Barely Tolerable Novels & Stories

Adeline, a 24-year-old Omega, was peacefully painting when her pack was brutally attacked, leaving no survivors, including her beloved father. She barely escaped with her life but was gravely injured, losing a significant amount of blood. Luckily, she was saved by Enzo, a cold and powerful Supreme Alpha. However, instead of letting her go after she recovered, Enzo decided to make her his servant. He did this as a way to hide the feelings he had for her while at the same time, keep her around until he was ready to admit to those feelings. Adeline vowed to track down those responsible for the attack and reclaim everything that was stolen from her. But to achieve this, she knew she needed Enzo's power and influence. When she asked him for help, Enzo refused, leaving her no choice but to do whatever it took to get her revenge. Even if it meant manipulating him or getting on his good side by playing the role of the perfect servant, she was ready to do it.

“Come with me,“ he ordered.  “I'm not going anywhere!“ Freya stood her ground, looking up at his blank face.   Something flashed past his dark eyes as he heard her. “You really have some guts, don't you?“   “Well, I don't care what this is. I don't care why I'm in a wedding gown and why I'm being treated like I chose this. You could kill me if you want. But I'm not—”   “Is this about the kiss, my Lady?“ he asked, sounding amused.  Freya wanted the ground to open up and swallow her at that moment. Her face went scarlet red and she almost forgot the other reason why she was angry. “Why should I care about the fact that you didn't kiss me? I barely know you and—”   “Right.“ That was all he said before he gently grabbed her waist and crushed his lips on hers...

I’m Daisy Valence. Eighteen. The favorite daughter of the Valence family. I woke up and found myself eight years in the future. Not only was I married to my nemesis, Lorenzo Astor, but we had a four-year-old son. Even crazier, the future me was a stone-cold snake, plotting to gut Lorenzo's operation while planning to run off with her "lover" after the divorce. And this "lover"? Just some nobody from the slums I was bankrolling. I must have lost my mind. Just as I was about to cut ties with all of them and get my free, single life back... I found the love letters Lorenzo wrote me, a secret stash of things I’d used, and a phone filled with my pictures… Then he grabbed me, his eyes bloodshot, and held me so tight I could barely breathe. He growled, "Who the hell gave you permission to leave me?" "I never agreed to any divorce, my wife."

I confirmed Vincent Lowe was cheating on me on the day of our third wedding anniversary. The dining table was filled with dishes, yet he barely touched his fork before heading out the door. "Where are you going?" I asked. His answer was unnervingly straightforward. "A friend's treating me to dinner. Cassidy Mason—you know her, right? It's a free meal. It'd be a waste not to accept." An hour later, however, I received a voice message from Cassidy. In the message, Vincent's voice was lighter and livelier—so different from how he ever sounded with me. "They say you should marry someone you can truly enjoy a meal with. I really regret meeting you so late. If only I had known you earlier, I would've married you instead." I listened in silence. Then, alone at the table, I finished every last bite of the meal I had prepared. Afterward, I left a divorce agreement behind.

Just before my wedding, my fate mate, my Alpha fiancé, Micheal, stripped me of my wedding dress—our wedding dress—and handed it to his mistress, Becky Porter. Not only that, but he locked me in the dressing room like some rabid wolf he needed to contain. "Becky has a terminal illness.She just wants to experience being a bride before she dies." I lunged forward, my wolf howling inside me. Alpha's strength pressed against mine, his dominance forcing my muscles to lock. My claws twitched, itching to break free. "You bastard!" I snarled, my breath ragged. Micheal barely blinked. Instead, he let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head . "She’s dying, and you can’t even show a little compassion?" His tone dripped with disappointment, as if I were the villain here. "You’re only losing a wedding, but Becky… Becky is losing her dreams and her life."

Life is never black and white. One minute you’re a struggling graphic designer in LA that's finally coming to terms with being single forever, and the next you're flying to New York in a private jet to get engaged to your ex-boyfriend’s older brother. At least...that’s what everyone thinks. Forced to clean up his playboy image in order to protect his company, Beckham Sinclair, the city’s most eligible billionaire bachelor, wants me to be his fake fiancée and personal assistant. Now I'm spending every spare second with a man I thought I’d never see again. My freshly mended heart has barely recovered from the first time a Sinclair broke it. But with each passing day, Beck’s dirty mouth and lingering stares make me question his motives—and mine. As the line blurs between real and pretend, only one thing is certain: there are secrets hiding in this city full of black ties and white lies.

Jessica Cooper was poor in every sense of the word-her slum apartment didn't feel safe anymore, she could barely feed herself or afford good clothes-and after quitting her job, she had nothing to fall back to. Her hope is rekindled when she gets hired by a Billionaire CEO to be his housekeeper. Daniel Snider, an infamous player in the business world was known to reckless, impulsive, self-conceited and irresponsible. His position was handed to him on a platter of gold, so he doesn't see the need to be responsible, until his father gives him an ultimatum; get married, settle down and prove to me that you're responsible enough to handle the company or loose everything you own. Daniel is desperate to prove himself to his father and gain back his position, so he proposes a deal to the maid because he has a secret of hers in his hands which could destroy her. The question is, would Jessica agree to be his contact wife?

Giovana signed a marriage contract with a man she barely knew, out of gratitude to Nicholas, the man who saved her from her mother's evils. Even living next to a cold and overbearing man, Giovana learned to love Antony. But his life changes completely, when two days after the sudden death of Nicholas, Giovana receives the news that his younger sister is hospitalized in serious condition, and that he needs a blood transfusion. When Antony stops her from helping her sister, forcing her to go sign the divorce, condemning Gina to death. For Giovana there is no more reason to stay married to Antony, even loving him, she knows that she cannot forgive him for all the harm he caused him during those three long years and that cost the life of his own sister. But Antony, realizing the injustice he has committed, will not accept losing it easily. He wants to win her back and will do anything to have Giovana's love again.

After her father walks out on their family for his secretary, seventeen-year-old Miley’s world crumbles overnight. With her mother barely holding it together, they move to a quiet suburb hoping for a fresh start. But peace is the last thing Miley finds. Because the boy next door? He’s a walking headache with a six-pack and a smirk. Shirtless. Arrogant. And totally infuriating. Their first interaction? He flips her off. Their second? He calls her “darling” like it’s his full-time job to get under her skin. She wants to hate him. She should hate him. But Jordan isn’t just Liv’s older brother—he’s a tangled mix of charm, mystery, and a past he won’t talk about. And worse, he’s seeing straight through her walls. As secrets unravel and sparks fly, Miley is forced to confront everything she’s running from: heartbreak, trust, and the terrifying possibility that sometimes the person you hate the most… is the only one who truly sees you.

My suitcase, filled with precious and expensive birthday gifts, was mistakenly claimed by another person at the airport. When I opened the one left behind, I found it packed with men’s clothes instead of my belongings. Determined to retrieve what was rightfully mine, I went on a frantic search for the man who had taken my suitcase. When I finally confronted him and politely asked for an exchange, he responded with the gentlest of tones: “Oh, I opened it and realized I’d made a mistake—it’s all women’s items.” I breathed a sigh of relief, ready to thank him and express my gratitude. Then he added casually, “I couldn’t use any of those things, so I sorted them out and gave them to my girlfriend. You’re welcome.” My jaw dropped. I could barely muster a response as I muttered under my breath, “What the hell?”