Freeze Framing Novels & Stories

On the day my dad gets kidnapped, I call my wife, Eliza Wood, who has a net worth of 100 million dollars, for help while sobbing. After she hears me out, she lets out a chuckle. "I've transferred three million dollars to you. This time, be a good boy and don't bother Leon." I quickly agree to Eliza's condition. After that, I transfer the money into the kidnapper's bank account. But when Dad is about to get released, Eliza pulls off some tricks to retrieve the ransom money and freeze the kidnapper's bank account. Thinking that I've tricked him, the furious kidnapper decides to kill Dad. But first, he torments Dad for three long hours before finally ending his life. When I'm on the way to pick up Dad's ashes, I notice photos of Eliza and her newly-hired assistant, Leon Turner, taking over every billboard and monitor in the city. After dealing with Dad's ashes at home, I call Eliza on the phone. "Let's get a divorce." Eliza and Leon's laughter can be heard drifting over the speaker. "This again? Leon told me that you're spending too much money, so he convinced me to give you a light punishment. Don't tell me you got mad at me because of that."

On my first day of work, I found myself face-to-face with the "Reaper", the infamously cold CEO, Silas Vance. I was paralyzed; he was the spitting image of Lucas Thorne, the treacherous ex who bankrupted me and left me for dead in my previous life. "Get out," he commanded, his voice cold. Just as I reached the door knob, a frantic, ecstatic voice erupted inside my head: [Holy crap! Is this my long-lost fiancee? She is a million times more stunning than her pictures! Is she already head-over-heels for me? Quick, I need to say something harsh to maintain my cool persona!] I freeze, the truth hitting me like a lightning bolt. He isn’t my ex. He’s the man my grandfather betrothed me to in childhood, whom I rejected in my previous life before falling prey to a swindler. Silas thought I was here to break off the engagement. Little did he know, I returned from the grave with a secret weapon: I could hear every one of his thoughts. 'Go ahead, Silas. Keep up the cold, untouchable act. With your heart screaming your secrets directly into my brain, I’m going to peel back those layers of yours one by one until you’re completely under my thumb. 'This time, the game is mine.'

My mate, Ethan Rickman, is an Omega without a wolf. No official position is willing to hire him. That means we live in poverty, but I've always believed that our love can overcome anything. Seven years after our mating, hunger drives me and our son, Theo Rickman, to dig through trash bins late at night, looking for food. Theo moves quickly and quietly. He's become skilled at it. With a cheerful grin, he whispers to me, "Mom, this bin belongs to an award-winning restaurant! The food's fresh and tastes great. Let's bring some back for Dad!" The next day, I put on the cleanest clothes I own and head to that same restaurant, hoping to get hired as a janitor. If I get the job, maybe I can bring home leftovers before they're tossed out. But when I look up, I see Ethan stepping out of a luxury car worth millions. Behind him stands a woman and child, both dressed in designer clothes. I recognize her instantly. She's Mira Alstone, his childhood sweetheart. The restaurant owner gives me an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Ms. Everdeen. Alpha Ethan reserved the whole place for Mira today. I have to focus on serving them, so I don't have time for interviews. Maybe come back another day?" In that moment, Theo and I both freeze where we stand.

On New Year’s Eve, my fiancee, Delilah Carrington, left me to freeze to death in subzero snow. As my body went numb, she was wrapped in the military coat I had found for her, curled up in Everett Kingsley’s arms while eating the holiday groceries I had paid for. When I opened my eyes again, I was back before everything fell apart. So when she called—cold, demanding, rattling off a shopping list like I owed her—I hung up, blocked her number, and made my move. I sealed off Blackridge Logistics Hub, the largest logistics hub in the country. Stockpiling supplies? Pointless. Because my coworkers and I had more packages than we could ever open: seafood delicacies, premium cigars, top-shelf liquor, and industrial generators. Hundreds of millions of shipments meant for the holidays were now all mine. Inside a warehouse kept at a steady 26°C, I ate wagyu steak and watched the world collapse through surveillance feeds. I witnessed Delilah’s entire family tear each other apart over half a moldy pack of crackers. I thought I could live like this forever. I was wrong. In the apocalypse, the most dangerous thing isn’t what’s waiting outside. It’s the people who refuse to stop playing the hero.

When my mother won a million dollars from a lottery ticket, she prepared an envelope for each of her three children. After we opened them, my younger brother and younger sister each found a bank card inside. But from my envelope, two 1-dollar coins clinked onto the floor. Seeing me freeze, a trace of unease flickered across Mother's face. "Cassian," she said hesitantly, "Logan and Sienna suffered a lot growing up because your father passed away so early. So I gave each of them 500 thousand dollars as compensation. "You're the eldest son—like a father to them. Don't fight with them over this, okay?" I glanced down at the faded down jacket I had worn for years, the fabric so worn that it had lost its color. Then, my eyes drifted to my younger brother's limited-edition sneakers and to the designer bag slung over my sister's shoulder. Mother seemed to have forgotten that when Father died, I had only been eight. I smiled faintly. "Alright. I won't fight them for it." Hearing this, Mother let out a long breath of relief. The next second, my voice turned cold. "Then I won't fight for the responsibility of supporting you in your old age either."

