Witching Hour Origin Novels & Stories

After five years of marriage, my wife’s childhood friend posted a photo of a property deed in his social media circle with the caption, [Thank you, Miss CEO, for transferring the house to me.] I was stunned when I saw the address on the deed—it was my home. Confused, I left a comment. [?] Almost immediately, my wife, Alice, called and scolded me. "He’s a single dad, so pitiful! I only transferred the house to his name to make it easier for his daughter to attend school. It doesn’t affect us living there. How can you be so heartless and lack even a shred of compassion?" In the background, I could hear her childhood friend complaining bitterly. Half an hour later, he posted on social media again and tagged me. This time, he showed off a $150,000 sports car with the caption, [Paid in full! As the saying goes, where a woman spends her money is where her heart lies.] I knew it was my wife who bought him the car to make up for upsetting him. But this time, I’ve made up my mind—I’m filing for divorce.

My lawyer wife’s assistant got into trouble again. This time, he had been driving at nearly sixty miles an hour in a residential neighborhood and crashed into my seventy-year-old mother, sending her flying. My mother had gotten paralyzed from the accident after suffering fractures in dozens of places. She would be bedbound for the rest of her life. My wife represented her assistant in court again. She claimed that my mother had intentionally gotten in the path of her assistant’s vehicle to get compensation money, and that was how the crash happened. She pushed all the responsibility back on my mother. In the end, her assistant was pronounced innocent and released, while I had to pay him for damages. “Tyson, he’s just a twenty-five-year-old kid. He knows nothing. If he got sent to jail, his life would be ruined. Don’t pursue this with him.” After the lawsuit, the assistant rushed to make an online post. [My lawyer’s so gorgeous. She’s an angel of justice!] Florence liked the post right in front of me. Meanwhile, I stayed so calm it was scary. “Let’s get a divorce, Florence.”

Six years have passed since Dr. Hansen, Joseph, Karen and David escaped from the United States and took refuge in Argentina, where they lead a quiet life away from the memory of the violent events in New York. Peace of mind that will no longer be such, since in that city, an important businessman contacts the now private detectives Mark Forney and Doris Ventura with a very specific request: to locate Dr. Hansen and Joseph, under the pretext of protecting the latter and have reliable information that a recognized terrorist group will carry out a violent attack if the clone child of Jesus is not delivered to them to sacrifice him live before the world. Suspicious, they will accept the order without knowing that after that request a dangerous conspiracy is brewing that will put them in the middle of a conflict on a global scale, with the governments of the United States, Israel, Iran, the Vatican (with the first black Pope in its history) and others, and a very powerful secret brotherhood fighting to have the clone boy under their power. Conspiracy that little by little will reveal the dark interests of world domination by those involved in the conflict. Second book of the trilogy, where the author skillfully handles the birth and evolution of the conspiracy around the clone boy, now eleven years old, who is more aware of his origin and of his role in the world, but without being able to avoid that by his cause occurs terrible acts of violence against humanity, as part of that conspiracy.

The housekeeper, who was always punctual, was late today. "Madam, I'm so sorry… dinner isn't ready yet. Please don't be upset with me…" "But this time, there was no helping it. I waited downstairs for over half an hour, and no one swiped in. I even called Mr. Gregory, but he didn't answer. That's why I'm late." My hand froze mid-motion as I was changing shoes, and a frown creased my brow. "Lydia," I said, "didn't I have Richard give you the access card?" Lydia Pendel froze, her face blank. "Access card? Mr. Gregory never gave me one." "Never?" I repeated. "Yes," she said, wiping the sweat from her forehead, her voice careful. "All this past month, I've been sneaking in whenever another resident opened the door, or calling Mr. Gregory so he could let me in. "Today, Mr. Gregory didn't answer at all, so I was stuck downstairs, feeling helpless…" That was strange. Because over the past month, the electronic lock on the front gate had clearly recorded swipes from that backup card.

Everything was going well in the life of 27-year-old Lillian Porter. She lived in a nice rented house located less than an hour from the major architectural firm where she works. The company is directed by Adam Winters. Her boss was five years older than her and Lillian worked as her executive secretary, she was like his right hand, even though she hated him. All her "hatred" for him followed her from the first day working to him. Adam was extremely attractive and seemed to know perfectly well the power of his charm, since the first day he has been rude and arrogant with everyone around him, knowing that even so, he would draw desirous sighs from both of them. But that still wasn't the focus of all Lillian's rancor, the problem is that she hated the fact that not even she was immune to the charms of her powerful boss. First, she thought she would never have sex with him for the simple fact that he was her boss, nether fall in love, but after what she thought would never happen, happened. She feared she was wanting the terrible CEO Adam Winters in her bed again. How would things be at the company after a crazy night of love between them? Can love. emerge from hate?

