Sheelagh Sexton
14 Published Stories
Sheelagh Sexton's Books and Stories
Rebirth: A Sister's Betrayal
Fantasy 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.' Beyond His Billion Dollar Regret
Romance My fiancé, Arthur Mckay, had just beaten leukemia. A bone marrow transplant saved his life, and we were supposed to be planning our engagement party, celebrating our future.
Then she walked in. Diana, the donor's beautiful, fragile ex-girlfriend. Arthur became obsessed, claiming he had "cellular memory" and that the donor's cells were compelling him to protect her.
He postponed our wedding plans for her. He let her invade our home, touching my art, sleeping in my robe. He called me possessive and cruel when I protested. The man who once promised to cherish me was gone, replaced by a stranger who used a medical procedure as an excuse for his cruelty.
The final straw was my mother's locket, the only thing I had left of her. Diana saw it and decided she wanted it, weeping that her dead boyfriend had owned one just like it.
When I refused, Arthur's face hardened. "Don't be a child," he ordered. "Give it to her."
He didn't wait for my answer. He strode forward and ripped the chain from my neck, the metal stinging my skin.
He fastened my mother's locket around Diana's throat. "This is a punishment, Ella," he said calmly. "Maybe now you'll learn some compassion."
As he wrapped a protective arm around her and led her away, I knew the man I loved was truly dead. I picked up my phone, my decision made.
"Dad," I said, my voice steady. "I'm coming home." Love, Lies, and a Fatal Dog
Romance My world shattered with a frantic phone call: my mother had been attacked by a dog. I rushed to the emergency room, only to find her gravely injured, and my fiancé, Cohen, dismissive and annoyed.
He arrived in his expensive suit, barely glancing at my bleeding mother before complaining about his interrupted meeting. "What's all the fuss? I was in the middle of a meeting." He then shockingly defended the dog, Caesar, belonging to his childhood friend Hillary, claiming it was "just playful" and my mother "probably scared him."
The doctor spoke of "severe lacerations" and infection, but Cohen only saw an inconvenience. Hillary, the dog's owner, appeared, feigning concern while smirking triumphantly at me. Cohen wrapped an arm around her, declaring it "not your fault, Hillary. It was an accident." He then announced he was still going on his "billion-dollar business trip" to Zurich, telling me to send the hospital bill to his assistant.
Two days later, my mother died from the infection. While I was arranging her funeral, picking out her burial clothes, and writing a eulogy I couldn't read, Cohen was unreachable. His phone was off.
Then, an Instagram notification popped up: a picture of Cohen and Hillary on a yacht in the Maldives, champagne in hand, with the caption: "Living the good life in the Maldives! Spontaneous trips are the best! #blessed #zurichwho?" He wasn't on a business trip. He was on a lavish vacation with the woman whose dog had killed my mother.
The betrayal was a physical blow. All his promises, his love, his concern-all lies. Kneeling at my mother's grave, I finally understood. My sacrifices, my hard work, my love-all for nothing. He had abandoned me in my darkest hour for another woman. It was over. Divorce Over Two-Fifty
Modern "That will be two dollars and fifty cents," the ice cream vendor chirped, a cheerful end to a warm afternoon.
My daughter, Lily, beamed up at me, eyes wide for a rainbow-sprinkled cone.
But before my fingers found my wallet, a cold voice cut through the air.
"What do you think you' re doing, Ava?"
It was Leo, my husband, arms crossed, face a mask of disapproval.
He shamed me, publicly, over two dollars and fifty cents.
"It' s the principle," he snapped, throwing a five-dollar bill at the vendor. "Consider this an advance. Transfer me one dollar and twenty-five cents by tonight. I' ll be checking."
My face burned, my heart twisting as Lily clung to me.
That night, I overheard his voice, warm and indulgent, on the phone.
"Of course, Sophia. You liked the red one? I' ll have it delivered to your new place tomorrow."
He was buying his stepsister a penthouse, showering her with gifts, yet demanding I pay for half of our daughter' s ice cream.
The contrast was a physical blow. His love, his generosity, was for someone else.
