When They Cry Novels & Stories

My name is Lena, and until last week, my biggest worry was the late return fees at the library where I work. I was ordinary, invisible, and I liked it that way. Then a pack of rogue werewolves attacked me in a dark alley, and two monsters saved my life—or so I thought. The first was Caspian, a vampire prince carved from ice and centuries of solitude. His gaze held no warmth, yet when he looked at me, something ancient and hungry flickered in his eyes. The second was Kael, the Alpha of the Northern pack, all burning muscles and wild possessiveness. He took one sniff of my skin and declared me his “mate” without a second thought. Now I’m caught between a cold, opulent castle and a warm, chaotic pack territory. Caspian’s touch sends shivers down my spine, while Kael’s fierce protection makes me feel safe for the first time in years. They are sworn enemies, bound by a blood feud older than any city, yet both refuse to let me go. But the real danger isn’t their rivalry. Strange things are happening to my body—I can hear thoughts, heal faster, and the full moon sings to my blood. I’m not just a human caught between two worlds. I am the last of the Hybrid Blood, a forgotten lineage that could either unite the species or destroy them all. And the one who controls me, controls the night.

I am not my parents' biological son. When they find their son and bring him back, he looks skinny and malnourished. My parents feel sorry for him, so they offer him compensation. But Kenneth Lawson says, "I am your son. If you are going to compensate me, then give me the company." My family persuades me by saying, "You are not related by blood after all. You should return the position to him." With a smile, I hand everything over to him. The next day, the company's biggest client, core technical team, and all distributors announce that they will only work with me. My parents panic and rush to beg me. I fold my arms and say, "Tell your biological son to come and beg me—the employee—to go back."

On the day of our wedding, Liam Hopkins’ childhood sweetheart stood by the bridge, threatening to take her own life. The moment he hung up the phone, he was ready to leave. Desperately, I clung to his sleeve. “Liam, if you walk out that door, it’s over between us!” “Diana! This is a matter of life and death. I’ll marry you, but don’t make a scene!” With those words, he turned and rushed away, leaving me standing alone. Determined, I spun around and completed the wedding vows with another man. But later, he dared to ask why I didn’t wait for him. I laughed coldly. “Belated love? It’s cheaper than dirt.”

Think of this as a cyberpunk Bridget Jones’ Diary, if Bridget were a self-destructive tech refugee with a cocaine habit and a holographic archangel for a conscience. This is adarkly comedic character studyset in a near-future that feels just a few software updates away. It’s a story about addiction, both chemical and digital, and the messy, painful, and sometimes hilarious struggle to reclaim your own messy life from the algorithms designed to “optimize” it. At its heart, it’s the story of the most dysfunctional friendship imaginable: between a woman who is her own worst enemy, and the godlike AI she reprogrammed to be her partner-in-crime. It’s raw, it’s visceral, and it explores whether real connection can be found once you’ve burned all your bridges, and broken your operating system.

From the time I could count coins, my parents hammered one lesson home—if a boy did not start saving young, he would never have enough to win himself a wife. They opened a bank account in my name, vowing that money would only ever flow in, never out. And so, every birthday bill and crumpled allowance found a home in that card. I kept funneling every hard-earned paycheck into that same old account even after I moved to the city to chase my own future. At that point, that habit was done more out of reflex than reason. However, I was blindsided by acute kidney failure after years of working myself to the bone. Suddenly, that money was not just savings—it was my lifeline. My dad's voice trembled on the phone. He claimed he had forgotten the password and urged me to just take out an online loan for now. I hauled myself to the bank, my feet still shaky from my dialysis treatment. I clutched my ID, determined to file a loss report and reset the password myself. The teller's words froze me in place. "Sir, this account was emptied six months ago." Panic surged through me. I demanded a full printout of every transaction. The statement of the most recent transfer glared up at me from the paper, stating, "Wedding fund for our precious daughter, Natalia Callahan, plus the down payment for her luxury car."

