As Good As Dead Book Novels & Stories

After failing my mission, I was about to be erased by the system—completely wiped from this world. In the final twenty-four hours before my deletion, I agreed to donate a kidney to my younger sister. My husband, overjoyed, held me tightly and said he would not divorce me anymore. When my sister stole my design draft, I voluntarily admitted I was the plagiarist. My parents nodded in satisfaction, saying I had finally become sensible. At last, I became the good wife and good daughter they had always wanted. But later, when they saw my corpse, they all lost their minds.

I died beneath the Ferris wheel where Henry Cadden and Sophie Lloyd had their secret affair. Two lives were lost that day, mine and my unborn child's, but they all said it was my fate, and I deserved it. Sophie had orchestrated everything. She convinced Henry to cut our child from my body and give it to her, then stole my phone to frame me for infidelity. She also asked him not to look for me. Later, he found out the truth. The lifeless body he discovered was mine, and the child he had removed from my womb for Sophie was our own. My remains weren't even complete. He told himself it was for the best, that the child had done a good deed and would be blessed for it. But deep down, guilt consumed him. Still, in the end, he decided to marry Sophie. As my soul faded and seemed to be slipping away for good, he exposed Sophie's evil deeds at their wedding. In a final act of desperation, he dragged her and jumped down the building. She died instantly on the spot, but he didn't and went into a coma for life.

I was sent to a correctional facility by my family for five years. The first thing I learned there was obedience. If people told me to do one thing, I would never dare do anything else. The day my wife, Casey Anderson, came to pick me up, she stood at the entrance and said coldly, "If you dare say another bad word about Roger, I'll make sure you never speak again." The moment she finished speaking, I turned and ran straight into traffic. When she saw me get thrown by the impact of the car, she nearly lost her footing. At the hospital, my foster brother stood beside my bed with a sinister smile. "So you actually managed to survive. But that's fine. I have plenty of ways to kill you and make sure you never make it home." After saying that, he smashed the bowl of porridge onto the floor, then deliberately fell onto the shattered glass as he cried out loudly, "Bobby, if you hate me that much, I'll leave! Please, just let me go!" My mother and Casey happened to walk in at that exact moment. Casey immediately rushed over to help Roger up. My mother, meanwhile, slapped me hard across the face. "You'll never change, huh? If Roger's hand is ruined because of you and he can't play the piano anymore, I'd rather see you dead in this hospital bed." Obediently, I walked toward the window and jumped. The harsh, sharp-tongued woman who had always been my mother—and Casey as well—went completely pale with fear. I happened to crash onto my father's car. Trembling, he threw open the door and shouted for the medical staff. My consciousness gradually faded. Then, a system suddenly appeared and said, "Congratulations, Host. You have completed ninety-nine tragic storylines. Finish this final one, and you will be able to return to your original world and revive your younger sister."

My wife, Christine Leigh, forced me to the brink of death all for her first love, Henry Carson. To give him a liver transplant, she sent me to the surgery table. I told her I had cancer and that the doctors had advised against the surgery. She just looked at me with an undisguised contempt, "Jason Lowe, stop with your petty tricks. Don't forget, you owe our family your life!" I lowered my head and smiled bitterly. I never left the surgery table.

Vad Wagner is the best IIF agent there is for over a decade. However, his work turned him into a prideful man and his heart into stone. He spent half of his life living with criminals that he developed some psychopathic tendencies. His life turned to turmoil when his body swapped with a teenage girl; Kylo a withdrawn, bullied teen. She explored a ritual that opened a door to the mythical world. Now, Vad has to deal with demons in the body of the weak teen girl. How will he be able to handle it? Will the reserved Kylo be able to handle the life and body of Vad? Will Vad’s reputation help her overcome her fears and trauma along the way? How will they come back to their original bodies? How will they take control of a life so different from their own? Join Vad and Kylo, clash it out against the supernatural and their inner battle against themselves. Disclaimer: Credits to the rightful owner of the pic used in my book cover.

My CEO husband told me he had a last-minute job to handle. He said that because of it, he couldn't accompany me to retrieve the body. Then I went online and saw a photo my husband's secretary had posted as a birthday status update. [Thanks for the red velvet cake, Mr. Mitchell! Happy birthday to me!] I smiled and left a comment. [Happy birthday.] That single comment sparked a frenzy among my colleagues. They immediately began placing bets on how big of a scene I would make. Then he called. "Lucy is just celebrating her birthday, Brianna! Why do you have to ruin it by showing up in the comments?! Don't you know how sensitive she is? How is she supposed to feel comfortable at work now?! "She's only been here for two years. She doesn't even have any friends! What's wrong with me looking out for an employee and keeping her company on her birthday? A lucky girl who grew up in a wealthy family like you wouldn't understand! "If you want to talk about this, fine. Wait until I get back. But delete that comment right now! We can always wait another few days before retrieving his body. Where is your father going to go anyway? He's already dead!" I clenched my fist and replied, "That won't be necessary." By the time he returned, we would already be legally divorced.

In the seventh year of my marriage to Adrian Sandford, his ex, Celine Wheeler, came back. She posted: [We were young, reckless. We missed our shot. This time, I'm fighting for love.] That night, Adrian sat on the balcony, cigarette burning between his fingers, staring out till sunrise. My phone wouldn't stop buzzing either. Their friend group—everyone who saw them grow up—flooded the chat. Regret for them. Relief, too. They forgot I was still in there. Adrian had no clue how many times I replayed the years I chased him. Seven years. I'm tired.

Right before I hit forty, my husband hit me with: "I want a divorce." For the past ten years, I had been driving a truck outside every day to support my family, while he had been cheating on me at home. Even our child was no longer close to me. "Bad Mom! You hit Jenny! Bad Mom!" Willy cried. "I don't want Mom. I want Jenny. I wanna stay with Dad and Jenny!" Jenny. The neighbor. Single mom. Her kid and ours were tight. Ten years of grinding, running myself ragged—for two ingrates? All right! Wish your family of four a happy life! I didn't want my husband or son anymore.

My husband insisted that I wear high heels at the company’s annual meeting despite being pregnant. He compared me to his female secretary with a look of disdain. "Can’t you learn from Lucille? She’s eight months pregnant and still comes to work in full makeup, handling her tasks efficiently. If you don’t wear them, don’t go. I’ll be embarrassed!" He even tried to give the high heels to his secretary and take her as his date. Left with no choice, I forced myself to wear them. However, on the balcony, the secretary tripped me, spilling red wine all over me. Limping, I found my husband, only for him to sneer, "Tripping on flat ground? How clumsy!" Furious and pale with anger, I turned to leave. Someone urged him to chase after me, but he only got angrier. "How bad could it be? She’s so timid—she can’t survive without me! Just wait. When the event’s over, she’ll definitely be waiting in the car to drive me home." Alas, he was wrong. I turned and went straight to the hospital for an abortion.

He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly. “Celeste, you know Isabella has been sick for years.” “Yes, I know,” I said bitterly. “I know because you remind me every single day.” He ignored the edge in my voice. “She’s not getting better. The doctors said she probably has a year left.” I swallowed hard. “And how does that concern me?” “She has one last wish,” he said quietly. “She wants to get married before she dies.” He wants to divorce me and remarry me after a year, but that’s nonsense! I’m tired of this marriage. This divorce isn’t a joke to me; I’m taking it seriously.