My pack was slaughtered. But my fated mate Ethan turned his back on me, choosing another she-wolf, Lyra. In my darkest hour, his brother, Alpha Caden, claimed me. He promised me safety. Vengeance. A home. For three years, I was his Luna. I thought I was safe. Then I learned the truth. "You've hidden the evidence for three years, Alpha. You know Lyra was behind the Dawn Moon slaughter. What happens when your Luna finds out?" Caden’s reply shattered my world. "I have to protect Lyra. Even though she chose my brother, I need her to be happy. As for Selena, making her my Luna is compensation enough." My legs went weak. I almost collapsed, sobbing. The monster who killed my family was right beside me all along. And the mate I loved so deeply? Our bond was a lie, built only to shield her. So I performed the Farewell Ritual, a ceremony to erase myself from the world. Only when he was about to lose me forever did Caden finally see the truth. Shattered by regret, he hunted down the real killer, begging for a forgiveness he would never earn.

My mother-in-law has gotten kidnapped, and yet my husband, Josiah Broadway, decides to celebrate the success of his childhood sweetheart, Vivian Spencer's performance with her. The kidnapper has requested a ten-million-dollar ransom. If he doesn't receive the money in his bank account in an hour, he'll kill the hostage immediately. But my calls to Josiah's phone never go through. When there's only one minute left on the timer, Josiah calls me back calmly. "Since that hag is already that old, she might as well die. I'm not wasting my money on her." Just like that, my mother-in-law is thrown into the sea by the furious kidnapper. The search-and-rescue team has to resort to using long hooks in order to fish her corpse out of the sea. As soon as the body is delivered to the crematorium, Josiah sends me a voice message excitedly. "Have your mom's corpse sent to the studio! Vivian's performance needs a corpse anyway! Using a real corpse will make the whole performance seem more realistic!" I'm pissed off, to say the least. So, that bastard thinks that my mom is the one who died, huh? After that, I have my mother-in-law's corpse, which is completely disfigured from all the fishing and hooking, sent to the studio without any hesitation.

My name is Ivy Lawson. At 3:00 am, I get a call from Christina McSpire, a parent of one of my students. "Hello, Ms. Lawson, I noticed Zoe only spent five dollars on her meal yesterday. Did she not eat any meat?" she asks. Pushing through my exhaustion, I reply, "Don't worry, Mrs. Street. I'll check on it tomorrow." Another half hour goes by, and she calls again. "It's supposed to rain tomorrow. Can you remind Zoe to bring an umbrella?" I can hardly keep my eyes open. "Got it," I reply absentmindedly. A few minutes later, my phone rings once more. "Please make sure Zoe brushes her teeth for three minutes. It's also important that she scrubs each side of her face at least three times." Suppressing my frustration, I calmly respond, "Zoe is in her senior year of high school. I'm sure she's capable of taking care of herself." I expect that to be the end of it, but when I wake up, my silenced phone shows over a hundred missed calls.

Wren Calloway agreed to wear her estranged half-sister's name for one night — a single gala, one borrowed dress, a fiancée's smile for a man she'd never met, so Isabella could vanish and handle a danger she wouldn't explain. Forty-eight hours, Isabella promised. Then she never came back. Now Wren is trapped in a life that was never meant to be hers, opposite Sebastian Vale, a man who noticed the lie within the first hour and chose, for reasons of his own, to let it continue. He needs a fiancée steady enough to survive his company's transition. She needs time to find her sister before whoever frightened Isabella into running finds Wren first. But the deeper Wren digs into the Vale family archives, the more she uncovers a history that was never supposed to surface — a stolen patent, a ruined partner, an empire built on a name that wasn't Vale's to claim alone. Her own name, it turns out, was never a coincidence. Between a borrowed engagement and a buried fraud, Wren must decide whether the man falling for a woman who doesn't exist deserves to know who she really is before someone else tells him first.

Richard Lorde’s childhood friend had just become a widow. On our fifth wedding anniversary, he brought his childhood friend and her daughter into a karaoke box and removed my ring right before everyone. “Lily needs a proper status right now. It’s no longer right for you to wear that ring. “Resign from your job tomorrow and take care of Lily and her daughter.” Everyone in the room fell silent as they waited for me to blow my top off. But I said nothing. I calmly brought out the divorce agreement I had already signed, put it on the table, and left. My best friend stood up to advise me against it, but Richard just swung the wine glass and snorted. “Let her. She’ll come begging for my forgiveness before tomorrow.” When I slammed the door shut, I heard laughter from the room. What they did not know was that half an hour ago, I had received a message telling me that my visa application had been approved. The person in charge of picking me up had been waiting at my house ten minutes ago. This time, I was not turning back.