Later, in my small art studio, I typed a search: "divorce papers."
I downloaded the forms, each keystroke heavy, final.
When I placed the stack on his nightstand, he finally looked up, disbelief twisting his face into an ugly laugh.
"A divorce? Don' t be ridiculous. Is this about the car I bought Sophia? Are you that jealous?"
"It' s about the ice cream," I said, my voice steady, empty of the tears I' d held back all day.
He scoffed, tossing the papers aside.
"The ice cream? You want to end our marriage over two dollars and fifty cents? Ava, you' re being hysterical."
He didn't know yet. This wasn't hysteria. It was the quiet, steel-edged birth of a rebellion. Revenge Wears A New Face
Billionaires For five years, I was Julian Vance' s shadow, known only as his fiercely loyal assistant, but my dedication was a meticulously crafted lie.
My real mission was to avenge my sister, Sarah, an environmental activist Julian' s company silenced after she uncovered their toxic secrets.
Today, I walked out, my resignation a symbol of triumph as I held the USB drive with the evidence that would finally expose him at his grand charity gala.
But then, as I stood ready to unleash the truth, I instinctively shoved him from the path of a falling stage light, shattering my hand, my ribs, and my five-year plan.
Instead of gratitude, I received his cold dismissal, then Julian' s glamorous fiancée, Isabella, ordered his security to drown me, leaving me for dead in a freezing warehouse.
Julian, seeing me struggle, simply watched Isabella whisper in his ear before they turned their backs and walked away, abandoning me without a second thought.
I survived, only to have Julian demand I cover up his complicity, publicly discrediting me as "reckless" while Isabella played the hero and he played the concerned boss.
Why did he abandon me like a broken doll, only to then use my pain for his public image?
I was invisible, disposable, and I knew then that the truth wasn't enough; my revenge would be a personal one, meticulously planned.
I disappeared, only to be dragged back to a horrifying auction where Julian and Isabella sold me like property, but I refused to be his victim any longer.
My carefully built facade of loyalty shattered, not just for him, but for myself; I was done fighting his battles, living in his shadow, and now, finally, I was going to live for me. Seeing True, Seeing Deep
Romance The world was an ugly place, full of bland perfection, but I saw beauty in decay-a dead pigeon, a cracked wall.
Everyone else called my unique perception disgusting; it cost me my job at the bakery for finding art in a burnt loaf.
Now, an eviction notice on my door threatened to take my apartment, pushing me to the brink of despair.
Why was my genuine appreciation for the world' s true textures met with such revulsion, forcing me into a corner for simply seeing differently?
Then, a bizarre ad for "Crimson Peak Apartments" appeared, promising a "unique living environment" at an unbelievably low price, compelling me to take a chance on a place as strange as my own heart. The Billionaire's Fury
Billionaires I was on my private Caribbean island, living the dream retirement of a tech billionaire, confident my gentle son, Caleb, was safe at home in Palo Alto, surrounded by the loyal friends I' d funded and cherished. I' d built a fortress of care for him.
Then, a garish headline flashed on my screen: "SILICON VALLEY HEIR CALEB HUGHES, 18, TO WED REAL ESTATE SHARK DEBRA CLARKSON, 55. A LOVE STORY OR A HOSTILE TAKEOVER?" The accompanying photo showed my son, pale and lost, next to a woman old enough to be his grandmother, her hand possessively on his shoulder. My blood ran cold; this wasn't possible.
I immediately flew home, my fury matched only by a growing dread. The moment I stepped onto my estate, a familiar, toxic fescue grass covered the lawn – a severe allergen for Caleb – and the faces awaiting me were smug, not worried. Andrew, the son of my late partner, and the three girls I' d raised like my own, smirked, talking about Caleb's "scandal" and how they were "managing" his impending forced marriage to Debra Clarkson.
My heart shattered as Caleb limped down the stairs, gaunt, covered in an allergic rash, his eyes hollow. They claimed his injuries were from a skateboarding accident and self-harm, that he was "difficult" and "infertile," spinning a web of lies to blame him for his own torment. How could the people I trusted betray us so completely? Why would they do this to an innocent boy?
