Guardian Ward Novels & Stories

After Josephine’s father died suddenly, she is forced to become the ward of powerful Lord Leven. As a new face many men are willing to do whatever they can to win her hand. She must find a husband to secure her future, but in a world of backstabbing and positional play will she settle for what’s safe or follow her love for a man she can’t have?

When small town librarian Maryanne learns that she is the temporary guardian of her best friend’s toddler, she is ready to take on the responsibility of parenthood. However, when she discovers that she must co-parent Riley with Max, the charming billionaire playboy who broke her heart all those years ago, she is horrified. They have one year to decide who will be the better guardian; Max has one year to prove his love to Maryanne. As Max and Maryanne work side by side to create a loving home, Maryanne will see a new side of Max and realize just how badly she wants to change the past. Her Billionaire and Her Baby is created by Sierra Christenson, an EGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

Every person has an angel that watches over them to ensure that they make the rigth decision when possible. Everyone except Josie. Josie Tria has always seen the angelic beings, watching over each human, and when she turns twenty-two, she just about gives up on the hope that maybe she too has a guardian angel. But Josie is different, and she's not sure it's a good thing. When she walks near the angels, they cower in fear, and run from her. Then, everything changes when instead of her guardian angel appears, it turns out to be a demon, named Loss. Loss is hiding something from her, something Josie is determined to figure out. And it doesn't matter if she develops complicated feelings for Loss.

After getting into an accident, I pretend to be an amnesiac to pull a prank on my husband and son. "Who are you guys?" I ask. A hint of delight flickers in my son's eyes. He pulls a woman waiting outside the hospital ward inside and says, "My parents and I came to visit you, ma'am." My husband watches all of this happen without saying a word. He doesn't correct our son.

He watched her grow up. Now he can't stop watching her. Ayana Marcus came home for Christmas expecting family dinners and small-town boredom. What she didn't expect was Nelson Ward looking at her like she was something he'd been starving himself of for twenty years. He's forty-five. She's twenty-four. He's her father's best friend, the town's moral compass, a man who hasn't touched a woman since his fiancée died and took every good thing in him with her. She's the pastor's daughter. The good girl. The one who was never supposed to want something this dangerous. One kiss changes everything. Now she's sleeping in his bed, her father won't speak to her, the whole town is watching — and Nelson Ward, who spent two decades convincing himself he didn't deserve happiness, is learning what it costs to finally take it. Some men are worth the scandal. Some Decembers are worth burning everything down. UNHOLY DECEMBER — because the most sacred thing she ever did was love a man everyone told her was forbidden.

In the fourth year of her engagement to Mason Hart, Evelyn Ward still had not been able to marry him. The Hart family had produced officers for three generations, and marriages required approval from military headquarters. Yet every year, their marriage request was rejected. Until the fourth year, when Evelyn personally saw Mason alter the application. Only then did she realize that Mason had never intended to marry her at all.

God didn't hire me to play guardian angel. He'd send the devil instead and he did in the form of a woman. It's her. My downfall, my saviour, my redemption, my woman. Run, Camille, Run.

Flash Marriage with My Stoic Boss: Cold in Public, Passionate in Private Blurb Nora Ward has two rules for marriage: low-maintenance and zero drama. As a chief cardiology resident running on coffee and four hours of sleep, she doesn't have time for romance. A blind date gone wrong lands her at the wrong table with the right man — Adrian Cross, a cold, brutally efficient cardiothoracic surgeon just back from the US. They size each other up over iced coffee. Same schedule. Same pragmatism. Same need for a spouse who stays out of the way. Thirty minutes later, they leave the courthouse with a marriage certificate and no intention of ever seeing each other outside a hospital. Problem is — they work at the same hospital. And Adrian Cross just happens to be her department's newly appointed deputy chair. Now she has to face him at morning rounds, pretend he's a stranger, and ignore the way his voice drops an octave when he says "Dr. Ward" — professional, distant, infuriating. Rules are easy to make. Harder to keep when your stoic husband corners you in the on-call room after midnight and proves he's anything but cold. This is why you don't flash-marry your boss.

I brought home eighty dollars’ worth of durian. When my sister-in-law, Lily Ward, saw me, she clutched her stomach and screamed from the couch. “Ugh, my stomach! Summer, you know I can’t stand that smell. Are you trying to suffocate my baby?” Before I could even steady myself, my mother, Rosemary Ward, slapped me across the face. It made me see how much my mother favored my younger brother, Jasper Ward. When we were children, she always reminded me that he was younger and told me to give him a pass. I thought things might change after he grew up and got married. Instead, her favoritism only got worse. “Summer, you jinx! Hurry up and sign over your apartment to Jas to make up for this!” Watching Jasper pull out a property transfer agreement, I covered my swollen cheek and smiled. So, this whole act was just to get the apartment I had bought. “Sure.” They were delighted to see me agree readily. However, they failed to consider one thing. I might have willingly given it away, but I wondered if any of them had the nerve to take it.

Before I was wheeled into surgery, the nurse kept urging me to call a family member. At last, a delivery runner rushed into my ward, out of breath. "Hello, Ms. Wexler. Mr. Adrian Prescott placed an order for me to accompany you through surgery in Ward 907." My phone buzzed twice with a new notification. I lowered my head and saw Sophie Lane's latest post. "Caught a cold and sounded a little stuffy, and Mr. Prescott noticed right away. He insisted on taking me to the doctor and even made ginger tea for me. So spicy, but so sweet." The picture showed a tall, lean man with his shirt sleeves rolled up, pouring ginger tea from a saucepan into a thermos. His eyes were focused and gentle. I stared at the photo in a daze. I had been hospitalized for five days. My husband of five years, Adrian Prescott, had never visited once. He said he was busy with work. But once again, I saw him in Sophie Lane's social media post. That careful, gentle Adrian Prescott, the man who knew exactly how to love someone. Before I was pushed into the operating room, I submitted my resignation and made one phone call. "Mr. Powell, please print the divorce agreement."