Good Suspense

On Valentine's Day, I suggest going to a restaurant to celebrate, but my boyfriend, Michael Nelson, refuses. He says impatiently, "Why should we celebrate some lousy holiday? I don't want to waste good money on it." He turns around and happily chats away on his phone, completely absorbed in the conversation. Then, I hear the system's notification going off in my head. "Congratulations. You have received 2,860 dollars." This means that Michael just transferred 1,430 dollars to his side chick. He doesn't know it yet, but I have a system. It's called the Infidelity Cashback System. Every time he spends money on his other woman, I get double the cashback in my bank account.

Mom always said my entire life ran on luck. When I ranked first in my class, she said, "You just guessed really well." When I won a gold medal, she said, "The judges must've been blind." When I got into Westridge University, she told everyone, "This kid has no real ability, just good luck!" So on my first day of college, she tossed me a book of scratch cards. "Since your luck's so good anyway, might as well let it handle your living expenses too. "You get one book per semester. However much you scratch off is all you get. "And just so you can't come crying to me about being broke, I'm blocking you now. I'll add you back next semester." With that, she ignored every one of my desperate pleas and blocked me on every single platform. I wanted to cry but could not even manage tears. All I could do was scratch two cards every day. On good days, I would win 20 to 50 dollars. Most days, I won absolutely nothing. I survived by sneaking expired cookies out of my roommates' trash. By the last week of the semester, I had developed severe anemia. As I used every ounce of strength to scratch the final card, I laughed. Mom was right. My luck really was incredible.

Divorce Discord is a tangled love affair between Charles Rogers and Vivian Harry. The pair were undergraduates of Yankee University. Their enjoinment into marital bloc ignited the fire of regrettable irregularities and frustrations accompanying a wrong choice of mate, abscond, impetuosity and excommunication, fray and frazzle, insubordination, elopement, divorce discord, re-betrothal and suicide…

Ellana Barquez is a known introvert. She was detached from everyone including her own sister, Marose Barquez. She fancied anything that has something to do with mysteries and that is the reason why she is being called 'impossible'. But something phenomenal happened wherein she uses her knowledge to fight for their lives. A zombie apocalypse tumbled into their place that pushes her to be someone she doesn't even imagined to become. Will she be able to take and accept the calling, be a sister, for once, to her younger sibling and help themselves survive? Or end up being vulnerable and defeated? How will that unfortunate occurence help them changed? Will the reconciliation between Ellana and Marose will finally be served?

Sgt.Adam Joseph Levonn, lead commander of elite military force in the United States watched the tiny islands of the Philippines with wonder. He was on a mission together with his team SEAL SIX . As the plane landed, a group of volunteers welcomed them, including a strange good looking classy woman wearing a black jacket , Kristine. The troops then travelled to their destination together with the volunteers . None of them noticed that they have entered an unseen barrier that leads them to the other world . What was on the other side of the world ? How far love can offer a sacrifice? What if everything was just a set up ? A novel of depth sensitivity . Embedded with mystery , action and sensational romance.

"The Rossi family doesn't need a Don. We just need a Donna." As the only heiress of the Rossi family, this was the law that I had set when I received the Browning pistol—a pistol that resembles the ultimate authority in the Rossi family—from my Papa when he was on his deathbed. But three years ago, the police relentlessly investigated the money laundering business that my fiance, Lorenzo Moretti, was in charge of. If that business were to get exposed, the Rossi family's hundred-year-old legacy would be ruined. In order to protect my family's legacy and to allow Lorenzo to continue legalizing my family's businesses, I decided to become the scapegoat for all the crimes. On the rainy night of my arrest, I personally handed the pistol over to Lorenzo. "Protect my family for me before my return." This gave Lorenzo legitimate authority to run my family. He used the pistol to purge my subordinates and take over the family business. He even broke my law by announcing to the public that he'd become the next Don soon. An invitation with golden borders is soon leaked from the family's inner circle. Lorenzo's and another woman's names are printed on the cover. During a visit, my private lawyer says mockingly, "If you don't get out of prison now, the Rossi family might take on another man's last name for real." I just sneer in response. After that, I get bailed out of jail in advance and return home to celebrate Lorenzo's "funeral". But no matter how many times I scan my iris at the biometric scanner in the estate, the result always comes out wrong. A young woman, who's toying with the pistol, opens the door at that moment. The contempt and disdain in her eyes are plain to see. "Where the hell did a crazy woman like you come from? You came to the wrong place. This is my private turf, you know."

After returning home from a flight, I realize that my bottle of hair conditioner has run out in the bathroom. The thing is, my husband, Carlos Zappa, doesn't use hair conditioner at all. Seeing Carlos through the frosted glass, I decide to probe him for answers. "Did any guests stay over lately? Or have you started doing hair care?" Carlos flips through the documents, which are stamped with the Zappa family crest, impatiently at my questions. "Maybe a maid accidentally toppled the bottle over when she was cleaning the bathroom. Also, why are you annoying me with such minuscule matters?" When I put on the bathrobe, I feel a ticklish sensation coming from the collar. As soon as I look down, I notice a strand of dried yellow hair being entangled in the collar. The moment the steam dissipates, I see two pairs of intertwining handprints on the bathroom's glass door. I never thought that my home would grow this popular during my one-week trip away from home. I've been married to Carlos for three years, and yet this is my first time finding out that he's actually this wild in bed. So, I secretly text my father, the Don of the Carozza family. "Dad, Carlos has cheated on me. Does the bet we made three years ago still count?"

Jack River receives a staticky late-night phone call from his sister. As he drives the long distance to the house his sister rents with three fellow college students, his Aunt calls to inform him of his sister’s disappearance three days ago. The events that follow begin to make him doubt his own sanity. Who can he trust when he can no longer even trust his own mental faculties?

A virus broke out just two weeks ago, a virus which turned the whole people living in the state into nothing but bloodsucking monsters. A virus which thrown a whole country into choas as those who are not infected had to find somewhere to hide. Among these lucky individuals were seven young able and fitted youths who after seeing the condition of the people and knowing where to get the cure embark on a very dangerous and deadly mission to a particular state where the dangerous mutants resides. The laboratory which they were to get the cure from was said to be protected by the first set of mutants who were said to be the most dangerous among the infected mutants. Will they succeed? Will they get the cure? Will they come out alive?

I was reborn before I signed up for a scientific expedition tour to the South Pole. My boyfriend’s adopted younger sister used a system to forcefully exchange my physical senses with hers. She deliberately went out to do something good on a day with a temperature of 107.6 °F, like delivering water to the outdoor workers. On the other hand, I got so hot in a 60.8 °F air-conditioned room that I fainted from heat stroke. I begged Wendy Little to stop, but she feigned innocence. “You must make a good excuse if you want to lie like that!” Max Little sounded disdainful. “How selfish! You’re quite lucky to enjoy yourself in air-conditioned rooms every day. You can’t tolerate Wendy doing something kind.” Wendy took her time and basked in the sun for a month outside. People took photos of her and put them on the internet. Countless netizens were moved by her. But I died from heat stroke in an air-conditioned room. Nobody even found my corpse. If that was how it was, I wanted her to enjoy the coolness of -184 °F in the South Pole.