But when Debra Clarkson brazenly walked in, and she and Andrew openly planned to take over my family and fortune, then dared to lay a hand on my son, something snapped. They thought I was a washed-up genius on an island. They were about to learn Nathaniel Hughes was far from finished. The Widow's Deadly Secret
Horror Six months into rebuilding her life, single mom Sarah is proposed to by Mark, a kind widower.
Her heart, long dormant, finally warms as Mark proposes, surrounded by their hopeful children.
But then, a terrifying premonition: a camping trip with Mark's daughter, Lily, turns deadly as Lily summons hordes of venomous spiders to kill Sarah and her son, Leo, coldly whispering, "No one gets to be Daddy's favorite but me and my real mom."
Sarah gasps awake, back at the proposal, the chilling memory of venom and Lily' s malevolence still vivid.
With a shudder, Sarah rejects Mark, baffling him and infuriating his family, who brand her cruel, while Lily's angelic facade cracks to reveal a glimpse of pure, icy fury.
Lily, however, won't be deterred; she stalks Sarah, hacking Leo's smartwatch and staging a manipulative late-night scene that traps Sarah into letting her inside.
The nightmare escalates when Lily kidnaps Leo from his after-school program, and Sarah discovers Mark's shocking history: all his previous girlfriends, and even his wife, died from mysterious "spider bites."
Sarah' s confusion turns into a cold fury, realizing Mark isn't just oblivious but complicit, enabling his daughter's monstrous trail of victims.
Lily' s voice, relayed by a tarantula-borne recorder, demands Sarah come alone to an abandoned quarry, threatening Leo with a spider attack.
Knowing the police will only escalate the danger, Sarah races towards the quarry, ready to face the truth and fight for her son' s life. The Heiress They Tried to Bury
Billionaires For three years, I poured every ounce of myself into Liam's tech dream, working multiple jobs to keep a roof over our heads.
Tonight was the night I'd finally tell him my own life-altering secret: I was Ava Vance, the long-lost, presumed-dead heiress to the colossal Sterling-Vance empire.
I believed in him, utterly.
But he didn't walk in alone.
He arrived with a stunning, polished woman named Chloe, arm-in-arm, and then dropped the bomb: she was his fiancée, and her father was his lead investor.
He looked at me, his eyes cold and dismissive.
"I'm leaving you," he stated flatly, then mocked our entire relationship, calling me just a "housekeeper" and an "embarrassment."
When Chloe spilled wine on herself, Liam forced me to my knees to apologize to her like a maid.
The ultimate betrayal came when he returned later, poisoned me to destroy my voice, and dragged my limp body into our cold, damp basement dungeon to keep me quiet.
From my prison, I overheard them coldly plotting to frame me as delusional and commit me to a psychiatric hospital forever.
The man I had loved and sacrificed everything for was a monster, systematically ripping away my very existence.
Every lie, every calculated cruelty, twisted into a horrifying full picture.
But they seriously underestimated the woman they thought they'd silenced.
Just as two thugs came to haul me away, I found the strength to activate the emergency beacon hidden in my Sterling-Vance necklace.
They believed I was a "lost cause," but they were about to face the terrifying wrath of the Sterling-Vance empire. The Billionaire's Deadly Game
Romance Ava Miller was a rising Hollywood starlet, on the verge of landing her dream role in a major film, with her supportive producer boyfriend, Ethan Reed, by her side.
She believed he was her rock, her unwavering champion in a cutthroat industry.
Suddenly, a bombshell from TMZ exploded: "EXCLUSIVE: Rising Star Ava Miller's Wild Night Out - Intimate Photos Leaked!"
Ava' s stomach dropped, but the true terror struck when she overheard Ethan, her supposed protector, confessing to orchestrating the entire smear campaign, designed to ruin her and clear the path for another actress.
Her reputation was instantly shattered, her dream role snatched away. Ethan then paraded his new muse, Isabelle Vance, publicly, openly mocking Ava.
