Crossing Writing Novels & Stories

"I love you, Nate." My head was bent and I was staring at my feet, nervous like a child who had done something wrong and was waiting to be scolded. The man in my embrace froze. He broke the embrace and took three steps backwards. "We are ending this relationship." I finally heard him say after a few minutes of awkward silence. "Huh,why? I thought I still have a month left?" "Why? you breached the contract, that's why." *********************** Aviva Alexander who has just turned twenty-three crossed paths with the arrogant, dominant CEO of Dove's enterprises, Nathan Lewis. Love at first sight? That's what you may call it in Ava's case. Determined, she chases the hot Nathan Lewis and Nathan who had developed feelings for her gives her the privilege of being his contracted girlfriend after she had seen him break up with Camille that night in the garage. “ I knew you were the one when I saw you at the garage” They're writing their love story but will there ever be an happy ever after when Caryn Jones is hellbent on getting her one-time lover, Nathan? “ I love you Ava, I really do. Everything about you drives me insane... Allow me love you, please. Let me love you tonight, princess.” ” There can be no happy ever after... or maybe there is. ” - Ava & Nate

She thought she was escaping one cage. She walked straight into another. Georgia Steele married a man she didn't love to save her family — traded her youth for a gilded prison in Pasadena and called it duty. Then Lord Carlisle Strathearn walked into her life and offered her everything she'd been denied: passion, freedom, the kind of love that made her forget her vows. She left her husband for him. She left her family. She left everything. It was only when the doors locked behind her that she realized Carlisle had been watching her long before that first night at the art gallery. That his desire wasn't for her — it was for her destruction. Her father's sins had cost him everything. And Georgia was going to pay the debt. Now she's trapped beneath a Victorian manor in California, drugged, gaslit, and erased from the world — while Carlisle hosts dinner parties on the floor above her head. She had two choices once. She has none now. But the walls she's writing on are starting to whisper back. Married for Money' Buried for Revenge is a dark psychological romance series about obsession, revenge, and what survives when everything else is taken away. For readers who like their villains brilliant, their heroines unbreakable, and their love stories soaked in shadows.

After I dropped out of school, my parents didn't pressure me to do anything. But Nicole Hicks kept calling nonstop. She was my boyfriend's childhood friend who had established a reputation as a genius. I was too busy helping out in the fields, growing vegetables, and splashing around in the creek, living my best carefree life. Writing code wasn't even on my mind. In my past life, she had turned in a project just one day before I did. Her codes were exactly the same as mine. Everyone called me a fraud and said I had stolen it. I tried to explain, but no one believed me. Later, she even did a livestream, accusing me online of being a school bully. People went wild. They didn't just come for me—they went after my whole family. Some obsessed troll chased my parents in a car, and they died in a crash. I couldn't take it anymore. I jumped off a high-rise, my eyes still wide open, refusing to accept the way it all ended. Even in my last moment, I couldn't figure it out. That code was mine. My hard work. So how did she manage to post it before me? When I opened my eyes again, I was back, right before everything fell apart.

New York’s youngest bestselling author at just 19, India Seethal has taken the literary world by storm. Now 26, with countless awards and a spot among the highest-paid writers on top storytelling platforms, it seems like she has it all. But behind the fame and fierce heroines she pens, lies a woman too shy to chase her own happy ending. She writes steamy, swoon-worthy romances but has never lived one. She crafts perfect, flowing conversations for her characters but stumbles awkwardly through her own. She creates bold women who fight for what they want yet she’s never had the courage to do the same. Until she met him. One wild night. One reckless choice. In the backseat of a stranger’s car, India lets go for the first time in her life. Roman Alkali is danger wrapped in desire. He’s her undoing. The man determined to tear down her walls and awaken the fire she's buried for years. Her mind says stay away. Her body? It craves him. Now, India is caught between the rules she’s always lived by and the temptation of a man who makes her want to rewrite her story. She finds herself being drawn to him like a moth to a flame and fate manages to make them cross paths again. Will she follow her heart or let fear keep writing her life’s script?

The day I announced I was quitting writing, the entire internet celebrated. Everyone except my girlfriend's rumored boyfriend, the famous mystery author, Bryan Vega. In a short video, he looked genuinely regretful. "This is all a misunderstanding. I’ve always admired Kobi’s work, and I hope he’ll come back for the sake of his readers." I turned off my phone and ignored him completely. In my previous life, the web novel I wrote was identical to the mystery novel he published. People online called me a plagiarist and wished death on my whole family. I tried to defend myself, posting my drafts, outlines, and timestamps. Yet, it didn't matter. The last edit timestamp on his document was ten minutes earlier than mine. Just those ten minutes destroyed me. The messages never stopped. Strangers flooded my inbox with insults. Some even showed up at my house and threw paint on the walls. Years of nonstop harassment dragged me into depression. My parents tried to clear my name, but obsessed fans hunted them down and murdered them using methods copied straight from his novel. In the end, on the very day his book won a major award, I sealed my windows and burned charcoal, ending my life. And then, I opened my eyes again. I had returned to the day my new book was supposed to be released.

