Harman Lowry
10 Published Stories
Harman Lowry's Books and Stories
From Neglected Wife To Empowered Heiress
Romance For six years, my husband, Corbin, used his severe mysophobia as an excuse for why he could never touch me. I believed him, until I saw him tenderly caress another woman-his ex-girlfriend, Annis. When I was later left bleeding on the pavement after saving her life, he walked right past me to comfort her, his eyes filled with a fury I'd never seen.
He didn't ask if I was okay. He didn't call for help. He just looked at me with disgust and said, "My priority is you," to her, before walking away.
The final blow came when Annis smugly revealed the truth: Corbin only married me for my family's connections. He called our marriage a "contract."
I wasn't his wife; I was a business deal.
So, while he was distracted by Annis's "anxiety" in my hospital room, I had him sign a document he thought was a template for a friend. It was our divorce agreement. He's about to find out he's not just single-he's also broke. Because I just gave away every last cent of the fortune he gave me to win me back. Her Only Sin: Loving Him
Romance For two years, I lived in hiding, a ghost. But they found me. When Liam Stone' s team locked down the hospital, I lay there, a skeleton. What was coming had finally arrived.
He stood in the doorway, my husband, his handsome face a mask of indifference. "You deserve this," he said, his eyes devoid of pity. The man I loved still hated me.
He wouldn' t let me die. He spent a fortune keeping me alive, just to torment me. Every bone in my body felt corroded by poison. It was a living hell. Even my own mother, driven to despair by Liam' s relentless persecution of our family, plunged a knife into me.
"Why are you still alive? It would be better for everyone if you were dead." Her words echoed louder than the pain. My family, the people I had tried so hard to protect, betrayed me. My only sin, I murmured to myself, fading, was falling in love with him.
Liam' s words, a brutal reminder: "Only by living a life worse than death can you comfort my sister' s spirit in heaven." But Ella' s death had nothing to do with me. I never envied her relationship with him; I cherished it.
My love for him burned with a purity he never saw. Now, it must end. On the rooftop, overlooking the city, I prepared to leap. Soon, I would be free. The Truth She Couldn't Tell
Romance Eight years ago, I gave up everything to save the man I loved.
I was an award-winning investigative journalist, Ava Miller, and I put Marcus Thorne in prison - a choice that broke us both.
I promised myself he' d be safe, even if it meant he' d hate me forever.
But the truth was far more complex than a simple betrayal.
A cruel family secret, a hidden illness eating away at my mind, turned me into a stranger even to myself.
Now he' s back, richer and colder, engaged to my former best friend Chloe, and determined to make me pay for a crime I didn' t commit.
He thinks I' m a liar, a gold-digger, broken and pathetic.
He doesn' t know the real reason I did what I did, or that my memory is failing, turning my past into a terrifying blank.
With nowhere left to turn, and my mind slipping away, there' s only one way I can tell him the truth, one last desperate message before I lose it all… or myself.
I have to make him understand, even if it' s the last thing I ever do. Too Late, Mr. Scott: She's Someone Else's Wife
Romance Five years Maria waited, raising their daughter Lily alone, believing their arranged engagement was still her future.
Then Ryan returned, not with an embrace, but a summons to a chic café where he introduced his true love, Maria's own sister Gabrielle, and their daughter, Chloe.
He offered Maria a humiliating "deal": marry him on paper for family business, but live as a "family manager" while he played husband to Gabrielle.
The ultimate betrayal shattered Maria's world when, at a party, Ryan witnessed Lily being pushed, and without a second thought, slapped their own daughter across the face.
Faced with a monstrous stranger, and seeing Lily nearly drown while Ryan prioritized Chloe, Maria knows she can't just walk away; she has to destroy him. Burn It All: A Woman Reclaimed
Modern My husband, Ethan, always told me my grandmother' s priceless Martin guitar was "just an old guitar." My heart, a delicate melody, had spent years devoted to his dreams, sacrificing my own.
Then, at his startup' s glitzy SXSW party, he gave it away. As a "bonus" to his new intern, Sabrina, a girl barely out of her teens. I watched, helpless, as she fumbled, faked a fall, and the antique wood shattered on the marble floor.
