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The night before our wedding, my mother needed a fifty-thousand-dollar emergency deposit for surgery. I went to my fiancé, Major Adrian Hayes, hoping he would listen before it was too late. He only saw the number. He paid the deposit in the end, but something between us broke that night. That money became the beginning of every name he would ever use against me. After that, every time I asked him for help, he sent me one hundred dollars. When I was in a car accident, he sent one hundred dollars. When I begged him to attend my mother’s funeral, he sent one hundred dollars. Eight months ago, I found out I was pregnant. I sent him seventy-seven voice messages, desperate to tell him we were having a baby. He never listened. He only sent seventy-seven payments of one hundred dollars. Later, when I started bleeding and was rushed into emergency surgery, I called Adrian and begged him to come to the hospital, to answer the doctors, to save our child. He sent one hundred dollars again. At the same time, Madeline’s Instagram story showed Adrian in his dress uniform beside her at a lavish officers’ charity gala. The comments all treated them like the perfect match. I stared at the screen until my hand went numb. I was begging for him from the edge of an emergency room while he stood under chandeliers beside another woman, looking as if he had already found the wife he wanted. By the time Adrian finally turned his phone back on, his staff officer’s voice was shaking. “Major Hayes... your wife and the baby did not make it.” And in that moment, Adrian went feral.

It was in the Era of Harmony, trillions of years ago, when Chaos first arrived. To stop all existence from growing rampantly and exhausting all sustenance, the Creator of the universe took on Chaos as its body, the void as its vigor, and black holes as its jaw—a combination to create a world-ending coffin, devouring the seas and setting lands aflame, reducing all to ashes! Later, millions of years ago, the gods waged wars against each other when the same coffin appeared out of nowhere, massacring their ranks and decimating the divine realm. Since then, it had gone missing, but its name continued to echo throughout the universe, leaving both gods and demons in fear! Millions of years later, a youth was buried alive and fused with the coffin where he was kept, and he became an undertaker whose name was heard throughout all worlds. "I'm really bad at saving lives, but I'm quite good with ending them," he said quietly with a cool visage. "I possess the Coffin of the Gods, and I can send anything and anyone to their deaths: humans, worlds… or even the gods themselves!"

WARNING ️: this book may contain steamy and sexual content Which is strictly not for kids under 18. "Nathaan....." I screamed as I felt his huge cap at the entrance of my womanhood. Hello didn't give a damn about me as he pressed deeper into my wet pussy. My v walls pulsated around the root of his big cock while he kept pushing inside of me. " Pleaseeee Nathan, you're hard on meeeee" I managed to speak out trying to pull his hips away from mine, rather he retracted his hip and thrusted it dick fully, deeper, stretching me wider enough to accommodate his position. Nathan is a young, handsome, famous musician who lives happily single not until he was diagnosed with a terminal illness that made him bury his life in alcohol and sex. He believes that women are created for sex only and love comes with money. Not until he met a nurse, Eva meadows who isn't moved by his wealth or fame or even his physical looks but all she wishes for is to find true love, not the kind she had with Henry— her boyfriend. Now Eva works as Nathan's personal nurse, what neither of them expects is to fall in love. Not the kind that saves you—but the kind that changes you. He taught her how to feel. She taught him how to live. Now, as time slips away, they must face one impossible truth: Can you really learn to live… when you’re running out of time to love?

There are monsters in this world. And they used to be us. Now it's time to euthanize to survive in a hospice where Emily, a woman haunted by her past, only wants to do her job and be the best mother possible. Post-infection Chicago. Christmas. Inside The Hospice, Emily and her fellow nurses do their rounds. Here, men and women live out their final days in comfort, segregated from society, and are then humanely terminated before fate turns them into marrow-craving monsters known as ‘Smilers.’ Outside these imposing walls, rabid protesters swarm with signs, caught up in the heat of their hatred. Emily, a woman haunted by her past, only wants to do her job and be the best mother possible. But in a world where mortality means nothing, where guns are drawn in fear and nobody seems safe anymore – at what cost will this pursuit come? And through it all, the soon to be dead remain silent, ever smiling. Such is their curse. It won't be long before that snow-speckled ground will be salted by blood. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

The doctor said I only had three days left to live. Acute liver failure. My only hope was an experimental clinical trial. It was extremely risky, but had the faintest sliver of a chance to survive. But my husband, David, gave the last available spot... to my adopted sister, Emma, also my daughter’s godmother. Her condition was still in its early stages. He said it was the "right decision," because she “deserved to live more.” I signed the papers to forgo treatment and took the high-dose painkillers prescribed by the doctor. The cost? My organs would shut down, and I would die. When I handed over the jewelry company I’d poured my heart into, along with all my designs, to Emma, my parents praised me, saying, “Now that’s what a good big sister should do.” When I agreed to divorce David so he could marry Emma, he said, “You’ve finally learned to be understanding.” When I told my daughter to call Emma ‘Mom,’ she clapped her hands and said, “Emma is such a gentle and kind mother!” When I gave all my assets to Emma, everyone in the family thought it was only natural. No one noticed anything was wrong with me. I’m just curious. Will they still be able to smile when they find out I'm dead?

I was the sole heir to the Thirteen Needles of Revival, a legendary healing art. My consultation fee was twenty thousand dollars per visit, yet every year countless tycoons, politicians, and powerful elites lined up outside my door. As long as a patient still drew breath, the Thirteen Needles of Revival could pull them back from Death's doorstep. Over the past five years, I had awakened a wealthy businessman who had been declared brain-dead after a car accident. I had also prolonged the life of a centenarian suffering from multiple organ failure. Even terminally ill patients whose families had already been told to prepare for the worst were able to walk out of the hospital on their own after receiving my treatment. There was only one ironclad rule. I treated no more than ten patients a year. Once those ten slots were filled, no amount of money, power, or influence could change my mind. Whoever came next would have to wait until the following year. This year, only one slot remained. Suddenly, a group of bodyguards dressed in black burst through the door. They carried in a man covered in blood and dropped to their knees before me. “Please save our boss! We'll pay whatever it takes!” I looked at the man they carried inside and spoke coldly. “Take him out. I wouldn't save this man even if it killed me.”