My junior accidentally broke the most expensive piece of equipment in the lab and asked me to help fix it. I had just started touching the instrument when she suddenly stepped back, tears brimming, and said, "Michelle, I can't take responsibility for this. I really can't afford it." Before I could even process her words, Nicky Hardy—the unattainable crush I had chased for three years—rushed in and shielded her behind him. Then he turned to me with a glare that could freeze fire. "Michelle, don't go too far. You can't expect her to take the fall for you." I stared at him, dumbfounded. "You know full well I was shoved into this research group. I don't understand any of this stuff. How could I do the experiments on my own?" His eyes grew colder, dripping with disdain. "I've been saying it—what can a nepo baby actually accomplish? And now the equipment's ruined, and you still have the nerve to push the blame onto Elizabeth?" I opened my mouth to argue, but then I caught a flicker of triumph across Elizabeth Horwitz's face in Nicky's arms. That was when it clicked. They only knew I got in through connections—they had no idea I'd financed this very equipment myself. They wanted to play their petty power games over a piece of lab equipment worth over ten million? Interesting.

Los Angeles was supposed to be my home. Instead, it had always felt like a golden cage. The Smith mansion stood tall behind iron gates, glittering with wealth and silence. Servants bowed. Cameras watched every corner. And the man who called himself my uncle smiled sweetly for the world while hiding knives behind his back. I was seventeen when I heard the truth. “He will take care of the girl tonight,” my uncle said over the phone, his voice calm. “Make it look like an accident.” The girl. He meant me. Fear became the only thing that kept my legs moving. I ran from the driver who was meant to take me home, sprinting through unfamiliar streets until the bright city lights disappeared and the world turned darker. Detroit. Wrong place. Wrong time. Engines roared in the distance when I saw him. A man sitting on a black motorcycle like a shadow carved from danger. Tattoos curled up his neck. His eyes were cold enough to freeze the night. Everyone knew men like him were monsters. But monsters were sometimes the only ones who could save you. I jumped onto the back of his motorcycle and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Please,” I whispered. “Help me.” That single moment would destroy his life. And change mine forever. *******

Luke moved then. Fast. Too fast. One second he was across the room, the next he was in front of her, towering over her like a wall of heat and fury. His hands came up, gripping her arms not gently, not cruelly, but with a force that said he was one second from shattering. “You think I don’t fight for you every damn day?” His voice was low, dangerous, vibrating with something raw. “You think I don’t take bullets for you behind the scenes? Every single move I make is to keep you breathing, Abigail. So don’t you dare stand there and act like I’m doing nothing.” Her breath hitched, but the anger didn’t stop burning. “Then say it to her. Say it to their faces instead of hiding behind silence like a coward!” Something snapped in his eyes then something sharp and blazing. And before Abigail could blink, his mouth was on hers. The kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was a collision hard, punishing, desperate. All the rage, the fear, the need that had been coiling between them exploded like fire. Abigail gasped against him, her hands going up to his chest, meaning to push him away except she didn’t. Just couldn’t. Because the second his tongue slid against hers, the second his body pressed flush against hers, every bone in her body melted. Luke growled low in his throat, a sound that made heat curl deep in her belly. He spun her, slamming her gently but firmly against the wall, his hands framing her face as he devoured her mouth like he’d been starving for years.

After being released from my three-year sentence, Zoe Sanders finally found me in an underground fight club. The moment she saw me, she grabbed me by the collar and punched me across the face, her eyes burning red with fury. "Henry Goldman, who gave you the nerve to disappear like this? "And what the hell have you done to yourself?" I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and laughed carelessly. "One punch, one hundred thousand. "If you’re still angry, feel free to keep going. I could use the money for this year’s rent." Her fists trembled uncontrollably, but her voice softened. "Come home with me... apologize to Ronald Green. "He’s always been kind-hearted. He already forgave you for framing him." Her gaze swept over the scars covering my body, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. "Look at yourself. Covered in blood like this... what’s the difference between you and a stray dog digging through garbage?" My body stiffened. Then I turned and walked away. What she did not know was this: In prison, blood and violence were the only ways I learned to survive. "Don’t forget," she shouted after me, "I’m still your fiancée!" My footsteps stopped. How could I forget? Three years ago, on the night of our engagement, Ronald drugged me and sent me to a black-market auction. I was stripped of all dignity and sold like merchandise. That night, I became the laughingstock of the entire city. And the person who signed the papers that sold me… was my fiancée herself.

"My husband walks about freely, lavishing my fortune, with his mistress by his side, while I am condemned to spend the rest of my life in an island prison for his death. If this is my fate, I will fight it until my last breath."~~~ MARIANNE Betrayed by the ones she trusted most, Marianne finds herself convicted for a crime she did not commit. In a desperate attempt to change her new reality, she ends up at the brink of death but gets a second chance in Troy; An unusually sexy billionaire willing to place the world at her feet. Marianne swears she is done with men and love, and her life's goal is revenge against those who wronged her. But why does her heart race uncontrollably at the sound of his voice? ***His hands reached out, framing my face, his fingers tracing the outline of my lips as if committing them to memory. His touch moved lower, his thumbs grazing the sensitive peaks of my nipples. The sensation sent a wave of pleasure rippling through me, making it impossible to think. I closed my eyes as his lips found the crook of my neck, kissing and biting lightly, leaving me breathless and trembling. "Troy," I panted, my eyes flying open as I took a step back, trying to create distance between us. But he followed me, closing the gap I had made. His voice was low, a whisper that seemed to reach into my soul. "Do I scare you?" I nodded, my eyes unable to meet his, looking anywhere but at him. His brows furrowed as he gently lifted my chin, forcing me to face him. "Why, Anne?" I swallowed hard, trying to find the words. "Because... you make me feel things I've never felt before."***