Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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The Prank That Broke Her
I was on my way to tell my boyfriend, Cooper, that I was pregnant. He was my savior, the man who rescued me after a brutal assault left me an orphan. But when I arrived at his penthouse, I overheard him talking to his sister, Kenya. My entire life was a lie. The assault wasn't random; it was a "prank" they had orchestrated so he could play the hero. It only got worse. Kenya tortured and killed my dog for "surgical practice," and Cooper defended her. They leaked a private video of me, destroying my reputation at school. When I tried to escape, Kenya sent thugs after me, and the attack caused me to miscarry our child. As I lay bleeding in the hospital, Cooper blamed me for losing the baby. He then told me the miscarriage had left me permanently infertile. His final demand was the cruelest. He said I had to "compensate" his sister for all the trouble I'd caused by donating one of my kidneys to her. But they had made one fatal mistake. They thought I was a powerless orphan. They didn't know I had just inherited a billion-dollar empire from a secret aunt. And I was about to use every penny to burn their world to the ground./0/86858/coverorgin.jpg?v=304780b31bf3b2c11bfc125dbda95da0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
When Ambition Destroys, Love Saves
My five-year relationship wasn't just with my CEO girlfriend, Olivia; it was with the company we built from scratch. I poured my heart into both, from the late nights debugging to the vision of an empire. Then her entitled nephew, Liam, an intern who knew nothing, pushed a catastrophic error into our live system. It was a million-dollar mistake that could cripple us. When I confronted him, he whined to his aunt. Olivia called me into her office, her voice cold. Liam sat there, feigning tears. She snapped that I was bullying her nephew, who was "just trying his best." Her solution? A choice: either I get demoted to Liam's personal assistant, mentoring him and taking full responsibility for his incompetence, or I clean out my desk and move out of our shared apartment. I signed my resignation, printing it from her own printer, and slid it onto her desk. "I choose option two," I said, handing back her apartment key. "We're done." Olivia, stunned, ripped up my resignation, screaming that I was fired. As I walked out, Liam, emboldened, pointed and yelled that everything was my fault, that I had sabotaged the company. I just kept walking./0/85763/coverorgin.jpg?v=4db0626b3177574de39ef0725d78c85a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
When Love Dies: A Family's Tragic End
The first thing I felt was the splintering pain in my back, a sharp, ugly ache. My art school interview, my one shot, was missed because a ladder slipped. Instead of concern, my adoptive parents, the Davises, stood over me and my ruined canvases, their faces masks of fury. "Stealing Emily's scholarship spot wasn't enough," my mother shrieked, "now you've sabotaged her art career? We never should have adopted you!" My father grabbed me, hauling me up despite my cry of pain, and dragged me to the attic, slamming the door shut with a deafening metallic click. The familiar dread of claustrophobia seized me. "Please," I gasped, pounding a weak fist against the door, "Please, don't. I can't… I can't breathe." But their footsteps faded, her words echoing: "She's just being dramatic." They left me there, trapped and forgotten, my pleas turning into choked sobs no one would hear. Days later, they discussed plans for Emily during their European vacation, dismissing the growing, sweet stench in the house as my mess. They never thought of me again, not for seven days, not until it was too late./0/81070/coverorgin.jpg?v=b232112d2947c22e1a0e52e2299551a9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Report That Broke Us
