Edgar Cut Meme Novels & Stories

Everyone in Asterhaven knew—Maxwell Porter hated Zoey Bradford. Hated how she clung so desperately to their marriage. Hated how she refused to set him free. He asked for a divorce. Ninety-nine times. But the hundredth time, when he thought she'd turn him down like always, her voice cut through the air, cold as ice that had been frozen for a thousand years. "Fine. Let's get divorced."

She blankly stares at the unfamiliar ceiling. 'Didn't I die?! I'm sure I cut my wrist. I felt it! I watched my blood flow before I blacked out! What's happening?!' She is Raine, an orphan who died by her own hands... Now she's given a new life and a family. A life in ancient times.Author: Please excuse my lapses on grammar as I am an amateur writer.

My grandfather, the company’s chairman, had an unmistakable obsession with pink. Not only had he decorated his entire house in soft rosy hues, but he even had his newly purchased Rimac Nevera repainted in blush pink. I was home for the summer. On the day he got his new car, he excitedly asked me to drive him to work. We had just entered the underground parking garage when a black Rolls-Royce suddenly blared its horn and sped up to cut in front of me. It then slammed on the brakes without warning. Unable to react in time, I crashed straight into it. The driver lowered his window and cursed at me. His face was twisted with arrogance. “Are you blind? Vixen, can’t you drive?” Swallowing my anger, I retorted, “You were the one who deliberately cut me off. How can you twist this around and blame me?” He let out a mocking snort. “You women in pink cars are hopeless drivers, yet you still blame others? You had it coming. You must be a new intern. Let me tell you something. You’ve just hit the chairman’s car. Get ready to go bankrupt!” My grandfather and I exchanged a baffled look. If that was the chairman’s car, what were we in?

It was my twentieth birthday. My father presented me with the photos of many rich heiresses across the nation. He wanted me to pick the one to have a political marriage with. I told him I wanted to leave that in the hands of fate. Why? In my previous life, I picked Rachel Osborne, an heiress from Shampton. And I did that without hesitation. After we got married, I found out her true love, Zacharias Newman, had gotten himself drunk at a bar. The reason? He was heartbroken that we got married. And while he was drunk, a robber mugged him and cut off his hand's tendons. He tried to kill himself three times, and who did my wife blame? Me. She extracted my family's assets and gave them all to her beloved. My family was left as an empty husk. And she let him cut our brake lines. Thanks to him, my family and I died in a horrifying car crash. This was my second life. This time, I chose Seraphina Oliviera, an heiress from Fortunopolis. She was someone who couldn't care less about worldly matters and was a God-fearing woman. Eventually, I showed up at the engagement with Seraphina, but that apparently drove Rachel mad.

Three years ago, my husband, my parents, and my adopted sister faked their deaths to test whether I had married into the DeLuca family for love or for power. They cut off my money, took my home, and left me and my son with nothing. Three years later, they came back. My husband stepped out of a black Rolls-Royce, looked down at me, and said, “Evelyn, you passed the test.” What he didn’t know was that my son was already dead. And I was dying too.

A sadistic being develops an ominous obsession with an anxiety ridden young woman. Feasting himself on her fears, and devouring her body and mind. Noxodius knows that he has gone too far, but he can he stop himself? Can he let the little human go? Will he cut her loose after he gets his fill, or will he swallow her whole? When he realizes things might not be as they seem, will he have biten off more than he can chew?

"You are getting married, huh?" A shrill voice asked me from behind. "You don't look happy.' "It's a complicated situati..." He cut me off. "I can make you happy." My eyes darted between his lips and eyes, he noticed my indecision and locked his lips with mine. While battling with betrayal, Iris melts into a mafia's touch without knowing who he is. Now she must bear all the consequences that follow.

Jade Smith is a beautiful Jamaican woman who just so happened to catch the eye of billionaire, Nathan Masters. Jade is currently running from her past only to run into the arms of a man she didn't expect. Jade is black and Nathan is white but it doesn't matter to them or their families or at least that's what Nathan thought. Insert a crazy ex, an unexpected pregnancy and a blast from the past- they have their work cut out for them. Will there love survive all the drama or will they call it quits?

One year. No city luxuries. No running away. Julian is a reckless billionaire who just got cut off from his family trust and Savannah is a trapped ranch heiress suffocating under her father’s control. They need this arranged marriage to buy their freedom, but they hate each other on sight. Forced to survive twelve months together on a rugged Washington ranch, they expect a battle of wills and clash at all times but they didn't expect the dangerous spark that threatens to burn their contract to ash.

She was born with nothing. He rules with everything. Elara has no wolf. No rank. No voice. For five years, her own pack has beaten her, branded her, and fed her scraps like a stray. Her blood runs black—the mark of a Null, a creature the Moon Goddess rejected. Her uncle, the Alpha, cut her throat so she couldn't scream. Her only crime: existing. When he exiles her naked into a blizzard, she crawls into a hollow log to die. That is where Kaelen Blackthorn finds her. The Alpha of the Nightshade Dominion is the most feared predator in three centuries. Cold. Arrogant. Merciless. He has torn apart nine packs and never knelt for anyone. But the moment his burning red eyes land on her broken body, his wolf speaks a word he has never spoken before: Mine. He takes her to his fortress. Heals her. Trains her. Claims her as his fated mate. He promises to burn her enemies to ash. But Kaelen does not know the truth Elara carries in her black blood. A Null is not empty. A Null is a vessel. Twenty-two years of pain, cruelty, and stolen magic sleep inside her. When she finally learns to wake that power, even the Wolf King will learn a hard lesson: He didn't rescue a victim. He sharpened a blade. And blades, eventually, cut the hand that holds them.