His betrayals escalated to chilling cruelty: allowing Isabelle to destroy Ava's cherished family heirloom, gifting Ava a "healing" cream secretly designed to permanently scar her face, and in a twisted act of horror, facilitating the amputation of Ava's finger as a transplant for Isabelle after a set fire.
Amidst this escalating torment, Ava' s memories of a past life shattered her reality. She was his wife then, too, but he was always obsessed with Isabelle.
Now reborn, Ethan was brutally replaying that obsession, deliberately using Ava as a disposable pawn, inflicting unimaginable pain to "correct" his past.
The depth of his malice was incomprehensible, a cold fury consuming her.
But from the ashes of her destroyed life, Ava chose to rise.
She underwent reconstructive surgery, embraced a new identity as Eve Ashton, and meticulously planned her escape to London, vowing to forge a new, unburdened existence, free from Ethan' s suffocating, toxic grasp. From Ghost to King: The Montgomery's Vengeance
Billionaires I'm Ethan Montgomery, son of tech moguls.
In a life I barely lived, I extended naive kindness to Kyle Johnson, our housekeeper's son, by giving him a supplementary Amex card. A small help, I thought.
He used it like a magic wand. Kyle became the campus philanthropist, "donating" labs and AC with my money. He'd smirk, making me feel indebted for letting him build his empire using my funds.
It climaxed when he claimed my cherry-red graduation muscle car. When I tried to tell the truth, his "fans" turned, screaming, "Liar! Thief!" They shoved me, fists flew. My reputation shattered. I became a pariah.
I gathered proof to expose him. But Kyle couldn't let his world crumble.
His aunt, a construction manager, violently swerved her truck into my car.
Metal screamed. Glass shattered.
Pain, then darkness.
Kyle, my "grieving best friend," then stole my entire inheritance, my life.
A gasp tore from my throat. My eyes snapped open.
I was in the university conference room.
Dean Thompson beamed, Kyle Johnson, triumphant, signed the "Innovation Lab" agreement.
The exact moment.
This time? My fingers, steady, fumbled for my phone. "Supplementary cards. Kyle Johnson. Deactivate. Confirm." The Comeback Engineer: No More Second Chances
Modern At NovaFlight Dynamics, I was "the guy who couldn't get his fiancée to the altar." Alex Miller. My fiancée, Jessica Thorne, a co-founder, had canceled our wedding thirty-two times. I poured my genius into NovaFlight' s critical satellite launch, always putting her first, even as the 33rd date loomed.
She canceled again, for Leo Maxwell, a junior engineer. That night, at the pre-launch party, Jessica, radiant, openly fed Leo a canapé. He flashed a new luxury smartwatch, mirroring hers. On our seven-year anniversary, Leo's Instagram showed them clinking champagne glasses: "Celebrating a successful partnership!"
I resigned, publicly terminating our engagement. Jessica, smelling of Leo' s cologne, abandoned me for his 'crisis.' My engagement ring? Tossed aside. I threw it in the trash. At the office, Leo 'accidentally' destroyed my personal research laptop with corrosive solvent. Jessica witnessed it, then shrieked, blaming me and demanding I credit Leo for my groundbreaking designs.
My very dignity was systematically dismantled. My dedication, my love, my future-all casually destroyed. The future she spoke of was a cruel, hollow joke.
A dark government vehicle waited. I powered down my old phone as her casual 'raincheck' text buzzed one last time. I stepped into the car without a single look back. This wasn't an end; it was finally, unequivocally, my beginning. Waking Up to Her True Face
Romance Ethan Miller, a Seattle software architect, woke in a cold sweat, his heart hammering. His wife, Olivia, slept peacefully beside him, unaware.
The calendar showed it was ten years earlier, their first year of marriage, but he’d just lived through a terrifying premonition: Olivia, supposedly dead for two years, reappeared in an Alaskan lodge with another man, Liam, confessed a harrowing regret, then died again.
The dream's raw pain and phantom ache of betrayal clung to him, chilling his once-normal mornings.
Soon, the nightmare began to bleed into his present. Olivia's late nights grew more frequent, her phone calls hushed. He caught glimpses of a new, unfamiliar perfume.