After six years of working as a corpse porter, I finally saved enough money to treat my sister, Maeve Xander, for her liver cancer. Maeve, however, casually refused the surgery. “I’m not actually sick. Mom and Dad aren’t dead either. I staged that car accident. You’re the only one who ended up seriously hurt and disabled.” Then my wife, Laurel Jinks, also confessed, “I’m not bankrupt. Every time I said I had to work late, it was because I didn’t want to cram into that filthy basement with you. I was going back to my mansion. I originally planned to punish you for three more years, but you reek of dead bodies. Maeve and I just can’t take the smell anymore.” A wave of pure absurdity washed over me as my body froze with the hand holding my credit card still in the air. Maeve snatched the card from my hand and tossed it into the trash. “That card is empty. I gave all the money you made carrying corpses to homeless people. Think of it as doing good deeds for the child you lost. After all, taking money from the dead is cursed. It’s bad luck all the way down. We shouldn’t touch that filthy money.” A chill ran down my spine. I did not understand why they treated me this way. Then, I saw my parents. They were standing far away from me, as if I were a plague. I completely broke down. “You bullied Cameron because you are the only son of the Xander family, so we wanted to teach you a lesson. If you promise to never bully Cameron again, we’ll still consider you our son. If you do not promise, we’ll cut you off, and you’ll be dead to us.” Just as my heart sank and I fell into despair, a sympathetic voice from the system sounded in my mind. [Jude, do you wish to abandon this mission and leave this world?]

I gave Julian Kane everything: my family’s connections, my clients, my lawyers, my money, and even the Manhattan office his company called home. For five years, I let him build his empire on my back. Then his new intern accused me of skipping work and stealing company money. She wanted my title, my clients, my office, and the black card that opened the most powerful doors in New York. Julian knew the truth, but he still let the whole company shame me. So I handed over the card. They thought I was finished, but they forgot one thing: the card was mine, the building was mine, the clients were mine, and the name they mocked was Moretti. If they wanted to call me a thief, I would show them exactly what they had stolen. If they wanted to drag me into the spotlight, I would let the whole city watch them fall. I didn’t come back to beg. I came back to collect.

She tried to win him back. The kidnappers did not get the memo. Nora Hale’s life used to read like one of her bestselling novels - perfect husband, dream career, book tours- she was living her best life. Now, after two years of crippling writer's block, looming deadlines, and a husband who has packed his bags, her story has hit a brutal plot twist, and Nora is desperate to have the happy ending she’s used to writing. Naturally, she does what any logical, emotionally sane woman would do – plan a dangerous trip to Paris to rekindle the spark with her husband (and maybe spark a new book while she’s at it). The plan? Simple. The outcome? Absolute chaos. Between real criminals, fake ransom notes, French police, and one soon-to-be ex-husband, Nora’s romantic rescue mission quickly turns into an international disaster. But somewhere between the mayhem and macarons, Nora and her husband rediscover something they’d lost – the spark that started it all. Now if only she can keep him from finding out the truth behind the worst (and best) idea she’s ever had before the credits roll. Because in love and fiction… sometimes the best stories are total disasters. Billionaire romance story.

SYNOPSIS He has Alexithymia; the inability to identify and describe ones emotions. He doesn’t understand what it means to feel happy or sad or excited neither does he know how to express them. Smiles and laughs are like riddles to him cause all he can understand is pain… nothing else but pain. He is Holden Smith, CEO of the biggest and most successful game company in China. She has Amnesia and Kleptomania ( the recurrent failure to resist the urge to steal). She steals whatever she comes across; gold, silver, wood, paper and even a needle. She also have a big horrible scar on her face which she does everything possible to keep from the world. Her name is Raven Scott. These two crosses part with each other, having one thing in common; they are BROKEN and DEPRESSED. Unknown to them, their lives got ruined due to one same horrible mistake done eighteen years ago… It’s a scar in their hearts enough to kill them…it’s their lethal guilt. But will they be able to heal?...

In a world where werewolves ruled, Magnus Grayson, a notorious womanizer, found himself mated to Lara Jade, a Beta known for her playgirl ways. Their clash of personalities and undeniable attraction led to a reluctant marriage under the Wolf Code. Despite this, they resisted fully embracing their bond. Just as their feelings began to grow, painful secrets from their pasts came to light. Discovering a deep-seated hatred rooted in their intertwined histories, they learned that Magnus was the son of Lara's father's mistress, and Lara was the daughter of Magnus' mother's lover. Faced with this truth, they chose to sever their mate bond, risking their lives as per werewolf tradition, where one must perish.