My fiancé was sleeping with my maid of honor. I caught them the night before our wedding. I didn't make a sound. I closed the door, walked back to my bridal suite, and sat at the vanity until my hands stopped shaking. Then I grabbed my keys. At two in the morning I drove forty blocks across Manhattan and knocked on Atlas Marchetti's door. Two years ago I'd told my family I wouldn't marry him. He hadn't said a word about it since. He opened the door in pajama pants. "Marry me tomorrow," I said. He didn't say yes. He poured himself a drink first, listened to everything, and then handed me a piece of paper with terms I should have read more carefully. I signed at dawn. Six hours later I walked down the aisle Carter and I had planned. The Plaza ballroom. The dress I'd chosen in spring. Three hundred guests who came to watch me marry the wrong man. I married someone else instead. Carter watched it happen. He didn't understand yet what he'd lost, and he wouldn't understand for months. Not until he found out who owned the company he ran, and how long Atlas had been bleeding it. I went to Atlas for revenge. He'd been writing this for two years.

In the coastal quiet of Baler, a studio is born—not of architecture, but of intention.* Founded by Yam, a poet whose words cradle pain gently, and Franc, an artist who paints tenderness into walls, the studio becomes a refuge for those learning to stay—with grief, love, longing, and themselves. As visitors arrive, they leave behind more than footprints: a sigh recorded in bamboo, a poem tucked into the “Found Letters” shelf, a mural painted in crooked lines. Through zines, tea, silence, and sketchbooks, the studio teaches softness as revolution. Ren creates the *Window of Soft Returns*, an installation of anonymous voice recordings—each whisper forming a community of echoes. Drew builds the *Staircase With No Wrong Turns*, inviting people to walk through emotions without shame. Franc offers brushstrokes as brave work, and Yam curates writing circles that map healing in half sentences. Together, they host festivals that feel like hugs, and they begin traveling their archive, letting softness cross oceans. Even those who once left—like Miguel—return, discovering that some doors never truly close. Others, like Tala, capture the studio’s sound and turn it into a podcast of breath and becoming. Over seventy chapters, the studio transforms into something larger than itself: a mural of memory, a sanctuary for second chances, a place where return is sacred and voice is proof of survival. In the final bloom, the studio stands not as a monument—but as a reminder: > *“Staying isn’t easy. > But chosen together, > it becomes home.”*

Fate twists its vines in ways we can't comprehend. For Sylvie, it brought the force of a Tyrant Alpha and the ruthless Salvalor pack. Sylvie learned to live with her handicap. Stay out of business of other wolves and they'll leave her alone. Mostly. War, however, soon reaches her doorstep. Forced to submit to Malphas, one of the last living Lycans, with a bloody streak and reputation for having the shortest fuse, Sylvie's quiet life turns upside down. Run or serve, the choice is easy. Malphas and the wolf within him, Valac, are the two names whispered in fear. Packs are falling, wolves are dying, territories are burning. The sky is red with blood, in his eyes. The thirst for it, unquenchable. He lives for the thrill of the kill, yet struggles to contain his disdain towards wolves. Rebuilding the line of Lycans, and the Kingdom of Silas to its former glory, is most important. Getting revenge is just a convenience. Imagine the surprise when he finds the last village to pillage, before crossing wolven borders, and a hidden gem within it. The Omega runt throws his senses into confused calmness, and for the first time neither he, nor Valac, feel the urge to kill. Refusing to admit, but finding it intriguing, Malphas takes Sylvie as his cup-girl. What threads will fate weave for the two? Will Sylvie survive under Malphas's command? Will he solve the puzzle behind the quiet, little runt or will his anger and cruelty bury her into the ground? Can Sylvie unravel the mystery hidden in Malphas's eyes? Enjoy the slow burning flames and the rusted blood that keeps them going.

"Did you really think you could run from me forever.....after the way I touched you that night?" he growled, his hands pinning her wrists above her head, eyes dark with intensity as they drank her in. "You became mine from the second I touched you....and no amount of time or distance will change that. And you need to understand the consequences of crossing path with me." Her breath hitched. She hated the way her body remembered him—how his voice alone could shatter her defenses. His touch burned through the fabric of time, pulling at memories she’d fought to bury. Every word he spoke sent a shiver down her spine, curling heat in places she’d sworn had long gone numb. But it wasn’t just desire. It was fear. Fear of what he made her feel. Fear of the truth she hadn’t told him. Fear that if she let him in again, she might never find the strength to walk away. As the past and old enemies resurface and buried secrets begin to unravel, Kimberly is forced to confront the past she tried so hard to forget. But with every truth revealed, the danger grows—and so does the temptation to fall again. Caught between betrayal, obsession, and a love that refuses to die, Kimberly must fight to protect the one thing she swore to keep safe. Because some sins don't stay buried. And some passions are impossible to escape.

LEILANI: I owe my life to Phoenix Baxter, leader of the Sandcastles MC. He'd saved me from my abusive father, gave me a life, gave me a home. I'll forever be indebted to him. Which is why when he propositions me to marry him, I don't refuse. But the Sandcastles MC isn't what it once was, and war rears its ugly head. To protect me, Phoenix places a bodyguard in charge of my welfare. It would've been better if it were someone else. But he choose Mason Vampelt. The one man whose presence does unspeakable things to my body. As the war casts it's shadow over the city, my feelings for Mason develops, and soon we're crossing lines, not giving a damn. I love two men: one out of gratitude, and the other out of my body's devotion. MASON: Leilani and I grew up together in the Sandcastles MC. Once inseparable, we drifted apart as we grew older. Reason being because my boss Phoenix wanted her for a wife. She owes her life to him, as I do mine. But I've seen the way she steals glances my way. Seen the way her body reacts to my presence. We both want the same thing. Each other. Phoenix might've saved my life once, but it's Leilani that gives me the will to keep on living. And I'll have her as mine no matter what.