Then, the undeniable truth: witnessing her outside an upscale restaurant, laughing intimately with a young man, Liam Vance, his heart-stoppingly familiar face mirroring the one in his dream.
A small park rendezvous sealed it—a public, passionate kiss, Liam’s smug gaze, Olivia captivated. The illusion of his loving wife shattered with sickening finality.
But the worst was yet to come. Hiding in plain sight, Ethan overheard Olivia giddily discussing Liam, dismissing him as "boring," and chillingly, casually discussing his life insurance policy. "Enough to start fresh, really fresh."
His blood ran cold. The woman he had adored, trusted implicitly, was gone, replaced by a calculating stranger.
All he felt was a profound, wrenching injustice, a searing bewilderment. He was a fool.
But Olivia’s contempt and calculated cruelty would not go unpunished. No longer a naive, trusting fool, Ethan, armed with this terrifying future knowledge, made a quiet, chilling decision.
He picked up his phone, his fingers trembling, and called his shrewd Aunt Carol in London. It was time to orchestrate his own disappearance, to rewrite his destiny. The Wolf King's Life As An Olympian
Modern Sure! Here’s the translation:
---
I am a wolf from the north, but unexpectedly, I became a bench player who didn't make it to the Olympics.
"They're crawling, why are they so slow?"
Audience: "Did he install a motor? This speed is insane!"
National sprint team coach: "Switch events, he's a good prospect!"
After being eliminated, everyone was waiting for me to voluntarily leave the team.
But in a friendly match, when I got on as a substitute, I ran like the wind and scored wildly.
From then on, I soared to new heights and was promoted to team captain.
Until the off-season when I was dragged into a reality show.
Netizens: "Help! Please blur his voice and face, and his abs!"
"Get away, hubby! I want to have your baby!"
I retweeted and tagged the new TV queen, "Sorry, in our wolf clan, we practice lifelong monogamy."
---
Let me know if you need anything else! You might like
Apocalypse Expert in a Beastman World
Out Of Town Genevieve woke up choking on her own blood, a fatal gash tearing through her abdomen. The memories of a primitive world crashed into her mind—she had transmigrated into the body of a sadistic beastman Mistress.
But the five powerful beastmen "mates" standing over her hadn't come to her rescue. They had come to watch their tormentor die.
"We should just leave her," Kameron sneered coldly. "The scavengers will clean up the mess."
Gilberto spat in disgust, while Angelo, a silver-scaled snake-man, trembled in pure terror at the sight of her. The original owner had whipped them, humiliated them, and driven another mate to suicide. Now, they were letting her bleed out in the mud, their eyes filled with undisguised loathing and satisfaction.
She was a top-tier apocalyptic survival expert, yet here she was, paying the ultimate price for a stranger's monstrous sins. It was a bitter, unacceptable irony to die helplessly in the dirt while her supposed protectors waited for her corpse to rot.
She refused to accept this ending.
Forcing a chaotic surge of energy through their shared Biological Link, she brought all five men to their knees in agonizing pain, commanding them to carry her back. In the dark cave, without a single scream, she plunged her bare hands into a fire and brutally cauterized her own gaping wound with searing ash. As the beastmen stared in horrified awe at the unbreakable soul now occupying the tyrant's body, Genevieve wiped the blood from her face and began to rewrite her fate. 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. Healing My Seven Broken Beast Mates
Rabbit My retirement was finally approved, and I was supposed to be sipping drinks on a sunny beach.
Instead, a cold system voice forced me into a nightmare scenario: "Cursed Mates Who Want Me Dead." I woke up in a stinking cave, trapped in the body of a psychopathic tribal princess.
The memories that flooded my brain made me sick. The original owner of this body had forcibly marked seven of the continent's most powerful beast-men and reduced them to tortured pets. She had ripped the shimmering scales off Jordi the Merfolk prince, gouged out a proud wolf-man's power crystal, and snapped an eagle-man's magnificent wings.
Now, Jordi was a mutilated, terrified mess hiding in a corner. He was so traumatized that he tried to slit his own throat just to escape me. His sister was actively trying to assassinate me.
