Lohra
2 Published Stories
Lohra's Books and Stories
Wake a Sleeping Tiger
Romance They were created; they weren’t born.
They were trained; they weren’t raised.
They were genetic creations. Human DNA merged with that of the
animal. The perfect soldier, a disposable creature.
They were created to die, often in the most horrible experiments that the
human mind could ever imagine.
Their lives were a horror story from the moment of their births.
Babes that knew no tender care, no sweet lullabies nor a mother’s love.
They cried until hoarse, until they learned no one was coming unless they
required feeding. And many times, they were allowed to go hungry until
they lay weak and in pain.
Only the most basic of service was given to the babes. Creations that
millions, billions of dollars had gone into in more than a century of
scientific experiments and genetic engineering. “Cubs,” they were called,
never “babes,” but they were living beings that, in terms of the cost of their
creation, were nearly priceless.
Yet in the eyes of those who made them, they were worth no more than
the young women who died giving birth to one after another of the creations
implanted in their wombs.
Human and animal. Determined and far stronger in both spirit and body
than the scientists could have ever envisioned.
Despite the cruelties heaped upon their young bodies, the experiments,
the demented training exercises designed to ensure their success in any
mission they were given, many of them survived. The strength of their
hatred, of their hunger for freedom, refused to allow them to pass quietly
from the world they’d been brought into.
Those creations are free now.
They’re triumphing against all efforts to see them back in the labs from
where they came.
Their intelligence is far greater than any could ever comprehend. Their
strength is more primal than any could ever suspect.
And they’re living on the fragile, desperate hope that the world never
learns the secrets they fight to hide. Intense Pleasure
Romance She had to leave.
Summer Calhoun, the woman the world knew as Summer Bartlett, was
smart enough to know that this phase of her life was over. And though she
wasn’t normally one to run, or to give up, even she couldn’t ignore the fact
that she simply couldn’t do this anymore.
Teeth clenched, battling tears and anger, Summer threw an armload of
dresses into one of the suitcases lying open on the bed. Jamming the
material into the leather bag, uncaring of the wrinkles and years of careful
packing habits, she added more, pushing the frothy, girly material from the
sides of the bag and stuffing them in before zipping the back with short,
jerky movements.
She promised herself she wasn’t going to cry.
Tears didn’t help. They had never helped in the past and they damned
sure wouldn’t help now.
Nothing would help but getting away and running from the pain. Like
serrated blades, the memories of the past few days sliced into her, tore at
her.
God, how naïve she had been.
Four years with the CIA, two with various other agencies, and two more
risking her ass in the private sector should have killed any naiveté she might
have possessed long ago. Hell, she was certain it had done just that.
And how very wrong she’d been. So wrong that for eight years she’d
believed an enemy was a friend, and that insults were just a brasher attitude
than those Summer was used to in the South.
And because she’d let herself be fooled, she’d just spent three of the
most hellish days of her life, two of them attending the funeral and burial of
the very woman whose deceit and black heart had nearly destroyed far too
many people Summer loved.
Easing to the padded bench at the bottom of the bed and propping her
face in her hands as she rested her elbows on her knees, she tried to tell
herself it was the price of ignorance. Of not seeing the true nature of the
woman she’d known most of her life.
The woman Summer had killed.
The funeral had been somber, saddening, and subtly beautiful. Cascades
of flowers, over a hundred friends and family mourning. Tears and
heartrending testimonials for a woman no one had known for a traitor and a
murderer.
Summer had remained tearless through the viewings she’d been forced
to attend. She’d watched, listened, and taken her turn at the gleaming
cherrywood casket where she stared into the pretty, silent features of the
woman she’d been forced to kill. A woman who had hated her, whose
jealousy and greed had destroyed so many over the years.
Summer had remained just as silent during the burial, her head lowered,
so much anger burning inside her that keeping it hidden was next to
impossible. However, she had no other choice. Because she’d killed the
woman they were laying to rest. Because it was her bullet, not an enemy’s,
that had slammed into Gia Barrett’s black heart. And God forbid that the
world should learn about the woman’s crimes, crimes that would shame her
way too influential family.
Questions would be asked if Summer and the man Gia had turned her
weapon on hadn’t been there for the partner the world believed was so kind
and warm of spirit.
Money talked, and the Barrett family had plenty of it. Enough to ensure
that the world would never know the true reason their daughter was dead.
She could have refused to be there, Summer knew. She could have found
a quiet place to nurse the wounds gouged inside her heart if it weren’t for
the man Gia was trying to murder when she was killed, and the man he
called his brother.
Esteban Falcone, known as “Falcon,” was the wild, Spanish bad boy
whose pale blue eyes could burn with laughter and fun or turn icy with
danger or disapproval. The partner whom both Summer and Gia had fought
alongside for two years. Playful, sometimes dramatic, always protective and
loyal. So protective, he’d had Summer dragged from the chapel seconds
before security arrived to find Gia’s body sprawled on the floor and Falcon
holding the weapon that had killed her.
His half brother, John Raeg, had arrived with security. The half brother
was nothing like his sibling. Older by only a few weeks, harder, colder, he’d
handled everything and ensured the truth was buried so deep it never saw
the light of day.
The truth that for eight years Gia had betrayed all of them. Friends and
family alike.
Even more, she’d betrayed the friend Summer had sworn to protect years
ago. A vow that had been broken when she’d failed to keep Gia and those
she was helping from nearly destroying Alyssa’s life. You might like
Pampered By The Ruthless Biker Boss
Anywho After six years away, I returned to my hometown with a single suitcase and a picture of my fiancé tangled up with my stepsister.
I thought it was just a simple, disgusting betrayal, but when I planted a bug in their private suite to get a confession, I heard a truth that froze my blood.
