YERB
4 Published Stories
YERB's Books and Stories
Ghost In Red
LGBT+ Note: *This is not a horror story!*
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Olivia Jillian Hunters has it all— beauty, body, brain, money, friends, the perfect boyfriend that every girl wanted, and the haters, of course.
But because of a broken heart from knowing that her boyfriend has been cheating on her with Sydney Roswell, her long-time enemy, OJ got into an accident that caused her to be in a coma.
OJ woke up one day and knew that she was not in her body... not even near. She is now a ghost.
When OJ overheard that her physical body was living with a machine for life-support and would not go for long, she panicked as she didn't know how to stop her parents from letting her die. In searching for help, she found herself wandering in the academy and learned that Sydney was the only one who could see and hear her.
Will she ever ask for help from the girl who she hates and hates her back even more?
Price Of Pryce (The Queen And The Freak Sequel)
LGBT+ (The Queen And The Freak Sequel, BUT... Can be read in your comfort.)
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The hybrid mates, Blair and Pryce, have just woken up from sleeping and are surprised to know that thirty years have passed since the last time they were awake.
Things were about to change in their lives as they had to cope with the things in the new era. Old-looking old friends and new people to meet, new ways of living, new schools, new status, new powers, new roles, new problems, and new almost everything.
How can they survive if their new lives are about to be destroyed by old enemies?
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THE MISTAKEN ALPHA [BOOK 1]
JusticeFaruck The Kingdom of Pelugia and the Republic of Kadar have been at war for decades, but the planet can't survive without peace. To achieve this, Senator Royce Cleghorn is forced to marry an enemy prince, Haydn, in a political arrangement. Royce despises Haydn's alpha scent, his pretty blue eyes, and the primitive alpha instincts he brings out in him. Royce likes omegas, not alphas, and he's convinced that his attraction to Haydn is just a territorial instinct.
Prince Haydn, on the other hand, has always tried to be the perfect alpha his father wants him to be. As the heir to the throne and a war general, he knows that his marriage to Royce is just a political arrangement. However, he can't help but crave his alpha husband, even though everyone knows that a marriage between two alphas is a recipe for disaster.
When disaster strikes and loyalties are tested, Royce and Haydn must confront their true feelings for each other. Will their marriage be strong enough to survive the political turmoil and the war that rages on? Or will their allegiances tear them apart? As they navigate the treacherous waters of love and politics, Royce and Haydn will discover that sometimes, the heart defies all reason and logic.
Fake Amnesia, Real Betrayal
Gavin The call came at 7:05 PM on our tenth wedding anniversary.
My husband, David, was in an accident.
At the hospital, he was awake, but a young woman, his assistant Chloe, was holding his hand, acting like his wife.
When I walked in, he looked at me, a blank stranger' s stare, then asked, "Who are you?"
He laughed when I said I was his wife, then demanded security remove me, while Chloe, smiling, pretended to cry.
It wasn't just memory loss; it was a cruel, targeted erasure.
I tried proof, the marriage certificate, but he pushed it away as "just a piece of paper."
Then Chloe waltzed in with his favorite soup, and he defended her when I confronted her.
"She' s the only one who' s been here for me!" he screamed.
He snarled that I was "exhausted, haggard," compared to Chloe, who was "kind and gentle."
My wedding ring, a symbol of our forever, flew from my hand as he slapped it away, clinking under the bed.
"Don' t come back," he said, turning his back on me to comfort Chloe.
Later, I learned why: he had been having an affair with Chloe, his mother's 65th birthday ruined by his absence and her answering his phone.
My world shattered when Mark Johnson, David's estranged best friend, told me what David said: "The fake amnesia was a stroke of genius, right? A clean break."
My husband had faked a brain injury to throw me away.
A car hit me, sending me to the hospital, and I knew what I had to do.
When Mark came in, I looked at him, my face blank, then asked, "Are you… my husband?" Mummery
Gilbert Cannan This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1919 Excerpt: ...loss of humanity. Henceforth she must deal with realities, leaving him to his painted mummery.... She could understand his frenzy, his fury, his despair. \"That will do, Charles,\" she said very quietly. \"I will see what can be done about Mr. Clott, and whatever happens I will see that you are not harmed.... If you like, you can dine with Verschoyle and me tonight. You can come home with me now, while I dress. I am to meet him at the Carlton and then we are going on to the Opera.\" \"Does Verschoyle know?\" \"He knows that you are you and that I am I---that is all he cares about.... He is a good man. If people must have too much money, he is the right man to have it. He would never let a man down for want of money--if the man was worth it.\" \"Ah!\" said Charles, reassured. This was like the old Clara speaking, but with more assurance, a more certain knowledge and less bewildering intuition and guess-work. A Few weeks later, with Verschoyle and a poor relation of his, a Miss Vibart Withers, for chaperone, Clara left London in a 60 h.p. Fiat, which voraciously ate up the Bath Road at the rate of a mile every minute and a half.... It was good to be out of the thick heat of London, invaded by foreigners and provincials and turned into a city of pleasure and summer-frocks, so that its normal life was submerged, its character hidden. The town became as lazy and drowsy a spectacle as a field of poppies over which danced gay and brilliant butterflies. Very sweet was it then to turn away from it, and all that was happening in it, to the sweet air and to fly along between green fields and orchards, through little towns, at intervals to cross the Thames and to feel that with each crossing London lay so much farther away. Henle...