My Vampire Bride

Ghost friend

Bobby Adams was transferred to a new school where he felt reluctant to go due to the rumors of the bullies he heard. He finds out that there's more to the school than some fancy looking students and buildings or more when a female student, Stephanie Myers, the school's most beautiful and brightest student was forced to a coma at the beach where she, alongside her classmates went for a field trip before his arrival. With his ability to see and communicate with the unseen, will he help the wandering spirit of the half-dead student on her quest to find her killer? or will he succeed in helping her cross over to the next side if eventually she doesn't wake up? Find out on this new story by preshytreenah Trust me, you do not want to miss out on this one.

Entwined destiny

She looks back into his eyes with her drowsy ones, searching for answers. His lips suddenly touched hers and he planted a kiss. She felt a sudden burst of butterflies in her belly. Then, his hand cupped her face and he deepened the kiss. The more he tasted her lips the more he craved for more. He let the alcohol take over him and he sucked on her lower lip. She responded with equal force and did to him what he did to her. They clawed at each other, passion and lust exceeding coordination. Slowly, nearly subconsciously, She was going weak as she leaned in towards him.. Her wobbly legs nearly giving up on her. He held her firm, supporting her weight and preventing her from falling. Soon, he carried her to the bed and placed her on top while he watched her try to catch her breath. He restrained himself, cringing at the sight. "What's wrong?". She asked, sitting upright. "You shouldn't be here". It was her turn to remain silent. She just stared back at him with no expression decipherable. "If you don't leave, I don't think I'll be able to stop myself". He said huskily. "From what?" She asked with innocent eyes. "From you". "I'm not leaving". She replied, curtly.

Cupid's Twain

"What? Who said anything about liking him? No! I don't like him". I replied quickly. "Stop lying to yourself... You can't beat Cupid". She said. "I said I don't like him, now you're talking about love?" I scoffed. "Yeah...You two make such a perfect Cupid's pair". She squealed, then blushed...."just like Carlos and I, don't ya think?" "Carlos is way out of your league, no offense but you're totally different from him, you're the opposite of him!". "That's my point...law of magnetic force states that...unlike forces attracts, while like forces repel...see? I and Carlos are unlike...we're perfect for each other....you and Aiden are also unlike...he's a bad boy....you're a..i wouldn't say good girl tho buh you're his opposite, thus you're perfect for each other". She said with much confidence as she smiled. She's totally lost It.. I stared at her, my left eyebrow, twitching.... "Did you hit your head?" I asked... "No..c'mon!" She groaned. "You're saying nonsense....I can never be attracted to an obnoxious, pompous brat like him". I scoffed. "Keep lying to yourself". She sighed. "Just wait till you guys fall in love and i remind you of this day...meanwhile, i'll post something on my blog, tagging you guys 'Cupid's couple, pair, match...no Twain...yeah Twain, not much people use the word Twain like the word couple...so it'll be hashtag 'Cupid's Twain". She winked at me "I'll kill you" I told her... "You won't....you know you love me". She pouted.

Why me?!

Nathalia finds herself going from one jeopardy to another. Do you think there'll be light at the end of the tunnel for her? 'Why me?!' is a cringy yet exciting experience you don't wanna miss, grab your popcorns and get readyyy.... don't forget your tissues also.

The Scars She Hid From The World

The heavy iron gates of the Wilderness Correction Camp groaned as they released me after three years of state-sponsored hell. I stood on the dirt road, clutching a plastic bag that held my entire life, waiting for the family that claimed they sent me there for "rehab." My brother, Brady, picked me up in a luxury SUV only to throw me out onto a deserted highway in the middle of a brewing storm. He told me I was a "public relations nightmare" and that the rain might finally wash the "stink" of the camp off me. He drove away, leaving me to limp miles through the mud on a snapped ankle. When I finally dragged myself to our family estate, my mother didn't offer a hug; she gasped in horror because my muddy clothes were ruining her Italian marble. They didn't give me my old room back. Instead, they banished me to a moldy gardener’s shack and hired a "babysitter" to make sure I didn't embarrass them further. My sister, Kaleigh, stood there in white cashmere, pretending to cry while clinging to her fiancé, Ambrose—the man who had once been mine. They all treated me like a volatile junkie, refusing to acknowledge that Kaleigh was the one who planted the drugs in my bag three years ago. They wanted to believe I was broken so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about the "wellness retreat" that was actually a torture chamber. I sat in the dark of that shed, feeling the cooling gel on the cigarette burns that covered my arms, and realized they had made a fatal mistake. They thought they had erased me, but I had returned with a roadmap of scars and a hidden satellite phone. At dinner, I didn't beg for their love. I simply rolled up my sleeves and showed them the price of their silence. As the wine spilled and the lies crumbled, I sent a single text to the only person I trusted: "I'm in. Let them simmer." The hunt was finally on.

