He laughed, calling me "hysterical," just as he had when his neglect contributed to Martha' s death once before, refusing to believe his own mother was in danger. A cold wave of memories washed over me: his past betrayal, Martha' s agonizing death, and his self-serving contempt, all replaying this horrific scene. Could I really trust him, the man who owed his life to my parents' sacrifice, to save his own mother now when he' d failed so callously? But this rebirth wasn't just a curse; it was a warning. I wouldn't let Martha die again. Drawing on fractured memories of Jack' s EOD training, I stepped onto the live explosive, taking Martha' s place. A sickening click affirmed my choice, marking the moment I chose defiance and survival – this time, things would be different./1/104080/coverorgin.jpg?v=190fd65d0cd2c3e8217f0a4302491d6a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Lost My Savior, Found His Pain
For years, I believed my unique blood was a gift to save the man I loved. Now, he saw it as a poison. At the urging of his venomous new lover, Kim, he believed I was a family enemy trying to destroy him. He subjected me to endless torture, draining my life force to treat Kim' s fake pregnancy. Each extraction, which he saw as me faking my pain, was actually pushing my body toward total collapse. I endured it all for one reason: to protect my innocent brother, Benny. But how could the man whose life I'd secretly preserved be so blind to the truth? When they captured Benny and threatened his life, I offered my final sacrifice. I gave Cliffton my entire remaining life force, dissolving into light before his very eyes. And in that instant, as his cured parents appeared to reveal every lie, he finally understood: he had just murdered his own salvation./1/102458/coverorgin.jpg?v=2d33cae79ce1f013aeafda6be79e10b1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Exposing His Lies, Burning His Empire
I gave up my tech career for my professor boyfriend, Donovan. For ten years, I was his perfect, supportive partner, but he repaid me by cheating with his student, Brie. On our anniversary, he brought her favorite peanut butter into our home-forgetting my deadly allergy-and then left me to be with her. I finally escaped to Europe, but he hunted me down. Consumed by a possessive rage, he found me with my new partner, Kevin, and brutally attacked him. I had to smash a wine bottle over Donovan's head just to make him stop. As he stood there bleeding, he actually tried to propose, swearing she meant nothing to him. But then my phone rang. A frantic woman on the other end sobbed, "Brie is at his mother's house! She's pregnant with his baby!" That's when I decided leaving wasn't enough. I would use the very skills I sacrificed for him to expose every single one of his lies and burn his entire world to the ground./0/81369/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106195451&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Vanishing $28,000
My fiancé Mark' s mother, Carol, beamed with a chillingly sweet smile as she handed me a debit card, a generous gift of $28,000 for our condo down payment. Settling into their Austin living room, I felt an overwhelming sense of security and belonging, a perfect start to our life together as I thanked them profusely. That warm glow brutally extinguished just days later at Best Buy when the cashier, after swiping the card, simply stated, "Insufficient funds." My heart plummeted; an ATM display confirmed the horrifying truth: a mere $800 remained, $27,200 of our future seemingly vanished into thin air. When I confronted Mark and Carol, their united front delivered a cold slap of denial and insidious gaslighting. Carol cooed about how easy it was to "forget a transaction or two," while Mark casually dismissed my concern, both subtly implying I was either incompetent or lying. The true betrayal came when Carol orchestrated a call to my parents, painting me as a scatterbrained bride overwhelmed by wedding plans, swaying even my own family' s trust. I was completely isolated. How could my future in-laws, and even my fiancé, turn so cruelly, so deliberately, attempting to frame me and strip away my credibility? The initial joy and security were replaced by a bitter cocktail of shock, anger, and a dawning, terrifying realization: this wasn't about missing money; it was about an elaborate, calculated scheme to control me. But a fierce resolve hardened within me; I wouldn't be their victim. With my best friend by my side, I vowed to expose their lies, no matter the cost, turning their game back on them step by calculated step./1/114463/coverorgin.jpg?v=7e4e5ce25db8ec20d4edf7c95b1eda0f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
He Buried Me, But I Bloomed