Four months pregnant, I was floating on cloud nine. My husband, David, held my hand as we walked into Dr. Peterson' s office. Today was the day for our baby' s genetic screening results – a joyful formality, we thought, confirming our perfect future. But the moment David scanned the detailed report, his happy face shattered. It drained of color, twisting into a mask of pure terror and bitter revulsion. "You need to have an abortion," he choked out, his voice utterly unrecognizable, fixed on the sterile pages. My own parents arrived, their expressions mirroring David' s grotesque horror. Without explanation, they drugged me, dragged me to a remote cabin, and forced a "medically induced miscarriage." I awoke weeks later in a high-end mental institution, labeled hysterical, my baby gone, my spirit utterly crushed. I had died there, surrounded by silence and indifference. What unspeakable secret was on that paper? What could turn my loving husband and doting parents into monsters who condemned me and my unborn child with such shocking cruelty? The betrayal was a wound deeper than any physical pain, leaving me with a burning, desperate question. Then, I gasped awake, clutching my pregnant belly. It hadn't happened yet. It was a premonition, a horrific, vivid nightmare. This time, I wouldn't be a passive victim. This time, I would get that report first. And this time, I would fight like hell./0/80288/coverorgin.jpg?v=6e5e38d2cfc4cb5cca7f15e01c3479fa&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Fiancé to Fiend, Sister to Slayer
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./1/103128/coverorgin.jpg?v=36c362853d663ff9c6770bc9f0c01c05&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Birthday, His Cruel Betrayal
On my 28th birthday, my superstar boyfriend, Jarrett, stood me up. He had to comfort his co-star, Kisha. A few hours later, I saw the paparazzi photo that ended our seven-year relationship. Jarrett was in a dimly lit bar, his arm wrapped around a tear-streaked Kisha, her head on his shoulder. The next morning, I confronted him. He insisted it was just "method acting." "She was just drunk," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Confessing her feelings for her character." He called me dramatic and paranoid for questioning him. He said I was throwing away seven years over a "stupid photo." It was the same gaslighting he'd used for years, wrapping his emotional infidelity in a pretty little "method acting" bow. But this time, I didn't cry. I felt a sudden, chilling calm. "I regret every second I wasted loving you," I told him. "We are over."/0/38676/coverorgin.jpg?v=bbf53ad7829f203d7481399e03b77d82&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Elevator
ELEVATOR BLURB Sometimes people do find love in a hopeless place, but it never comes without an emotional rollercoaster. Adrianna McPherson, the rebel heir to a Billion dollar business empire is forced to marry a man as equally ruthless as her father and even richer, another rebel heir to a Billion Dollar business empire. Adrianna and her areanged husband Lucas Shaul go through a loveless marriage, trauma, life threatening adventures and then find love. This is a tale of finding love in unexpected places, coming of age, rebellion and Outsmarting adversaries. You're in for a rollercoaster, more accurately an elevator ride of adventures from the McPherson's and the Shauls, this is Billionaire romance like you've never seen, rather—read before./1/103441/coverorgin.jpg?v=2afcf1a07cd407caaf96c1ff6ab1d1ae&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Rebirth: A Billionaire's Sweet Vow
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."/0/79037/coverorgin.jpg?v=6ccb985ffc460e226a1f1cc83e5336b5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
I Saved Her Life, He Chose Her Over Me
I was just a small-town Montana girl, fresh off the bus in New York, when I landed a paralegal gig at Sterling, Cromwell & Finch – the Everest of law firms. Then Ethan Sterling, the devastatingly handsome senior partner, noticed me. A kiss, a secret, an "arrangement." For four years, I was his dirty little secret, hidden in the shadows of his gleaming towers. But then Seraphina Blake, Ethan's long-lost love, returned, and I was instantly demoted from mistress to...convenience. Humiliated, framed for theft, I resigned, my career in flames. Why did I let him use me for so long? Was I really that blinded by his charm and power? How could I have been so stupid? Now, he needs me again. His precious Seraphina is desperate to win a charity dance competition, but her partner broke his leg. He wants me to step in, dance with her, pretend everything is fine. After all she did? Hell no! I'm done being convenient. I'm done being a placeholder. This time, I choose me. I'm going to expose Seraphina for the viper she is, and maybe, just maybe, find some real happiness in the process. Prepare for a showdown, NYC's elite, Montana's coming for you!/0/84043/coverorgin.jpg?v=aad763b1ba4a2a62c2472b5891dab070&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Inmate's Redemption: A Mob Boss's Debt