Heartbreak Billionaire: He Should Never Have Let Go

Sunlit hours found their affection glimmering, while moonlit nights ignited reckless desire. But when Brandon learned his beloved might last only half a year, he coolly handed Millie divorce papers, murmuring, "This is all for appearances; we'll get married again once she's calmed down." Millie, spine straight and cheeks dry, felt her pulse go hollow. The sham split grew permanent; she quietly ended their unborn child and stepped into a new beginning. Brandon unraveled, his car tearing down the street, unwilling to let go of the woman he'd discarded, pleading for her to look back just once.

The Billionaire's Blind Bride: No Mercy

I married Clive Harrington, the coldest billionaire in Manhattan, under a strict contract that forbade any emotional burdens. When I needed a high-risk surgery to save my sight, I checked into the clinic alone, hiding the procedure from a husband who saw me as nothing more than a legal asset. I thought I could handle the darkness in silence. But while I was blind and bandaged in my hospital bed, my biological mother called, screaming that if I didn't produce a Harrington heir by the end of the fiscal year, she would cut off the life-saving treatments for my disabled sister. I was crawling on the cold hospital floor, desperately feeling for a cane I had dropped, when I touched a pair of expensive leather shoes. It was Clive. He was supposed to be in London closing a multi-million dollar deal, but there he was, watching his "contract wife" groveling in the dark like a beggar. He didn't walk away in disgust. He carried me to a five-thousand-dollar-a-night VIP suite and sat by my bed, listening in chilling silence as another voicemail from my mother filled the room, calling me a "useless broodmare" who was only worth the trust fund disbursements my marriage secured. I expected him to remind me of Clause 34B or hand me divorce papers now that I was "damaged goods." Instead, I felt his thumb brush a stray tear from my cheek, his presence shifting from a statue of ice into a predatory shield. "I thought I was just currency to you," I whispered, my voice trembling behind the gauze. "Just an investment." Clive didn't answer with words. He picked up his phone and called his head of legal with a single, terrifying command: "Kill the Douglas family’s credit lines. Every debt, every lien—trigger them all. If they want a war, I’ll give them a massacre." As he leaned down to kiss my bandaged forehead, I realized the contract was dead. My husband wasn't protecting an asset anymore; he was hunting the people who had dared to touch what belonged to him.

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.

The Rise Of The Ugly Luna

Lyric had spent her life being hated. Bullied for her scarred face and hated by everyone-including her own mate-she was always told she was ugly. Her mate only kept her around to gain territory, and the moment he got what he wanted, he rejected her, leaving her broken and alone. Then, she met him. The first man to call her beautiful. The first man to show her what it felt like to be loved. It was only one night, but it changed everything. For Lyric, he was a saint, a savior. For him, she was the only woman that had ever made him cum in bed-a problem he had been battling for years. Lyric thought her life would finally be different, but like everyone else in her life, he lied. And when she found out who he really was, she realized he wasn't just dangerous-he was the kind of man you don't escape from. Lyric wanted to run. She wanted freedom. But she desired to navigate her way and take back her respect, to rise above the ashes. Eventually, she was forced into a dark world she didn't wish to get involved with.

Inferno Heiress: Freed From Hell To Reclaim My Empire

Hayley was betrayed by those who should have loved her most. To save their precious adopted daughter from a punishment she deserved, her own parents sent Hayley straight into a living hell—an infamous prison where survival demanded cruelty, and weakness meant death. Four years later, the girl who had entered those iron gates no longer existed. She emerged with a single, unbreakable rule carved into her soul: Every betrayal would be repaid tenfold. The day she walked free, the world trembled. A convoy of luxury cars lined the road. A legion of loyal followers awaited her triumphant return. Her father tried to buy her silence with money. But money had long lost its power over her. Her adopted sister hid behind sweet words and false kindness. But empty smiles no longer fooled her. Everything that had once been stolen would be reclaimed—piece by piece. When her parents attempted to tie themselves to the city's most feared man by offering their adopted daughter, Hayley's lips curved into a cold smirk. "Not on my watch." Backed by a legendary hacker, shadowy allies, and an entire prison willing to burn the world for her, Hayley dismantled her enemies with terrifying precision. Then the tyrant noticed her. "You're interesting," he said. "Be my woman, and the city is yours." Hayley raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "You want to own me? Survive me first." High society became their battlefield. Power collided with desire. Ambition clashed with obsession. In this ruthless game of dominance and temptation, only one would kneel first. The girl once abandoned in hell rose from its ashes, crowned by fire and vengeance—And in the end, even the most feared ruler in the city would bow, offering his empire to the woman who had conquered both hell… and him.