Ethan didn't even glance at the rubble. He cradled Sabrina, his eyes cold daggers aimed at me, his "supportive wife." He then called my cherished legacy "just an old guitar," spitting venom that my Bluegrass grandmother was "just some hick musician." My world imploded.
That night, the betrayal deepened. His phone, answered by Sabrina' s smug purr, confirmed the affair. "You really need to learn to let things go, Jocelyn," she taunted. The next morning, a frantic call: Sabrina had a severe "anxiety attack" and needed blood from my rare O-negative type. He abducted me, forcing a transfusion, making me miss a life-changing music meeting.
Drained and helpless, I discovered a year-long scheme: my designs, my songs, my entire future-all stolen, registered in Sabrina' s name, and now she was calling herself a songwriter. Every piece of my identity, my dreams, twisted into a cruel mockery.
How could the man I loved, the partner I built a life with, systematically dismantle my existence with such cold precision? I was erased. But in that sterile clinic room, bleeding from a forced donation for his mistress, a new, chilling resolve began to crystallize within me. They thought they had left me with nothing. They had only given me everything I needed to burn their world to the ground. A Billionaire's Second Chance
Modern My last breath was a gasp of pure, stupid shock.
The sterile white room, the doctor' s flat voice delivering my death sentence-a massive coronary, brought on by stress.
But it wasn't stress. It was betrayal.
My wife, Jennifer, stood over me, her sweet mask replaced by a cold, triumphant sneer.
"The baby?" she hissed, her voice dripping venom. "It' s Ryan' s. It was always going to be Ryan' s."
Ryan. Her childhood sweetheart. The man whose limp I pitied, whose medical bills I paid, fueling their luxurious life.
She laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "I came to your room right after I finished with Ryan. We planned it all, you pathetic fool. I never loved you. I despised you. Thanks for the easy life."
The pain in my chest wasn't just my failing heart. It was the crushing weight of my own idiocy. My billions bought me the most elaborate, painful death imaginable. My vision tunneled, Jennifer' s hateful face the last thing I saw.
Then, a roar filled my ears. The Texas sun on my neck. I was on one knee, a diamond bracelet glittering in my hand, facing Jennifer Smith.
This was it. The exact moment I sealed my doom. The grand, public proposal that had cost me everything.
But this time, I knew. I knew about Ryan' s fake limp. I knew they' d slept together less than an hour ago. I knew this was all a carefully staged play.
This time, things would be different. This time, I' d rewrite my ending. Too Late, Mr. Morris: She's Mrs. Blakely Now
Romance Five years ago, I stood alone in my simple white dress, abandoned at the altar by my high school sweetheart, Ryan Morris, for another woman. Heartbroken, I fled to Paris, found my passion, and built a new life as Jocelyn Blakely, wife to the powerful heir, Andrew.
Now, three months pregnant, I returned to New Orleans, only to be met at the airport by none other than Ryan, who had become a petty valet. He and his new girlfriend, Sabrina, reveled in mocking me, physically shoving me to the ground, causing a sharp pain in my abdomen.
The humiliation deepened at Andrew's grandfather's gala. Ryan and Sabrina publicly shamed me, shattered a precious sugar sculpture I crafted, and stole the locket Andrew gave me. Ryan even slapped me, sneering, believing I wanted him back, leaving me crumpled, violated, and utterly powerless.
How could he, the man who once claimed to love me, stoop to such a depraved act? Why did he believe I was still that desperate girl, when everything about me screamed independence and strength?
Just as I believed I might lose everything, the ballroom doors burst open, and Andrew Blakely strode in, his eyes blazing. He saw the wound on my cheek, the shattered gift, and his once-quiet fury was now a thunderous storm, ready to unleash retribution far beyond anything Ryan could ever imagine. No More Chances, Mr. Thorne
Fantasy My world shattered when Julian Thorne repaid my ultimate sacrifice with cold betrayal.
For nine agonizing times, I, Elara, a Life Weaver, poured my very essence into saving him from death, only for him to credit his scheming lover, Cassie Dane.
After my ninth, desperate act of healing, he heartlessly ripped my family's sacred amulet from my neck, leaving me to die, forgotten.