After six long years, I walked out of prison on my 30th birthday, ready to reclaim my life. Instead, my ex-husband, Ryan, arrived with his high school sweetheart, Gabby, who coldly informed me Ryan's sleek new Tesla had "Gabby's seat." My own son, Caleb, now ten, peered from the back, his eyes mirroring his father's icy gaze, asking why I was even trying to get into "Aunt Gabby's seat." Then came the demand: apologize to Gabby publicly for what I "did," or Caleb would forever believe I was a "crazy liar" who attacked Gabby, his "real mom." Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, a deliberate hit-and-run orchestrated by Gabby left me broken and vulnerable in a hospital bed, part of a sinister plan to fake amnesia and commit me to a mental institution permanently. How could the man I built an empire with, and my own child, be so utterly poisoned against me? But they underestimated me. Prison taught me how to survive, how to wait, and how to call in a forgotten favor from a dying mob boss. I'm Jocelyn, and the comeback they never saw coming just started./0/86546/coverorgin.jpg?v=c1f5f4a615ecb1143b0c14d824723219&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Penny-Pinching, My Power
The searing pain from my C-section was nothing compared to the shock of my husband' s first words. "Did the doctor give you the final bill? The C-section costs more. You need to cover it." I had just brought our daughter, Lily, into the world, a difficult birth that required emergency surgery to save her life. Yet, for Tom, it was simply an "extra cost" for my body. This was his idea of "AA parenting"-Active and Accountable, splitting every child-related expense down the middle. What I thought was a progressive vision of equality quickly morphed into a financial battlefield where every diaper, every ounce of formula, became an itemized debt. When we moved into my parents' house for recovery, hoping for support, Tom saw only a "cost-saving opportunity." He ate their food, used their electricity, and never offered a dime, all while sending me spreadsheets for Lily' s pacifier and baby lotion. He never changed a diaper. He never comforted his crying daughter. He just watched TV, claiming a "long day." It became agonizingly clear that in his eyes, he was merely a "financial partner" in a project he was already losing interest in. The final straw came when I overheard a neighbor revealing his true feelings: he' d wanted a boy, because it would be "simpler, cheaper in the long run." His penny-pinching wasn' t about equality; it was about the supposed "lesser investment" of a daughter. So, when he and his mother publicly shamed me on social media, accusing me of mental instability, I didn't hold back. I posted screenshots of his vile texts, exposing his calculated cruelty to the entire neighborhood. I was done being the silent victim. I was going to fight back, and I was going to win./0/39615/coverorgin.jpg?v=d120edfc595220e29f599bab7a546f88&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Labyrinth Of Hermes
One of the biggest confusions in what we call "love", is the way in which we interpret the other person. The human being is characterized by completing any lack of understanding or information, resorting to his useful imagination. A girl's greeting is a simple fact, empty, incomplete of features and details that offer no more than the mere image of the greeting. Even so, we perceive in it an irrefutable timbre of voice; an intensity and a weakness in its sound. We perceive certain characteristics of the personality of that person, although, nevertheless, these sources will never be enough for us; It will not be enough just to know the episode of the greeting, the courtesy, their education./1/115487/coverorgin.jpg?v=5c330fb823796c715b9b3d7da6d91dad&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Escaping The Obsessive Billionaire's Cage
For three years, I was imprisoned by Anderson Hopper, the monster who forced me to watch my fiancé, Kendall, plummet into a freezing river. But when I saw the morning news, I realized Kendall wasn't dead. He had returned as Eben Gill, a ruthless tech billionaire. I risked my life to escape and find him, only to be met with eyes full of absolute hatred. He publicly humiliated me, dragged me to the exact bridge where he "died," and sneered at the C-section scar on my stomach. "Anderson Hopper's bastard," he spat, completely unaware that the baby was actually his—the very child Anderson had murdered in the operating room to break me. To make matters worse, Anderson used Kendall's dying mother as a hostage to force me back