Author Smith
2 Published Stories
Author Smith 's Books and Stories
Nathan And Ethan:Destined To Be
LGBT+ Ethan grew up under the shadow of his father's indifference, constantly striving to prove himself in a family that prized success above all else. But his attempts were always overlooked in favor of his younger sister, who effortlessly won their father's attention with her academic accolades. Ethan's belief that achievement equals affection becomes his guiding force, pushing him to succeed and finally gain the love he's always longed for. Yet, when his father learns that Ethan is gay, everything changes. Unable to accept his son's identity, he sends Ethan to a strict Catholic university, hoping it will "cure" him.
Across town, Nathan has spent his life battling different challenges. Raised by an alcoholic father after his mother left, Nathan was forced to grow up too soon, taking on adult responsibilities just to survive. When his father's debts pile up and threaten their future, Nathan uses his college savings to bail him out, sacrificing his dreams in the process. But fate steps in, and Nathan receives a scholarship to the same Catholic university where Ethan is now studying.
A twist of destiny brings them together as roommates. Despite their contrasting backgrounds and the weight of their pasts, an unexpected bond begins to grow. What started as mere circumstance soon transforms into something more profound. As they navigate friendship, love, and the expectations of those around them, they'll discover the courage to be true to themselves-and to each other. Mythic Love: A Tale Of Love and Passion
Fantasy
In the mystical realm of Eldrador, King Ryker rules with wisdom and power, his mastery of magic and sorcery cementing his kingdom's prosperity. However, a cryptic prophecy from a revered seer foretells the arrival of a soldier wielding a legendary sword, destined to destroy the kingdom. Enraged, the king banishes the seer, dismissing the warning as treason.
Years pass, and King Ryker's son, Prince Arin, grows into a charming and adventurous young man. Longing to explore the world beyond the palace walls, Arin escapes to discover the kingdom's hidden wonders. During one such excursion, he encounters a beautiful and fiery pauper, Lyra. Their initial animosity blossoms into a forbidden love, as Arin keeps his royal identity hidden.
As their relationship deepens, the couple faces daunting challenges: social class divisions, royal obligations, and the weight of Arin's destiny. Just as they navigate these obstacles, rumors spread of a mysterious soldier marching toward Eldrador, matching the prophecy's description.
King Ryker's unease grows, and he becomes obsessed with uncovering the truth behind the prophecy. Will the soldier bring destruction, or is the prophecy a mere fabrication? As tensions escalate, Arin and Lyra find themselves entangled in the fate of the kingdom. You might like
The Billionaire's Secret Twin Wife
Herculie Dipietro My husband, Marcus, was already late for our second anniversary dinner when he walked in, reeking of another woman's perfume. He introduced her as his "indispensable" new assistant, Chloe Sanders. My heart, already terminally ill, tightened further – a painful reminder of the lie I was living.
He never truly saw me; he saw my dead twin sister, Eleanor, the woman he still claimed to love, the one he believed I, Tori, had killed. I, Eleanor, was forced to impersonate her after a tragic accident, trapped in a marriage where Marcus constantly abused me, seeking vengeance for a death I didn't cause.
Then, he overheard a conversation that revealed the shocking truth: I wasn't Tori at all. I was Eleanor, his actual wife. I hoped this truth might change everything, but barely ten days later, a text from Chloe solidified his betrayal – a photo of her pregnant stomach, her message simple: "I'm pregnant with Marcus's child. He's known your real identity for weeks and told me everything."
His brief, feigned kindness dissolved, confirming his calculated deceit. He continued his blatant affair, shamelessly using my terminal heart condition for a monumental P.R. stunt, playing the heartbreakingly devoted husband while his mistress smirked triumphantly. All the years of abuse, the forced identity, my dying heart – it had been for nothing.
A cold, simmering rage ignited within me. He believed he was still in control, but I wouldn't die as his victim. I decided to play his game, but by my rules, turning his public display of affection into the perfect stage for ultimate retribution. I would use his own deceit to expose his entire empire, allied with a man connected to him in ways he never imagined. Fake Amnesia, Real Betrayal
Johan Gorski The call came at 7:05 PM on our tenth wedding anniversary.
My husband, David, was in an accident.
At the hospital, he was awake, but a young woman, his assistant Chloe, was holding his hand, acting like his wife.
When I walked in, he looked at me, a blank stranger' s stare, then asked, "Who are you?"
He laughed when I said I was his wife, then demanded security remove me, while Chloe, smiling, pretended to cry.
It wasn't just memory loss; it was a cruel, targeted erasure.
I tried proof, the marriage certificate, but he pushed it away as "just a piece of paper."
Then Chloe waltzed in with his favorite soup, and he defended her when I confronted her.
"She' s the only one who' s been here for me!" he screamed.
He snarled that I was "exhausted, haggard," compared to Chloe, who was "kind and gentle."
My wedding ring, a symbol of our forever, flew from my hand as he slapped it away, clinking under the bed.
"Don' t come back," he said, turning his back on me to comfort Chloe.
Later, I learned why: he had been having an affair with Chloe, his mother's 65th birthday ruined by his absence and her answering his phone.
My world shattered when Mark Johnson, David's estranged best friend, told me what David said: "The fake amnesia was a stroke of genius, right? A clean break."
My husband had faked a brain injury to throw me away.
A car hit me, sending me to the hospital, and I knew what I had to do.
When Mark came in, I looked at him, my face blank, then asked, "Are you… my husband?" Mummery
Gilbert Cannan This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1919 Excerpt: ...loss of humanity. Henceforth she must deal with realities, leaving him to his painted mummery.... She could understand his frenzy, his fury, his despair. \"That will do, Charles,\" she said very quietly. \"I will see what can be done about Mr. Clott, and whatever happens I will see that you are not harmed.... If you like, you can dine with Verschoyle and me tonight. You can come home with me now, while I dress. I am to meet him at the Carlton and then we are going on to the Opera.\" \"Does Verschoyle know?\" \"He knows that you are you and that I am I---that is all he cares about.... He is a good man. If people must have too much money, he is the right man to have it. He would never let a man down for want of money--if the man was worth it.\" \"Ah!\" said Charles, reassured. This was like the old Clara speaking, but with more assurance, a more certain knowledge and less bewildering intuition and guess-work. A Few weeks later, with Verschoyle and a poor relation of his, a Miss Vibart Withers, for chaperone, Clara left London in a 60 h.p. Fiat, which voraciously ate up the Bath Road at the rate of a mile every minute and a half.... It was good to be out of the thick heat of London, invaded by foreigners and provincials and turned into a city of pleasure and summer-frocks, so that its normal life was submerged, its character hidden. The town became as lazy and drowsy a spectacle as a field of poppies over which danced gay and brilliant butterflies. Very sweet was it then to turn away from it, and all that was happening in it, to the sweet air and to fly along between green fields and orchards, through little towns, at intervals to cross the Thames and to feel that with each crossing London lay so much farther away. Henle...