The Stonehearted Knight - Chapter 11: The bearhanded sword (1)

What does it feel like when you have a best-selling detective fiction author for a boyfriend?

Whenever you offend him, he would look at you disdainfully, “A character molded after you could only ever appear in my novel as a deceased victim.”

Whenever you seriously offend him, he would threaten you, “The very next victim who dies in my novel would be named after you.”

Whenever you seriously, seriously offend him, he would add on to the previous threats, “Furthermore, the victim would have died at the hands of an extremely perverse and twisted serial killer, and would have suffered an extremely painful and terrible death.”

But, by a stroke of coincidence, if you happen to be this best-selling author’s editor, he need not resort to the above mentioned tactics. In fact, all he has to do is one, single thing –
-Delay the submission of his draft.

- Description from Novelupdates

After sleeping for 10,000 years, the god-level small Ancestor woke up.She unexpectedly became a fool with the IQ of a three-and-a-half-year-old, heading to the college entrance exam hall, and everyone was waiting for her to make a fool of herself!The small Ancestor smiled slightly: “Very good, great wisdom appears foolish.”Casually, she achieved a “god-like” score that shocked the entire internet.Looking around her side, either there are Bosses of Ma Jia or they are Jinli little cuties, and everyone wants to desperately grind her into the ground with underhanded tricks!The small Ancestor smiled slightly: “Very good, my craftsmanship in creating people is still present. For those who grew crooked, just a little pinch to remake them should suffice.”The Bosses of Ma Jia can't hide their little bodies under their disguises, trembling!After casually remaking the defective products, she turned around and was immediately photographed sharing a bed with the Empire's unspeakable Mr. Bo, instantly shattering the hearts of girls around the world!The small Ancestor pondered slightly: “Something... seems amiss, I was just occasionally craving his body... his Spiritual Energy, you may carry on.”Several days later.A certain charming man personally delivered a marriage certificate to her residence: “I heard you crave Mr. Bo's body...?”#Reverse-plot small Ancestor VS abstinent domineering strongman #

An Omega painted the villain. What would her revenge taste like?For a month, Eve has been seeking for a divorce from her mate who she’d been marrried to—the man she found out she was pregant for. They were after her life and regardless of the fact she was his mate, she couldn’t live. She knew too much about them.Her life was going to come to an end when her very ex-husband, her mate, tricked her into a job—a work that was finally going to cost her life. But all that changes when she sought protection fom a man, a lone alpha—strongest, wealthiest, that even the leader of the pack was below him.But if there was anything else this man was, it was…Frightening in a way she never imagined.Oh, but Malakai Basti was still just a man after all. He had secrets. And his secrets was something Eve never saw coming.Perharps…he wasn’t exactly the protection she needed. Because if anyone found out what he had hidden, Malakai Basti wouldn’t die alone.She had been implicated and bounded to him.

Somebody once told a joke.A man ran in place all his life. He worked a job he didn't love for people he couldn't stand. But at the end of the day, the number in his bank account went up.That man got a second chance at life. He woke up in another world, full of adventures and romances and monsters and gods. And floating above his head he saw the number “1”. So what did he say?“Gosh I better make the number go up.”Not today. Not for this old soul. Reborn as a beast of battle meant to live a short life and die screaming, Garek refuses. He puts the madness of skills and levels behind him and sets out to found a little farmstead. He grows crops. Maybe someday he'll get a pig, and have bacon.It's a shame the world won't let him be. It's a shame that the warmongers and level-grinders hate nothing more than a soul at peace.He put down his sword for a plowshare, but when trouble comes calling, he'll pick it up again.