But fate, it seemed, had other plans, and I found myself gasping alive in my remote Ozarks cabin for a second chance.
When Julian’s deadly illness re-emerged, and his desperate family came knocking, I calmly delivered my firm "No," refusing to become his victim a tenth time.
Yet, Julian, now deeply ensnared by Cassie, wouldn't accept my refusal, escalating his malice beyond measure.
He married Cassie, then, with savage glee, knowingly drove his ATV through my vital medicinal garden, shattering my rare healing plants.
His malevolence reached its horrific peak when he commanded his guards to systematically destroy my hands, the very conduits of my healing power, then pinned my hand to the porch with a hunting knife while Cassie livestreamed my screaming agony.
How could the man I sacrificially loved become such a monster, so blind to truth, so twisted by a toxic parasite he called love, that he would try to utterly obliterate my very essence?
Just as he raised the knife again to disfigure my face, the very earth rebelled.
An ancient chandelier, a symbol of his family’s past, crashed from the ceiling directly onto him, a swift and brutal karmic judgment that finally, truly, set me free. Her Heart, His Life: A Final Exchange
Modern My artificial heart was failing, a ticking bomb in my chest, bought for the woman on the screen, my brilliant ex-fiancée, now a CEO accepting awards.
She called, her voice cold, asking if I regretted abandoning her for money, an accusation that felt like a knife twisting in my chest, a wound from a lie I’d told to save her life.
Despite my desperate pleas for $50,000 to survive, she and her ruthless boyfriend, Liam, twisted my struggles into elaborate scams, publicly shaming me, and branding me a despicable liar.
How do you tell the woman you gave your heart to that the machine keeping you alive is dying, when she believes you wickedly abandoned her, a lie you nurtured for her sake?
Just as I had made peace with buying my own grave, a long-buried secret about my anonymous heart donation began to surface, forcing a final, desperate confrontation that would either expose the truth or bury it forever. The Princess In Male Attire
History Sure! Here’s the translation:
---
I am the crown prince of Hadrait, but I am a woman.
On the day I was born, my mother turned me over and over, yet she still couldn't find that thing.
Finally, she glared at me and gritted her teeth, saying:
"Whether it's a boy or a girl, it must be a boy!"
So I bound my chest and dressed as a man, pretending to be the crown prince for seventeen years.
But no matter how wise I was, or how skilled in both literature and martial arts, when my identity was discovered, I could not escape death.
Watching the once loyal old ministers filled with righteous indignation, I drew my sword.
"Who says a woman can't be an emperor?"
Later, my classmates Landen and Phil, who taught me martial arts, both vied for my favor.
I put an arm around each of their shoulders:
"What are you fighting over? In the future, there will be more newcomers in the palace; you two need to unite!"
---
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He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him
SHANA GRAY The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her.
Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead.
A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living.
Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body.
Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back. After Divorce: My Arrogant Ex Regrets Calling Me Trash
Sea Jet Aurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his "eligible bachelor" status to the world.
In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a "trailer park girl" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his "grief."
But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius.
Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive "free" could be. His Twisted Game, My Dangerous Love
Elroy Notman Vesper's marriage to Julian Sterling was a gilded cage. One morning, she woke naked beside Damon Sterling, Julian's terrifying brother, then found a text: Julian's mistress was pregnant. Her world shattered, but the real nightmare had just begun.
Julian's abuse escalated, gaslighting Vesper, funding his secret life. Damon, a germaphobic billionaire, became her unsettling anchor amidst his chaos.
As "Iris," Vesper exposed Julian's mistress, Serena Sharp, sparking brutal war: poisoned drinks, a broken leg, and the horrifying truth-Julian murdered her parents, trapping Vesper in marriage.
The man she married was a killer. Broken and betrayed, Vesper was caught between monstrous brothers, burning with injustice.
Refusing victimhood, Vesper reclaimed her identity. Fueled by vengeance, she allied with Damon, who vowed to burn his empire for her. Julian faced justice, but matriarch Eleanor's counterattack forced Vesper's choice as a hitman aimed for her. HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)
Viviene Trigger/Content Warning:
This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised.
It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language.
This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire.
*****
"Take off your dress, Meadow."