into my cage. I knelt on the freezing asphalt, begging the man I loved to just visit his mother, while he coldly ordered his driver to run me over. I had lost my baby, my freedom, and my dignity, all to protect him from Anderson's blackmail. Why was I the one being tortured and treated like a traitor? "Don't think your little kneeling stunt earned you my forgiveness." He whispered those cruel words before walking away without looking back. Staring at his cold, retreating figure, the last shred of my love finally turned to ash. That night, under the cover of a torrential storm, I bypassed the estate's laser grids and walked out into the dark./0/83261/coverorgin.jpg?v=e30db038d961759d8b3257c80508f431&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Stale Beer, Sweet Vengeance
The Rusty Mug was a blur of noise and stale beer tonight. Game night, loud as ever. I wiped down the bar, going through the motions, surrounded by the same faces, the same routine. But the man behind the bar wasn't the same Jake anymore. A sudden shriek split the air near the back restrooms-a woman' s voice, sharp and furious. Whispers slithered through the crowd: "A teacher," "caught with another man." My co-bartender, Mark Olsen, a grin twisting his face, looked directly at me. With fake concern, he asked, "Hope it's not your Emily. She' s too sweet to be messing around, right?" He didn't know I knew exactly who it was. Nor did he know I' d already lived this agonizing chapter. Last time, Chloe, his fiancée, caught red-handed, had played the victim, begging sympathetic Emily for help. Kind, trusting Emily, rushed to her side. Only for Chloe to throw her under the bus, fabricating texts, spinning vicious rumors. The public shame, the loss of her job, broke Emily. She killed herself. Blinded by grief and rage, I confronted Mark, just before he shoved me down the back stairs. I remembered the sickening crack, and then… nothing. Until I woke up, months ago, back in this very life, this exact day now approaching. My Emily, gone forever. My own life, stolen. Why? Why had they gone unpunished, while we paid the ultimate price? This was my impossible second chance. To save Emily. To save myself. And this time, they were going to regret every single unforgivable thing they had ever done./1/104380/coverorgin.jpg?v=11008e6f3fb8107d204d8396f7c1c287&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Fixer's Secret: Taming My Husband
I spent three years playing the role of the perfect, silent wife to Julian Sterling, the most volatile billionaire in Manhattan. To the world, I was just a socialite; in reality, I was a high-stakes crisis negotiator known as "The Fixer," living a double life to survive a marriage that was nothing more than a cold, clinical contract. The illusion shattered when Julian publicly humiliated me at his private club, flaunting his mistress while his mother issued a brutal ultimatum: produce an heir by next week, or my family's remaining assets would be wiped out. But the true betrayal lay hidden in a secret file in my parents' safe. I wasn't chosen for love or status; I was a "genetic stabilizer," a biological filter purchased to breed the mental instability out of the Sterling bloodline. My own parents had sold me like a lab rat, trading my life to unfreeze their bank accounts. Julian treated me like a "slab of meat" while chasing the ghost of a woman named Seraphina, and my mother-in-law viewed my womb as nothing more than a corporate asset. I realized then that every person I had ever trusted had placed a bounty on my DNA. "I'm not jealous, Julian," I told him as he pinned me down in a hospital room, his eyes wild with the Sterling madness. "I'm just the one holding the bill." When a secret request came in for a "ghost negotiator" to defend Sterling Industries against a hostile takeover, I didn't turn it down. They had no idea that the elite specialist they were hiring to save their empire was the same wife they had spent years trying to break. I'm done being the cure for this family. This time, I'm the poison, and I'm going to make sure they pay every cent they owe me./1/119398/coverorgin.jpg?v=cdba0eda63d1f68922e726bbd2418526&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Rising From Ruin: The Billionaire's New Obsession
