Dragonlance Reading Order Novels & Stories

[Damn it! She's obviously a scheming wretch. She's trying to seduce the male lead while the female lead is away. She's so eager to be the mistress, and she even called him Sir? Just go to hell already.] [Did you forget? There's no way the male lead would fall for such low-level tricks. He only cares about his precious niece. The male lead and the female lead's fathers were best friends. They're not blood-related. Those two are destined to marry each other!] [Hey, don't forget that the male lead also loves cats. Haha! He's an ailurophile.]

I can't believe that my online boyfriend is actually my boss, Yoel Gilmore, who refutes me at all times during my work hours! So, I purposefully complain on the chat app, saying that my "boss" wants me to burn the midnight oil just to get a proposal done immediately. Almost immediately, I see my company's group chat updating with a new message that says, "A one-day extension has been given." Afterward, I claim that I "want to quit my job because the food at the cafeteria sucks". On the very same day, the company makes a decision to increase the cafeteria meals' portions without hiking up the price. I'm also given an increase in bonus. In the end, I say I want to break up with him because I can't hug him in real life. But I end up getting taken to the CEO's office, where I hear him telling me in a choked-up tone, "I'll let you hug and kiss me. Can we please not break up?"

I was halfway through a sad cafeteria lunch when a livestream popped up: [Ring toss—whoever lands it gets the dog.] Onscreen, Alverton University's rich-boy squad cracked up, betting on who'd "own" me. Adrian Locke, the student council golden boy, flicked his ring. It landed dead center on my nameplate. "One month. Let's see which owner the little bitch wags her tail for." I closed the stream. Right then, a text from my dad lit up my phone: [Sweetheart, have you chosen your fiancé candidate?] I smirked, snapped a screenshot of the stream, and sent it. [Evaluation complete. All four disqualified.]

When Eliza takes a position as a healer in the Red Timber Wolves Pack, she has no idea that she is close to the man who once stole her heart. James, the devoted Alpha, is shocked to see Eliza, the simple country woman who broke his heart three years be-fore. James still loves her, and is shocked to discover that Eliza does not remember him, their engagement…or their passionate love affair.***James thought of jealousy at the persona he had created in her mind . . . A wolf that now commanded Elizabeth’s loyalty even after years of absence.A wolf that, apparently, no longer looked like him.James felt a rush of irrational jealousy for his past self, his self that could act without consequence, that could love his mate without fear.James stopped Elizabeth’s path, turned her to him and pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply.Her Forgotten Mate is created by Hannah Tatum Reading, an EGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

I was reborn on the very day my sister, Leena Fox, and I were choosing our mates. That was also when my mind-reading ability awakened. I heard her thoughts clearly. [I'm taking Collin! Ella can get Ethan, that emotionally abusive lunatic.] She lunged forward and claimed the so-called kind, gentle man I had married in my last life, while I was left with the Alpha heir who held real power but was rumored to be ruthless and cold. I let out a quiet laugh. Did she really think she had won some kind of prize?

My wife had risen through the ranks of the Confidential Bureau, becoming its youngest team leader—all thanks to the "voice" of the baby boy in her womb, who could somehow identify traitors from within. When the holidays came, I went to visit her. But the moment I arrived, I heard the voice of that unborn child in her belly. "Ah, it's Bad Daddy! He's the one who's been secretly selling off the core technology!" I froze, stunned. Before I could even speak, my wife raised her gun and fired. The bullet tore through my shoulder. "Who did you sell the technology to? Talk!" Through the searing pain, I struggled to explain. "I don't even know what technology you're talking about. How could I possibly—" Her expression turned glacial. Without a word, she lifted the gun again and pulled the trigger, blowing my head apart. "Mommy is amazing! Bad Daddy is finally gone. The stolen data is all hidden on that USB drive." Even as I died, I couldn't understand how I had become a traitor. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of the visit. This time, I took the initiative. I pulled out the USB drive and handed it to my wife. "If this is the evidence you want," I said, "go ahead, shoot me."

I saw a post while scrolling through my social media. [Adult male merman for sale. Hard to tame. Letting go for cheap.] I commented, [I'll take him.] The seller asked for ten thousand dollars and promised doorstep delivery. When I opened the package, the merman was nowhere near 160 pounds. He barely weighed over a hundred. His skin was sallow, his ribs visible beneath it, and his tail fin was rotting at the edges. I messaged the seller, [I want a refund.] The message failed to go through.

"How can you say that about me, Nathan? I never had a kid!" Aaron Fuller protests. My wife, Jenny Green, stands protectively in front of him. "That's enough! You can't slander Aaron just because you're jealous of him. Just you wait, Nathan. I haven't settled the score with you for calling Aaron this afternoon and insulting him!"

I quit and dipped. City threw a parade. Only Jenna Blake—my oh-so-gifted junior who claimed she could "see through killers' eyes"—lost it. At her celebration banquet, she went full drama queen: "I owe everything to Kate Mercer. Please, bring her back!" I laughed. Cold. Not happening. Last time around, I was the hotshot detective. But every clue I found? She dropped it first like she read my mind. People started saying I was washed. So I went all in—three months, no sleep, cracked a massive trafficking ring. Led the raid myself. She beat me there. Again. Place was cleaned out. Boom. She's the city's golden girl. I'm the clown with no game. Pressure got ugly. My head snapped. I died chasing the last scumbag. Then—bam. I woke up. Same day. Raid morning. Round two.

A split second before I swipe my card at the Hermès boutique, I hear my unborn son's scream inside my head. "Mom, don't buy this useless designer bag! The zombie apocalypse is only a month away! This is inedible, and it can't be used as a weapon either. What's the point of buying it? Buy essential food! Sell that limited-edition sports car at home and trade it for a bulletproof armored vehicle!" My hand trembles, and the purchase order worth millions scatters across the floor. The sales associate looks at me with disdain and says, "Ms. Webb, if you don't have enough funds, you can always come back another day." I ignore her and immediately turn around to call the owner of the wholesale market. Without wasting any time, I order, "I need 10,000 pounds of potatoes and 5,000 pounds of beef. Make sure it's the kind with the fatty parts! I want it delivered immediately!" From this moment onwards, the socialite Phoebe Webb who only knows how to shop is gone. In her place stands a survivalist obsessed with preparing for the end of the world.