She was dead. Or at least, that's what they thought. Now, five years later, Ivy Richardson stood at her own grave, ready to face the man who put her there. Ivy, in a custom coat, stood at her cold, black marble gravestone. "Beloved daughter and fiancée," the inscription read—a cruel joke mirroring her heart's wasteland. A gravedigger dropped his shovel, face ashen. Trembling, he pointed, gasping, "Oh my God... you look exactly like her." He saw a ghost; Ivy was alive. She paid for silence. Then, Clayton, her former fiancé, appeared, shaking: "Ivy? Where have you been?" She crushed his cheap lilies, her lethal gaze replacing the girl he'd abandoned. He snarled, blaming her, justifying her "Do Not Resuscitate" order for his mistress, Ainsley. Ivy's cold laugh mocked his pathetic lies. "Fiancé?" she echoed, revealing her new wedding ring. "That title expired when you signed the DNR... and Ainsley was watching, wasn't she?" With an icy "Go to hell," Ivy left him slipping in the mud./0/86236/coverorgin.jpg?v=93f4f6453dda7fae0732f9400dfb17ec&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Betrayed By Love, Reborn Stronger
The scalpel felt wrong in my hand, cold and alien. "Sarah, we're ready. It's time." My husband, Dr. Mark Johnson, stood beside me, his voice a smooth, confident hum. This was the moment. The surgery on my own father. The moment that, in another life, had destroyed me completely. I dropped the scalpel. "I can't do it," I said, my voice surprisingly steady. A flash of memory, vivid and real, flooded my mind: an orange jumpsuit, camera flashes, a "Guilty" verdict. I remembered dying alone in a prison cell, my name a synonym for malpractice and murder. A monster who killed her own father on the operating table. Why was I reliving this? I'd changed things. I hadn't operated. I'd deliberately injured my hand, smashing it against a metal basin to avoid that fate. Yet here I was, surrounded by public scorn, branded a "psycho doctor" and a "murderer" by a baying mob, all orchestrated by Mark and my mother, Eleanor. They even produced a manufactured video of me botching the surgery-a doppelganger, a staged performance meant to frame me. This was my second chance, but it felt like a replay of my death. They thought they had me trapped again, burying me under fabricated evidence and public hatred. But I had a secret weapon, a desperate, wild gamble up my sleeve, a suspicion rooted in old family secrets. When the autopsy results came in, Mark and Eleanor believed they had fully sealed my fate. They brought out reports of my fingerprints on the scalpel, a massive overdose of a powerful opioid, and a fake email from my deleted files-a confession to a mercy killing for insurance money. They had built an airtight case. Despair washed over me. I was going to lose. Again. But then, a thought clicked. A distant cousin from my mother' s side. The truth began to crystallize, sickening and monstrous. My only way out was to play their game, just for a little longer. "I'll confess," I croaked, my mind racing. "But I have one condition. One last request. Just let me see him one last time. Let me say goodbye at the funeral home. Alone." They thought it was the last gasp of a defeated woman. They were wrong. This was my opening./0/80396/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106193456&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Day I Left My Own Wedding
Ethan Miller, a top-tier software engineer, had poured his soul into Innovatech, the company he built alongside his long-term girlfriend, CEO Victoria Hayes, with shared dreams of success and marriage. But when Ethan responsibly exposed a catastrophic flaw in a project plan by Dylan Vance, the investor’s entitled son, Victoria publicly humiliated him, brazenly siding with Dylan and demanding Ethan compromise his ethics to secure funding, even dangling their long-awaited marriage as a cynical incentive. The betrayal escalated as Ethan witnessed Victoria's increasingly intimate relationship with Dylan, both professionally and personally. He came home to find them openly laughing, a cruel mockery of his devotion. Victoria then accepted his resignation with contempt, threatening his career and leaving him financially stranded. How could the woman he loved, his partner in building this company, so casually discard his integrity for a spoiled rich kid and investment money? Was their entire six-year relationship nothing more than a strategic pawn in her corporate ambition? The injustice was a searing blow. With his loyalty shattered, Ethan made a drastic choice. Soaked by an Austin downpour, he walked away from it all and made a decisive call to a rival firm. This wasn’t just about quitting; it was a defiant declaration that his integrity, and his future, belonged solely to him./1/104081/coverorgin.jpg?v=e0f20d663c74edc858b9d805515eafb0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Hero Husband's Cruel Betrayal
My husband, Greyson, is a celebrated war hero. When the community center caught fire, he saved a child. But it wasn't our son. He walked right past Karter to rescue another boy, publicly claiming the child as his own. That betrayal was nothing. When Karter later collapsed, his rare heart condition triggering a life-threatening crisis, I ran for his life-saving medication. The safe was empty. Greyson had taken it. He' d given our son' s only dose to the other boy to make him "feel strong." While Karter fought for breath, the news hailed my husband as a selfless hero for his "noble sacrifice." For years, I excused his coldness and blatant favoritism, hoping the man I married would return. But watching him smile on TV as he condemned our son to death, I finally understood. He called my desperate pleas "drama" and hung up. He's convinced I'm too weak to leave, that I'll come crawling back like I always do. He has no idea I've already filed for divorce, severed our mate bond, and am driving our son far away, leaving him to the ruin he so richly deserves./1/110570/coverorgin.jpg?v=863e3460e5e303d3cc7d6247cfe09e9f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