To make matters worse, the system warned me that if I didn't heal these seven ticking time bombs, my soul would be erased. Yet the future timeline clearly showed that these men would eventually unite, burn my tribe to the ground, and dismember me alive.
I was paying for a monster's sins. Every time I tried to show mercy, they thought it was a sick new torture method. Words were useless, and my very presence was a trigger.
But I am a Tier-S operative, and I don't play the victim. I forced the system to unlock my powers and strapped on my tactical gear.
"Stay here and don't starve."
I left the trembling Merfolk behind and walked into the deadly primitive forest, heading straight for the powerful Oasis Tribe to take back his stolen scales by force. Reborn As The Beastmen's Wicked Wife
Rabbit Isolde woke up in a freezing, ruined stone house with a splitting headache and only five percent of her life signs remaining.
Before she could even process the mechanical system voice in her head, a flood of violent memories slammed into her.
She had transmigrated into the body of a cruel noblewoman who mercilessly tortured her beastmen husbands with a barbed whip.
And right now, she was lying in a pool of her own blood, having been shoved against the stone floor by one of them.
Outside the rickety door, her husbands were coldly discussing her death.
"Just go in and finish her. One stab, and we're free."
"If she hit her head and died on her own, then it's an accident. We walk out of here as free males."
To test if she was faking her sudden amnesia, the snake beastman Dangelo even ground his heavy military boot into her injured hand, waiting for her to snap so he could legally end her.
She was poisoned, freezing, and entirely at the mercy of the men who deeply despised her.
She was bearing the deadly consequences of a monster she never was, with a red system warning of imminent death flashing in her mind.
But they didn't know the new Isolde had awakened a survival system and Life Magic.
She swore a blood oath to the Beast God to buy herself three months of time.
Then, she turned her sights to the dying wolf beastman chained in the shed, deciding to pull him back from hell to become her very first shield. Reborn To Love My Wheelchair Billionaire
Hu Minxue Aubree pushed Ezra down the grand staircase, crippling the only man who silently protected her.
She thought she was finally escaping his control to be with her true love, Foster Newton.
But she had no idea it was a vicious trap meticulously set by Newton and her sweet, innocent cousin, Brandi.
Once Ezra was driven out of New York in despair, Aubree's life became a living hell. Her father completely disowned her. Brandi smoothly took over her home and her millions in inheritance.
"You were just a stepping stone for us, Aubree."
That was the last thing Newton sneered before leaving her to die.
Lying on the freezing floor, her warm blood pooling in her palms, Aubree finally saw the horrifying truth. She had destroyed her own family and ruined the one man who genuinely cared for her, all for a pair of greedy parasites.
Endless regret and suffocating hatred consumed her fading consciousness. Why was she so blind? Why did she let them manipulate her into destroying her own life?
Then, her eyes snapped open.
A violent wave of dizziness hit her. She looked down at her pale, flawless hands. There were no deep cuts. There was no sticky blood.
She was back. She had miraculously returned to the exact night she pushed Ezra, just two hours before his private jet was scheduled to leave forever.
Hearing her father's furious roar outside her bedroom door, Aubree didn't cower.
She wiped the smeared makeup from her face, her eyes turning dead cold. This time, she was going to make Ezra stay, and she was going to send those leeches straight to hell. Apocalypse Rebirth: My Gold-Eating System
Quye Xiaofang She died in the apocalypse—betrayed, abandoned, and torn apart by the infected.
Then she woke up. Two months before the end of the world. Twenty-two years old again. And on her wrist, a wooden bracelet that her mother had left behind.
The bracelet came with a system. A system that eats gold.
With enough gold, she can unlock infinite storage for food, water, weapons—anything she needs to survive. The super-hurricane, the floods, the insect plagues, the volcanic winter, the scorching heat… she knows exactly what's coming.
While the world sleeps, Joanna shops. She drains her aunt's bank account, maxes out every loan she can find, and buys out half the city. The apocalypse is coming. She'll be ready.
But when the chaos begins, the wolves come crawling back—relatives who sold her, friends who betrayed her, a father who abandoned her. They want her food. Her water. Her mercy.