"Why?"
"Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost."
••••*••••*••••*
Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance.
One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring.
Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel.
He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch.
Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed.
She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge.
But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming.
Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything.
Alaric doesn't share what's his.
Not his company.
Not his wife.
And definitely not his vengeance.
After Betrayal, She Claimed Her Empire
Rabbit Serena Vance, an unloved wife, clutched a custom-made red velvet cake to her chest, enduring the cold rain outside an exclusive Upper East Side club. She hoped this small gesture for her husband, Julian, would bridge the growing chasm between them on their third anniversary. But as she neared the VIP suite, her world shattered.
Julian's cold, detached voice sliced through the laughter, revealing he considered her nothing more than a "signature on a piece of paper" for a trust fund, mocking her changed appearance and respecting only another woman, Elena. The indifference in his tone was a physical blow, a brutal severance, not heartbreak.
She gently placed the forgotten cake on the floor, leaving her wedding ring and a diamond necklace as she prepared to abandon a marriage built on lies. Her old life, once a prison of quiet suffering and constant humiliation, now lay in ruins around her.
Three years of trying to be seen, to be loved, were erased by a few cruel words. Why had she clung to a man who saw her as a clause in a will, a "creature," not a wife? The shame and rage hardened her heart, freezing her tears.
Returning to an empty penthouse, she packed a single battered suitcase, leaving behind every symbol of her failed marriage. With a burner phone, she dialed a number she hadn't touched in a decade, whispering, "Godfather, I'm ready to come home." My Husband's Blindness, My Sweet Revenge
Winnie Suchoff The roasted lamb was cold, a reflection of her marriage. On their third anniversary, Evelyn Vance waited alone in her Manhattan penthouse. Then her phone buzzed: Alexander, her husband, had been spotted leaving the hospital, holding his childhood sweetheart Scarlett Sharp's hand.
Alexander arrived hours later, dismissing Evelyn's quiet complaint with a cold reminder: she was Mrs. Vance, not a victim. Her mother's demands reinforced this role, making Evelyn, a brilliant mind, feel like a ghost. A dangerous indifference replaced betrayal. The debt was paid; now, it was her turn.
She drafted a divorce settlement, waiving everything. As Alexander's tender voice drifted from his study, speaking to Scarlett, Evelyn placed her wedding ring on his pillow, moved to the guest suite, and locked the door. The dull wife was gone; the Oracle was back. After My Husband Cheated, I Married His Greatest Rival
Rabbit The rain assaulted the glass, mirroring the storm inside me. For three years, I, Vivian Sterling, played the perfect wife to Julian Kensington, draining my life. The antique clock ticked, a reminder of time lost.
Then, I found it: a blonde hair on Julian's suit, reeking of Midnight Rose, and a text, ""Candy: You left your cufflinks on my nightstand. I'm already missing you."" My world shattered, revealing his betrayal.
This was just the beginning. I exposed Julian's fraud and his family's violent plots, surviving assassination. But their malice stole my past. Then Alexander Vance, my protector, uncovered a terrifying truth: my birth mother was alive, held captive by a shadowy order. My life was a lie, built to shield me from my dangerous bloodline.
I found strength and love with Alexander, the man who walked into fire for me. Yet, as I prepared to rescue my mother, a new life stirred within me, a secret threatening to complicate the impending war. The 100-Point Divorce Plan
Valeria For three years, I documented the slow death of my marriage in a black journal. It was my 100-point divorce plan: for every time my husband, Blake, chose his first love, Ariana, over me, I deducted points. When the score hit zero, I would leave.
The final points vanished the night he left me bleeding out from a car crash. I was eight weeks pregnant with the child we had prayed for.
In the ER, the nurses frantically called him-the star surgeon of the very hospital I was dying in.
"Dr. Santos, we have a Jane Doe, O-negative, bleeding out. She's pregnant, and we're about to lose them both. We need you to authorize an emergency blood transfer."
His voice came over the speaker, cold and impatient.
"I can't. My priority is Miss Whitfield. Do what you can for the patient, but I can't divert anything right now."
He hung up. He condemned his own child to death to ensure his ex-girlfriend had resources on standby after a minor procedure.