Karma Akabane Novels & Stories

My body drifted in the river for five years before a fishing enthusiast reeled it in. Even though the forensic pathologist managed to reconstruct my face from when I was alive through craniofacial reconstruction technology, the hatred my brother had for me remained as strong as ever. "That better be her body! She has been on the run for five years! Even in death, she doesn't deserve pity! In fact, it simply is a disgrace to have a murderer like her as the daughter of the Clarke family!" he hissed. Everyone thought he despised me with every fiber of his being. Yet, as he spoke, his entire body trembled. Who would have guessed that the distress call I made to him five years ago would end up becoming the main factor that hastened my death?

I returned home after studying abroad for three years, only to find that my brother’s girlfriend had brought her entire family to live in my mansion. The moment they saw me, they pinned me against the floor. "How dare you! Call him your sweetheart, spend his money, and now you're here to take my mansion? " When I saw the girlfriend’s crazed antics, I was shocked. “Who did you say owns the mansion?” “It’s my boyfriend’s, but it’ll be mine sooner or later. It has nothing to do with you.” With her parents, she yanked off the ancient pendant on my neck and crushed my heirloom bracelet. They even tied up my limbs, put me on the table, and positioned me in a humiliating pose to post online. Her brother pinned my legs down and reached under my shirt…

During the three years after I'm diagnosed with a malignant tumor, my husband performs over 30 major surgeries on me so he can keep me around to donate my corneas to his true love. Finally, when she has the courage to face her illness under his encouragement, he follows a doctor's advise and gives up on treating me. I laugh when taking my last breath. He has no idea that the cancer has already spread to my eyes. He won't be transplanting my corneas in his true love's eyes—he'll be planting cancer in her.

My husband is a haute couture designer. When his true love goes blind in her right eye, he goes to his mother's ward and asks her for help in getting me to sign an organ donation agreement. What he doesn't know is that I'm already dead.

I'm severely allergic to many things, so my husband buys a separate villa for me. It's supposed to be sort of a nursing home. When my future daughter-in-law learns about this, she thinks my son is cheating on her. She breaks my bones to vent her anger. When she finds out I'm her future mother-in-law, she caresses her belly and looks at me smugly. "I'm already pregnant with Shawn's child. Think about whether you want this child to make it into this world." What she doesn't know is that the Ziegler family's fortune belongs to me and that Shawn Ziegler is only my adoptive son.

We were on our way to celebrate our son’s birthday when we got into a car crash. When I woke up, I looked at my family gathered around my hospital bed and cracked a joke: “Sorry, but who are you guys?” I held back a smile, curious to see how they'd humor their "amnesiac" patient. Would my mother grab my hand in a panic? Would my husband look at me with worry? Would my son rush over, crying and calling me Mom? What I didn't expect was for them to freeze for a moment—and then, almost in unison, let out sighs of relief. My mother was the first to speak, her tone unmistakably lighter, as if a huge weight had been lifted. "If you don’t remember, it’s probably for the best. This is Lindsay—your sister, she’s my daughter. You were adopted." My husband then pointed at me and said to our son, "You should call her Aunt Wendy." Before the shock could even sink in, I watched the child I'd fought so hard to protect turn and throw himself into the arms of Lindsay. "Mom! I played outside all day. I missed you so much!" So that was the truth. My amnesia was exactly what they'd been hoping for. In that case, I didn't need this made-up life anymore.

My secretary replaced me on my wedding day, walking down the aisle in a white wedding gown. The man I had loved for ten years threw the bridesmaid dress in my face and ordered me to wear it instead. "She is the bride now. You'll be next," he said coldly. My grandmother was so furious that she fell ill on the spot. Meanwhile, he and the secretary smiled brightly as they completed the wedding ceremony. After the grand wedding, the secretary posted photos of herself in her wedding gown on social media. The comments were overwhelmingly congratulatory. [Today is such a beautiful day, I finally got what I wanted. I hope those who try to ruin someone else's relationship will wake up soon.] She wrote. Chester Morrison replied to her post: [It is a great day. Don't ruin your good mood by some trash.] When I returned home, holding my grandmother's photo, who had passed away, I found them tangled together on the bedspread my grandmother had lovingly sewn for me, the one with a pair of Swan that symbolizes eternal love.

After being reborn, the first thing I did was switch my newborn daughter. In my previous life, soon after she was born, a blood test showed her type was AB. But mine was B, and my husband's was O—there was absolutely no way we could have an AB-type child. My husband flew into a rage and demanded a paternity test on the spot. To everyone's shock, the results proved she was biologically related to me, but not to him. He slapped me hard across the face, his voice trembling with disappointment. "I've always treated you well. I only ever loved you—and this is how you repay me?" My mother-in-law wailed and cursed me for cheating, accusing me of bearing another man's child to steal their family fortune. I was completely stunned. I knew better than anyone who the father of my child was—how could she possibly not be my husband's? In no time, everyone turned against me. They called me a cheater, a tramp. My husband divorced me and went online to play the victim, stirring up a storm of hate and harassment that never seemed to end. With nowhere to go and no one left to believe me, I took my baby in my arms and jumped from a building. Even in death, I couldn't make sense of it all. And when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my daughter was born.

I'm a campus belle who's addicted to carnal pleasures. The frequent triggers caused by my addiction have heavily affected my and Michael Buckley, my boyfriend's lives and studies. Left without a choice, Michael and I can only head over to the campus clinic to undergo treatment that helps me cut down on my addiction. The one administering treatment to me happens to be a well-built doctor. The way he treats me shocks me to no end. Later on, he straps me to the examination table. I'm so frightened that I keep begging him to release me with tears running down my cheeks. But he responds by lifting my legs roughly.

"Miss Jackson, are you certain you want to undergo hypnosis? You should know that once the hypnosis begins, it cannot be reversed. Your body will be controlled by an alternate personality, and you will fall into a sleep from which you will never wake up again," the doctor asked in a grave tone from the other end of the phone. "Yes, I'm certain," Nina Jackson replied calmly.