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Young Adult Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
When Good Backfires: A Student's Vengeance

When Good Backfires: A Student's Vengeance

My college life as a pre-med student at a California state university was focused on rigorous studies, good grades, and upholding personal integrity, shared with my best friend Olivia and our free-spirited roommate, Jessica. The facade of normalcy shattered when Jessica reappeared after a three-day disappearance, clutching my personal water bottle, her neck and arms covered in unsettling red welts, all while boasting about dodging crucial health screenings. My attempt to responsibly report her for avoiding mandatory health checks spiraled disastrously: Jessica, fueled by rage, staged a dramatic escape and, aided by her ethically compromised academic advisor, Dr. Peterson, orchestrated a fake cyberbullying charge against me. Suddenly, my reputation was on the line due to a formal disciplinary warning, making me the campus pariah. How could doing the right thing backfire so spectacularly, leaving me accused and shamed, while actual recklessness went unchecked? The injustice was a bitter pill, confirming my deepest suspicions about Jessica's manipulative nature and the disturbing, illicit alliance she clearly shared with Dr. Peterson. But instead of breaking me, this unfair attack ignited a cold fury, transforming my disgust into a calculated resolve: I would expose their corrupt web, even if it meant playing their game, starting with a discreet "accident" in Dr. Peterson's office.
From Ashes: My Unclaimed Life

From Ashes: My Unclaimed Life

At just ten years old, my life in the sleepy, fading town of Oakhaven was unremarkable. We were a hardworking family, simple and honest, clinging to the quiet hopes for a decent future. Then Brittany Evans, who lived just a few houses down, cornered me by the old park swingset. Her voice was too grave for a child, her eyes too knowing. She declared, "Everything good that's supposed to happen to you? It's mine now. I'm taking it all." She claimed to be reincarnated, privy to the "original script" of my life. And she proceeded to steal it. My father' s long-awaited promotion, my mother' s cherished dream of a small business, even my crucial college scholarship-all systematically diverted to Britt or her parents. When a devastating flood wiped out our home and savings, Britt merely smirked, claiming it was her "prediction," clearing the way for her own gains. We were left with nothing, forced to abandon the town. How could one family so consistently snatch away every opportunity? Was Britt genuinely disturbed, or was there an unsettling truth to her chilling pronouncements? The utter injustice, the persistent feeling of being targeted by an unseen force, left me confused, isolated, and raw with a burning, desperate rage. But as we left Oakhaven, facing an uncertain future, a fierce determination rose within me. Britt thought she' d stolen my fate. She was wrong. I would build a new life, brick by brick, far from her reach. A life she could never, ever claim as her own.
When Charity Turns Deadly

When Charity Turns Deadly

The last thing I saw was the Chicago skyline rushing up to meet me. Then, merciful darkness. Now, blinding sunlight streamed through a window, hitting my face as I lay in my university dorm room. My head throbbed with a pain far deeper than a physical fall. It was the brutal, horrifying memory of my parents, David and Susan Miller. Their kind faces, now hauntingly overlaid with images of their blood on the polished floors of our beautiful Chicago home. They were murdered. And the architect of that devastation? Brittany Evans, the very scholarship student my generous parents had taken under their wing, hailed as their "charity case." Her smile, so sickeningly sweet and fake, her boyfriend Spike's cruel, calculating eyes, haunted my every waking thought. She had meticulously orchestrated their downfall: the forged will, the baseless accusations leveled against me. I endured the looks of disgust, the complete abandonment from everyone I had ever known. The crushing despair consumed me, pushing me to the desperate, final leap. How could such an act of profound kindness be repaid with such heinous betrayal and wanton violence? How could I have been utterly blind, so incredibly naive, to allow my entire family, my entire life, to be so mercilessly dismantled, ending in that horrific, unjust way for all of us? The injustice burned. But then, I sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for air. My hands flew to my throat, my chest. I was whole. Alive. It was the first week of freshman year. Again. I had been granted a second chance, and this time, a cold, unyielding rage, something I' d never felt in my first, naive life, settled deep in my bones. Brittany Evans would not win.
Love Forged in Flames of Hate

Love Forged in Flames of Hate

The fire consumed everything. It wasn' t an accident. I lit it myself, watching the flames devour the apartment where I' d cried for so many nights, wiping away the misery. Across the room, Tiffany Chen, my former roommate and so-called friend, was tied to a chair, her eyes wide with terror, her expensive clothes torn and dirty. She was the one who lured me, a naive college kid struggling with tuition and rent, into her family' s predatory online loan scheme. She promised quick cash, easy approval, a solution to all my problems. Instead, the money never materialized, the interest rates ballooned to illegal levels, and the "online loan" turned into a hundred-thousand-dollar nightmare. When I couldn't pay, she forced me into her family' s "club" -a hellhole where rich men paid to do whatever they wanted, and I was just another girl forced to endure their hands. But that wasn't enough. She released photos and videos of me online, sending them to my university and my quiet hometown. The shame broke my parents; my father died of a heart attack, and my mother drowned herself a week later. With nothing left to lose, I found Tiffany, doused her apartment in gasoline, and watched her scream as the flames reached her. Then, a blinding light, a jolt, and I gasped awake, not in a burning apartment, but in my old dorm room. Tiffany Chen sat at her desk, putting on makeup, looking young, happy, and completely innocent. "Bad dream?" she asked, with the same smile that started my nightmare. The date on her digital clock confirmed it: I was back at the very beginning. This time, I was ready to play a different game.
The Roommate From Hell

The Roommate From Hell

My college life started with a simple rule from my roommate, Mark: "We split everything fifty-fifty, Alex. It' s the only fair way." I soon learned his definition of "fair" was a twisted, one-way street designed for his benefit, starting with my Dr. Pepper and escalating to demanding half the cost of my brand new MacBook. He' d use my things, then insist I pay him for the privilege, always with the same infuriating phrase: "It's only fair, Alex. We AA it." I was trapped, spending every day swatting away his increasingly absurd demands, from "sleep taxes" to "sunlight fees," all while the university' s housing office dismissed my pleas, saying they couldn' t help without a "documented, serious incident." Then he decided to create one himself, turning his petty schemes into a public spectacle that would ruin my reputation. I rushed to the Student Life building to find Mark slumped in a chair, crying theatrical tears, while a mountain of expensive groceries sat before him. He pointed a trembling finger at me, wailing, "He made me buy all this food and then refused to pay! I don' t have any money left!" The school counselor, Mr. Harrison, listened, his face etched with concern, while the crowd whispered, judging me. They saw an unfeeling rich kid, a jerk who' d exploited his poor roommate, all based on Mark' s carefully orchestrated performance. I felt a hot surge of anger, a hundred rebuttals caught in my throat; I was on trial and already convicted. But this time, I wasn' t going to just take it: "I' m not paying one cent, Mr. Harrison, because he didn' t use his money. He used mine."