I came home a day early from a business trip, eager to surprise my husband of seven years. But when I opened our bedroom door, I found him sweating over his new junior associate. Before I could even process the shock, my mother-in-law walked in. She completely ignored me and went straight to the naked mistress to check on her unborn baby boy. Then, my husband tossed a divorce petition at my feet. He had secretly transferred every penny of our savings and our home into his mother's trust six months ago. "Take this and get out. Don't even think about fighting me for our daughter. You have no money and no job. No court will give you custody." He flicked a $5,000 check at me like I was a stray dog. Seven years of sacrificing my law career to be a homemaker, only to be caught in a meticulously planned trap. I was thrown out into a blizzard with nothing, later publicly mocked by his mistress and my former peers who laughed at my outdated clothes and empty resume. But they forgot one thing. Before I was his wife, I was the top graduate of Georgetown Law. I tore his pathetic check into pieces. Gripping the business card of a ruthless billionaire developer I had just outsmarted on the streets, I knew if the traditional law firms wouldn't open their doors for me, I would just kick them down./1/103285/coverorgin.jpg?v=ac555a08f9f63fecc5709399c9a367da&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Damaged Goods, A Priceless Return
After a fire stole my family and my voice, my boyfriend Jermain promised to be my shield. I was the silent composer behind our band's success, fighting to speak again-for him. Then I overheard him call me "damaged goods, a millstone around my neck." His betrayal escalated. He let his new flame publicly humiliate me, then abandoned me-injured and deafened-in a storm, calling me a "liability." The boy who promised to be my voice was gone. In his place was a stranger who saw me only as a burden he was tired of carrying. So I vanished. Three years later, with my voice and hearing restored, I returned not as a victim, but as a celebrated artist. He's back, begging for a second chance, but he's about to learn that the "damaged goods" he threw away are now priceless./0/81071/coverorgin.jpg?v=e30f14cd46d306201fa95b22c2ef7ea6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Don't Underestimate The Heiress
My life in Austin was comfortable, idyllic even. My parents owned a successful chain of organic cafes, and I was five months pregnant, planning a future with Kevin, the man I thought was different. Then, sitting in our apartment, his mom Karen watched like a hawk as Kevin slid a "Domestic Partnership Agreement" across the coffee table. Its terms were chilling: I'd waive all rights to his property, any large financial gifts from my wealthy parents would become "joint assets" solely managed by him, and marriage was indefinitely deferred. My stomach twisted. What I thought was a loving partnership revealed itself as a calculated heist. Karen, who cooed about baby names last week, now had eyes small and calculating, her voice flatly stating it was "to protect Kevin." They conveniently forgot my parents paid for our entire lives. They saw me as a naive rich girl, easily separated from her family's money. It wasn't smart; it was a brazen attempt at extortion. How could he, and his mother, be so utterly devoid of decency, treating me like a walking ATM? But under the shock, a cold clarity formed. The devastation transformed into a fierce resolve. I wouldn't just walk away; I would make them pay. Feigning agreement, I proposed signing their predatory document after my parents' generous baby shower gift. Then, I called my lawyer best friend, Chloe. "You are not going to believe what these parasites just tried to pull," I told her, knowing exactly what came next: it was time for a plan, and for them to burn./0/88580/coverorgin.jpg?v=d10f292b80681ae028979f0df00f3d3e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
You Live the Rest of Your Life on Your Own
On the day Colby married Ruben the heir to the Gibson Group, not a single member of the Gibson family attended the wedding to offer their blessings. Only Brenda, Ruben's grandmother, made a phone call to her. "Want to make a bet? If, by the third year, you both are still in love, I will persuade the Gibson family to accept you. On the contrary, you must leave Ruben, and I will find him a woman whose family status aligns better with his." Colby agreed confidently. Ruben loved her as if his life depended on it, even willing to cut off his family for her. How could their love not last three years? But she never anticipated that in the third year of their marriage, Ruben would betray her./1/100626/coverorgin.jpg?v=4921e13460a96ca75f5de853555cf5a5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
