True Archer Novels & Stories

After following my grandfather abroad for five years of training, he finally entrusted me with the family authority—something he had given me with complete satisfaction. But my stepmother and my three younger stepbrothers were anything but pleased. Ever since I returned home, they had been blasting those ridiculous "real heiress versus fake heiress" dramas throughout the house, day after day. Sometimes openly, sometimes in veiled remarks, they hinted that I didn't resemble my father at all. On the day of my twentieth birthday—my official debut before the public—they even brought in a complete stranger and tried to brand me as the impostor. My stepmother looked at me, the corner of her lips curling in disdain. "Where did this counterfeit come from? Even if you're wearing a stolen gown, you can't hide that cheap, shabby air about you." My three younger stepbrothers shoved me to the ground, shielding the girl beside them—the one wearing my family's heirloom necklace. "We only have one sister, and that's Camellia! Wherever you came from, go back there!" In an instant, the guests' mocking gazes all converged on me. And in the very next second, I stepped forward and slapped my stepmother across the face. "If anyone should be leaving, it's you. Take a good look at what this is!" Then, the moment they saw what I was holding in my hand, the entire room fell into stunned silence.

Three years earlier, my adoptive parents were arrested for human trafficking, and the police finally tracked down my biological family. However, tragedy struck before they could bring me home. They were involved in a car accident on their way to pick me up. My parents and younger sister were killed instantly. Only my older brother, Derrick, survived because he had been working overtime that night. Not long after the accident, he was diagnosed with ALS. When we finally met, hatred filled his eyes. “If it were not for you, our family would still be together.” From that moment, I carried the weight of three deaths on my shoulders. I also took responsibility for the debt left behind by the accident, along with the rest of Derrick’s life. I dropped out of school and worked four jobs at the same time. When I felt hungry, I survived on cheap bread. When I became sick, I endured it and kept going. Every dollar I earned went toward Derrick’s medication. For three years, that was my life. Until one day, while delivering food to a private club, I saw the person who was supposed to be bedridden at home, waiting for me to turn him over in bed. Derrick. He stood beside a billiards table with a cue in his hand. His movements were smooth, precise, and completely free. No trace of illness could be seen. He struck the cue ball cleanly. One of his friends laughed and said, “Derrick, you have been faking ALS for three years. Even if this was a test, do you not think it has gone on long enough?” Derrick lined up another shot without looking up. “Harriet was raised by traffickers for ten years. No one knows what she learned from them. How could we bring her back into the Lawson family without testing her first? “Besides, Sheila was terrified that we would abandon her once we found our real family. She cried about it more than once. We needed to give her time to adjust.” A flicker of discomfort crossed his friend’s face. “However, Harriet has worked herself to the bone to pay for your treatment.” Another ball dropped into a pocket. Derrick smiled, pleased with himself. “Sheila and my parents are flying back tomorrow. Once they arrive, I will arrange for Harriet to return to the Lawson family. After that, I will make it up to her.” I lowered my head as a burning sensation rose inside my nose. A mechanical voice suddenly echoed in my mind. [Congratulations, Host. The Obsession Commission has been completed. Would you like to claim your reward?] I wiped away the blood that trickled from my nose. “Yes,” I replied quietly. “Claim it.” In three days, I would finally be going home. The Lawson family had never been the home I wanted.

After fifteen years away, I was finally brought back to the DeLuca family. I thought I was returning to my real home. Instead, I walked into a house where the adopted daughter wanted me dead, my father treated me like a burden, and my brothers would rather watch me bleed than make her cry. On my first day back, she set dogs on me. That night, I was dragged to the top of the observatory and forced to apologize to her. When I fell from the tower covered in blood, they still called me a liar. Because in the DeLuca family, I may have been the real daughter by blood— but she was the daughter they loved. She thought she could bully me, poison me, and freeze me to death without consequence. She was wrong. Because the night I nearly died, my mother finally chose me—and turned a gun on the whole DeLuca family.

I had been in a secret relationship with my mafia boyfriend, Dante Castellano, for seven years. No public contact. No photos together. No proof I had ever stood by his side. He told me, "Once I'm powerful enough that no one dares touch you, I'll make it official." I believed him. The day before our seventh anniversary, I found a ten-carat diamond ring in his suit jacket. I cried with joy, thinking seven years of hiding were finally over. The next morning, I wore my most expensive dress and sprayed on the only perfume he had ever given me. I practiced my smile in the mirror, the one I would give when he proposed. Then, my phone lit up with a breaking news alert. [Breaking News: Seven-Year Love Story Reaches Perfect Ending—Romance Blogger Alessia Romano Accepts Boyfriend's 100th Proposal!] In the photo, the influencer with eight million followers stood on her tiptoes, kissing a man. His hand rested on the back of her neck. On that hand was a scar I would never mistake. It was the scar Dante got when he took a knife for me.