When Love Turned To A Grave
When I was pregnant, my husband, Christian, abandoned me. Because he chose my sister, Annabelle. Five years after my tragic death, Annabelle fell critically ill and desperately needed a kidney. That was when they remembered me. He called, demanding that I drag myself back, but I was no longer capable of answering. My five-year-old daughter answered instead. "My mommy passed away a long time ago." He refused to believe the child was his. Until a DNA report proved their paternity. As he dug up my grave, the truth finally broke him. Meanwhile, my soul was tethered to his side, forced to witness his entire world crumble to dust./1/102459/coverorgin.jpg?v=18837f26674d1271ead63c27c2004d24&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Thousand-Day Streak of Lies
For ten years, I believed my long-distance relationship with my architect boyfriend, Griffith, was unbreakable. I was building a successful career, convinced our love was the one constant I could count on. That illusion shattered the day I saw his phone. A thousand-day Snapchat streak wasn't with me. It was with his intern, a girl he called Kallie Sunshine. His apology was a cold, duty-bound marriage proposal, followed by him taking the fall for her career-ending mistake at his firm. In the middle of the chaotic company lobby, as he was sacrificing everything for her, she delivered the final blow. "I'm pregnant with his baby!" she shrieked, a triumphant smirk on her face. "And you're just a bitter old hag who couldn't keep her man!" Ten years of my life, my love, my future-all reduced to a humiliating public spectacle. He chose to protect his "little muse" while I was just collateral damage. I slapped his face, threw the ring at his feet, and walked away. This time, I wasn't just going back to my apartment. I was leaving the country for good./0/82019/coverorgin.jpg?v=dde43c6aef83a2a3a9e458aa85574443&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Beyond the Flame
I was Sarah Miller, a decorated SWAT captain who took a bullet for my partner, Mark, leaving me paralyzed. He swore to protect me, to cherish me. I believed him, even as I fought to recover in a rehab center. Then, flames erupted. Trapped in my room, I called Mark, expecting salvation. But his voice was different, cold. "Stop the drama, Sarah. Get yourself out," he said, before I heard her, Chloe, my physical therapist, pleading in the background. My husband chose his mistress over me, leaving me to burn. As black smoke consumed me, I watched, now a ghost, as Chloe immediately spun a web of lies, accusing me of starting the fire out of recklessness, even faking my escape. Mark, the man I saved, the man I married, stood by, silently endorsing her vile accusations, painting me as a fugitive arsonist. My reputation, my legacy, shattered. How could the man I loved, the partner whose life I saved, betray me so completely? The injustice seared deeper than the fire. To die a horrific death, then be slandered by the very people who abandoned you – it was a hell beyond imagination. But unseen, unheard, I watched as my former partner, Detective Maria Rodriguez, refused to believe their lies. She knew the true Sarah Miller. And now, she's digging, poised to unearth the truth from the ashes, and demand a reckoning./1/114464/coverorgin.jpg?v=df289d662c11dd22400a1f8ede7c40d3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Betrayed Bride, Billionaire's Beloved Queen
The heavy prison gates clanged shut, ending three years. I scanned the empty lot for Julian, my fiancé. Deserted. Biting December wind my only welcome. Calls to Julian, father, mother: unanswered/disconnected. Shivering, Julian's tracker showed an unfamiliar Long Island estate. A freezing cab left me penniless; I walked through the blizzard. Through a mansion window, I saw Julian, my stepsister Clara, a small boy—a perfect family. Julian, who hated children, doted on him, and Clara wore *my* engagement ring. I overheard Julian's call: he, my father, conspired to frame me for Clara’s medical error, saving their company and future. My family hadn't just abandoned me; they plotted my destruction. A delayed text from Julian popped up, lying about a "cross-border meeting," promising to pick me up tomorrow. Despair vanished, replaced by a cold, terrifying smile. Typing "Understood," I turned from their stolen life, walking into the blizzard, fueled by burning rage./0/85264/coverorgin.jpg?v=2243096f3c68d84a9e2300e993af9635&imageMogr2/format/webp)
From Victim To Victor