Joanna has a different plan.
"Why don't you decide who dies first?" Reborn To Ruin My Betraying Fiancé
Benjamen Ernst Caryn lay pinned beneath concrete slabs in the apocalyptic ruins, a steel rebar crushing her chest.
Her fiancé, Ford, knelt in the narrow gap above her, completely unharmed.
"Sorry, babe. It's a new world. Survival of the fittest."
He sneered, twisting the cap off their last bottle of purified water. He drank it all, wiped his mouth with a clean hand, and told her she would just waste it.
He had manipulated her into signing over her uncle's house—her only defensible shelter—just to sell it for cash.
Now, as a violent aftershock ground the concrete down to crush her completely, Ford scrambled away without a single backward glance.
For five brutal years of starvation and injury, she had clung to him and her grandmother's antique locket, only to die betrayed and full of agonizing regret.
Why had she been so foolish to trade her survival for a lie?
A gasp of frigid air flooded her lungs, and her eyes flew open to a smooth, white ceiling.
She wasn't in the dusty ruins; she was in her pristine silk bed sheets.
She grabbed her phone, her hands trembling as she stared at the date on the screen.
It was exactly thirty days before the world would crack apart.
She looked at the silver locket in her hand, a diamond-hard rage crystallizing in her chest.
This time, she would activate its secret, and she would bleed Ford and his family dry before the apocalypse even began. Claimed By The Possessive Silver Wolf
Evie Schoofs I was just hiking in Yosemite, but I woke up in a primitive forest with two moons and giant, mutated beasts.
Before I could even process the shock, I was attacked by a monstrous saber-toothed tiger, only to be saved by a massive silver wolf who suddenly transformed into a fiercely possessive, completely naked man named Caleb.
He claimed me as his own and carried me to his sprawling beast-man tribe. But the moment we arrived, I became the target of vicious ridicule. Jana, the tribe's most fertile female, pointed at my unmarked skin and publicly humiliated me.
"She has no mate marks! She's a barren waste, useless for breeding!"
Hearing this, the hundreds of beast-men who had just been eyeing me with lust instantly stepped back in disgust. In this twisted, animalistic society, a female's worth was tied entirely to her ability to produce strong cubs.
I stood there shivering, terrified and degraded, reduced to nothing but a defective piece of meat. I braced myself for the inevitable, waiting for Caleb to realize my worthlessness and throw me out to be torn apart by the wild.
Instead, a terrifying, suffocating aura exploded from his body, bringing the entire tribe to their knees. He swatted the fertile female away in disgust, scooped me into his arms, and turned his back on the camp.
"She is my only mate," he declared, his ice-blue eyes promising violence to anyone who dared to look at me. 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.' Reborn And Remade: The Exiled Matriarch
Amelia Rivers A jagged spike of agony woke Kiana up in a filthy stone room.
She had transmigrated into the body of a notorious, exiled matriarch in a brutal wasteland.
Before she could even process her new reality, she saw a massive, bloodied man huddled in the corner, trembling in absolute terror.
Foreign memories detonated in her brain: the original Kiana swinging a spiked whip, laughing as she tore his flesh open.
He was her husband, and she was a monster who tortured her own consorts.
The situation was a complete death trap.
Another husband stormed in, throwing down a marriage contract and demanding to sever their ties, which would leave her to be eaten by mutated beasts.
Outside, her third husband lay dying from a toxic wound while the rest of the tribe mocked her, eagerly waiting for her downfall.
Scanning her own body, Kiana discovered her face was covered in ugly purple bruises.
The original host hadn't just been naturally insane; she had been secretly fed a chronic poison by political enemies, destroying her beauty and driving her mad until she was exiled.
As a survivor from a modern apocalypse, the sight of broken, enslaved men made her skin crawl.
She refused to die in this savage wasteland as a pawn in someone else's twisted game.
Kiana tossed the contract back to the furious man.
"Give me three months. I will save him, and I swear I won't touch you."
With her apocalyptic healing powers and a newly awakened Spatial System, she was going to rewrite the rules of this primitive world. 
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