The most powerful Godfather in the mafia underworld—Dante Costello—had an expensive diamond signet ring custom-made to fit my finger perfectly and sent straight to our home. He said that whoever could wear the ring would become the lady of his family. The Monroe family had long since fallen from grace. All that remained were four women. On ordinary days, we fought endlessly, tearing each other apart. Every single one of us wanted to marry Dante because marrying him meant preserving a life of dignity and comfort. In the first life, the fake heiress, Blair, secretly had the ring resized smaller and married into the family. Dante took one look at her, then had her thrown into the river to drown. “Not her.” In the second life, my cousin, Chloe, underwent plastic surgery to alter her fingers and force the ring on. Dante gifted her a staged car accident. “Still not her.” In the third life, my stepmother, Catherine, clenched her teeth and forced the ring onto her finger. Her blood hadn’t even dried when she married Dante. He coldly slashed her face, then locked her in the basement, where she slowly wasted away until death. By the fourth life, all three of them were terrified. None of them dared to marry him anymore, so they hurriedly pushed me forward instead. I put on the ring. This time, the size was perfect. Just when I thought my good days had finally begun, Dante stabbed me to death on our wedding night, his eyes burning red with madness. After my rebirth, the consigliere of the Dante family delivered the ring once again. This time, all four of us avoided it like the plague.

After seven years of secretly dating Ross Stockdale, I found a proposal folder hidden in his study. Inside were a seaside dinner plan, a fireworks schedule, and a handwritten vow card. I nearly cried from happiness. I thought Ross was finally going to bring me into the open and give me a home. But on our seventh anniversary, I saw a short video posted by Samora Leone. In the video, the Leone family’s private marina was lit like daylight. Fireworks burst over the water while Samora stood before the family representatives with her arm linked through Ross’s. The caption read: Thank you for loving me all these years. I said yes. The man in the video was Ross. His hand rested on Samora’s waist, and on his finger was the matching silver ring I had designed for him years ago. Everyone believed Samora was the long-lost daughter of the Leone family. They were wrong. The real Leone heir was me.

After writing an essay about the future I wanted, I made a desperate appeal to my parents, just as Aaron Wade was likely doing in the hall of a business his family owned. The appeal lasted two days. Our demand was simple: annul the engagement between us. Others might have found this confusing, but I knew exactly why it mattered. In my previous life, I married Aaron and gave him everything. I devoted my career to him and stood at the peak of his business empire. He repaid me by forcing me to take the fall for Rebecca, a so-called heiress. I was arrested and sent to prison. "Had you not forced us into an engagement the moment you got into Iale University, I would have ended up with her instead," he sneered. "You owe her this, Bernadette. It's time you paid up." Even my own parents joined in. "You robbed Becky of what she deserves. Think of this as your divine retribution!" They had supported the engagement back then. Rage overwhelmed me and triggered a cardiac arrest. I died on the spot. While my body lay cold in the morgue, Aaron and Rebecca held a lavish wedding at a five-star hotel to celebrate their union. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day I had written about the future I wanted. Now I knew what that future looked like. It had none of these people in it. This time, I would live for myself.

Katherine “Kate” Archer has been chosen by the Moon Goddess as the Mate of her pack’s Alpha, Anthony, and the pack’s new Luna. But when a vampire clan seeks an alliance secured through a marriage, they choose Kate to marry their leader, Adrian King. Kate finds herself torn between Anthony, her kind Alpha who was chosen by the Goddess, and the cold but attractive Adrian.

"I reject you! Lucas Archer Farrow from the White Walkers Pack! From now on, I will be nobody's Luna but myself!" The youngest multi-billionaire Alpha in werewolf history turned out to be a woman. Leah Lewyn walked out of the airport in low profile and was immediately surrounded by hundreds of paparazzi. "Why did you reject your ex-husband, Alpha Lucas of the White Walkers?" a reporter asked. "Are you kidding me? I've got my own wolf pack to run and a gazillion-dollar fortune to inherit," she replied. "Is it true that you're currently having affairs with 8 young actors at the same time?" another reporter inquired. "Give me a break," Leah rolled her eyes and chuckled. "They're young aspiring contract models." She barely finished her words before someone walked out of the crowd and stated in a cold voice, "She is currently having an affair with no one else but me, her one and only ex-husband." "Miss Lewyn, I've got a wolf pack to run and a gazillion dollars as well. Why don't you come and be my Luna, so you can inherit my money?"

I'd been with Alpha Adrian Grant for eight years, but he never once allowed me to go public with our relationship. On the eve of my birthday, I learned he'd bid on a priceless moonstone ring at auction. I could barely contain my excitement—I thought he was finally going to claim me openly. But on my birthday, I saw the photos on the news. Adrian, kissing another she-wolf. And on Vivian's hand—the one wrapped around his neck—was the very moonstone ring I'd been dreaming about. It hit me like a bolt of lightning. I drove toward Moonlight Forest, but halfway there, a pack of rogues ambushed me. Desperate, I reached through the mate bond, trying to connect with Adrian. Every single time, he shut me out. Just when I'd given up hope, a passerby drove the rogues off and rushed me to the hospital. My pup was gone—lost in the attack. I called Adrian through my tears, over and over. On the twenty-fifth try, the call finally connected. But the voice I heard wasn't his. "Ugh, so annoying. You promised you'd spend today with me—just me. Why are you taking calls from other she-wolves?" Adrian immediately set me aside, his tone turning honey-sweet as he soothed the woman in his arms. "I know, I know. I'll ignore her. She's just some orphan with no family—how could she possibly compare to you?" Their smug laughter pierced through the phone like a knife to the chest. But what they didn't know was this: I was the true daughter of the Oceanridge Pack Alpha—his only heir. Vivian Blake was nothing more than a girl my family had taken in out of pity. I opened the mind-link to my father. "Dad, I'm coming home. And that arranged mating you mentioned—I agree. But I have two conditions. First, remove Vivian from the pack. Second, cut all ties with Crescent Moon Pack and pull every cent of funding we've ever given them."