The stifling heat of my dorm room was the first sign. It clung to me like a wet blanket, a stark contrast to the cool relief of the hallway. Then came the sharp voice, Olivia' s, followed by the others, demanding I turn off the AC I' d just turned on. "Turn that off." "Yeah, turn it off. It' s freezing." They seemed unaffected, even as I sweltered. Then came the electricity bill: an exorbitant $485.62, more than double last month, which they insisted I pay, all of it. "What' s the matter, Chloe? Can' t afford it? I thought your family was rich." It was a blatant lie, a twisted mockery of my efforts to be fair, to be liked. The feeling of pure injustice burned within me. What had I done to deserve this escalating torment? "You're our personal ATM, Chloe. And we're not done making withdrawals." They weren't just taking my money; they were stripping away my dignity, piece by piece. My phone-my only lifeline-was next, then a brutal beating, culminating in my terrifying imprisonment in a dark, foul-smelling closet. My own father, Mr. Thompson, the university trustee, was just outside. He heard the fabricated lies, the slander about my character, and believed them, leaving me in that dark place, thinking he' d abandoned me. His quiet departure, the click of the door, felt like the end. But a final, desperate sound, a frantic phone call from my best friend Jessica, pierced through the despair, and then the thundering demand of my father' s voice, now raw with panic: "Open this door!" My fight for survival was just beginning./0/19077/coverorgin.jpg?v=68bbdc1516083f44744edaa20a3d7071&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Secrets and Lies series
Lying and holding secrets comes to us naturally, as natural as breathing and looking on either side of the road before crossing. We all do it to protect ourselves because sometimes the truth can hurt us. Some are harmless little white lies, but some secrets hide horrible things. Those lies will always come haunting those who seek to keep their lips sealed. Follow Caroline, Charlotte, Chloe, and Caleb's journey, as their life is turned upside down as they fight to keep their lips sealed about the murder they accidentally committed. Everyone keeps secrets. Everyone lies. You better make sure no one saw what you've done before making up your lies because all it takes is one person with the truth on their lips for your life to be destroyed. ...... "Blood." Caroline stuttered, seeing the blood flowing from her head. Charlotte looked at the steel bat in total shock, a few drops of blood dropped on the ground. " I had to save you," Charlotte explained, looking at Caroline. " I know. Is she breathing?" Care walked closer, holding her injured arm. " I will check," Caleb volunteered. He put his hands over her nose to feel for her breathing. " No, no, no," Caleb repeated in fear. She's dead/0/35624/coverorgin.jpg?v=15fe4978625169ab2570ea2e083df872&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Quadruplets Father is a Mafia Boss
The woman with a secret to keep, if love is pure, even if it hurts, will endure for the beloved, pretend so that she is not hated by everyone, but as a result, she is rejected by the people she loves, especially her husband. The woman is stunned by love. Strongest in the whole world but weak when it comes to love. She is Charmaine Wextricca the woman who will do everything just to make her husband love her. But what if the one she loves, loves someone else. What will she do? and she was kicked out by her own family, can she handle it all? What if she found out she was pregnant? what will she do, will it go away? For the good of her and all? She will return, to her former self, as one of the strongest women in the world. Let's follow the story of our heroine, Charmaine Wextricca with her beloved husband Kibb Monteverde, who did nothing but drive her away and hurt her./0/80398/coverorgin.jpg?v=63eed89f800112586a225905f7fca6d2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
On Our Tenth Anniversary, I Found His Other Life
My husband, Mark, was always busy building his AI car startup, NovaDrive. As an engineer sidelined by an accident, I clung to the hope that our upcoming tenth anniversary would bring him home, back to the man I married. But then, I found his work tablet. A message thread with "Sweetheart S." revealed not just a months-long affair, but secret plans for a romantic trip to Paris—a trip he told me was a crucial business meeting. His mistress, a woman named Sophia, then brazenly sought me out, revealing she was pregnant with Mark's child and scoffing that my accident had made things "complicated." Meanwhile, Mark was systematically stripping me of everything—our joint assets funneled into offshore accounts, my precious family heirlooms stolen from a safe deposit box and gifted to Sophia. He even called me a "liability." The pain wasn't just the affair; it was the calculated cruelty, the meticulous betrayal I'd endured while he painted me as the clinging wife. How could the man who held my hand in the ER become someone who wanted to erase me completely, leaving me with nothing? Just when I thought I was utterly alone, broken and financially ruined, a desperate Sophia arrived at my door. She’d finally seen Mark for the cold, manipulative user he was. Now, we're forging an unlikely alliance, ready to bet that two wronged women can bring down an empire built on lies./0/90456/coverorgin.jpg?v=223a954c3f0b09c1894e6a59ce020674&imageMogr2/format/webp)