My fiancé, Leo, laughed about how my own father had already signed over my mother's legacy—The Nightingale Ranch—as collateral to his powerful family.
"Once this is all done, Claire will have nothing. And the woman you marry will be me," my stepsister Jenna cheered.
Leo cooed back, calling me a stray dog he'd kick to the curb once he was bored, a worthless woman who couldn't even hold onto her family's land.
My family had sold me out, and the man I loved was planning to leave me with absolutely nothing.
I didn't cry. The pain burned away into a cold, hard hate. How could my own father conspire with them to destroy the only thing I had left of my mother?
I crashed their prestigious charity auction and played their filthy recording over the speakers for the entire town to hear.
But when Leo charged at me in a murderous rage, a wall of leather and muscle stepped in front of me.
Kade "Chaos" Peterson, the terrifying President of the rival motorcycle club, crushed Leo's wrist and announced to the stunned room, "She's with me now." Jilted Wife Returns As A Billionaire Heiress
Paula Gardini Chloe had just given birth to twins, lying exhausted in a cramped, bustling hospital ward.
When she called her husband, Julian, he was busy partying with his actress mistress. He coldly hung up on her, having already drafted a brutal divorce agreement that would leave her with a pittance.
Strangers in the next bed loudly mocked her pitiful state, gossiping about how Julian was dumping her. For years, Chloe had erased her own identity to fit into his elite world, only to be thrown away like garbage. She was completely alone, clutching her helpless babies, bracing herself to sign the cruel papers just to survive.
She couldn't understand why her absolute devotion was met with such chilling indifference. Why did she have to suffer this ultimate humiliation while he celebrated with the woman who ruined her life?
But then, a senior doctor noticed a unique mole on her wrist and ran a secret DNA test. The results were staggering: Chloe was the long-lost daughter of the billionaire Beaumont family. With her fiercely protective parents and three powerful brothers suddenly forming an impenetrable fortress around her, Chloe picked up her phone and texted her arrogant husband.
"City Hall tomorrow at 10 AM. If you don't show up, my lawyer will handle everything. And trust me, you won't like their terms." The Runaway Wife: Hiding His Secret Triplets
Hen Bu Five years ago, I stood in the freezing rain at my mother's funeral, waiting for my husband.
Blake Knight, the billionaire NHL superstar, was two hours late. When he finally showed up, he brought his rumored girlfriend, the woman he had just rented a hotel rooftop for to celebrate her birthday.
Watching him defend her fake tears, my heart completely died. I took off my diamond wedding ring, placed it on my mother's headstone, and walked away from my marriage forever.
I fled to London, changed my name to Ava, and secretly raised the triplets he never knew existed. I thought I was finally safe from him.
But today, my kids vandalized a silver Aston Martin in our apartment's parking garage, and the owner caught my youngest daughter.
My phone rang. The voice on the other end was Blake's.
He had moved into my building, and he was holding my little girl in his penthouse, demanding her mother come get her immediately.
Panic suffocated me. If I walked through that door, my five years of hiding would be instantly destroyed. He would recognize me, realize I didn't get rid of our child like everyone thought, and he would use all his power to take my babies away.
I couldn't let him ruin my life again.
"I'm just her nanny," I lied through my teeth.
I frantically begged my best friend to go upstairs and rescue my daughter in my place. He bought the disguise, but now, the King of the Ice is dangerously obsessed with investigating my new identity. The Billionaire I Slept With Became My Husband
Apache I went to my stepsister's birthday party, foolishly hoping for a family truce.
Instead, she drugged my drink and had me shoved into a dark hotel suite, where a stranger took my innocence.
When I sneaked back home the next morning, battered and humiliated, I overheard my stepsister and stepmother laughing in the hallway.
They had orchestrated the whole trap to destroy my reputation so I would be forced to marry a thrice-divorced, abusive butcher.
"And don't forget the little extras we've been putting in her food," my stepmother gloated. "She'll never lose the weight. That fat Miss Piggy is meant to be your backdrop."
The revelation chilled me to the bone.
My years of punishing diets, the brutal exercise, the deep self-hatred—none of it was my fault.
It was poison, fed to me daily by the family I trusted.
I packed a single bag, took the commemorative coin I had stolen from the stranger's nightstand as a reminder of my lowest point, and vanished into the city.
One year later, having lost ninety pounds and transformed into a completely different woman, I agreed to attend the blind date with the butcher they arranged.
But because of a flipped brass table number, I sat down in front of the wrong man.
It was Julian Sinclair, the billionaire stranger from that dark room, and he looked at me and proposed a contract marriage. While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her
Katie Oettgen As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole.
I begged him for help, my vision blurring.
But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background.
"Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again."
He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm.
I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube.
Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry.
Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled.
"You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up."
He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research.
I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym.
They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive.
They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity.
I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding.
I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it.
Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house.
The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born. The Ex-Wife's Return: His Child, Her Reckoning
A. N. Cruz Ivanna had everything: a stable marriage, a promising career, and the love of the man she had fought for, even against his own family.
But when she finally managed to conceive, fate tore her happiness away in the most heart-wrenching way imaginable. Her husband had wanted a child... just not with her.
She made the hardest decision of her life: signing a divorce agreement that left her with nothing. She left without looking back, her heart shattered, carrying a silent promise never to return.
Until now.
Four years have passed, and she's back in Boston, the city where her dreams were once shattered-with a new life, newfound strength... and a secret that will change everything.
She is no longer the same woman who left in silence. And her ex-husband isn't prepared to uncover what she's been hiding.
What will happen when the ex-wife returns with the one secret that might ruin him... or redeem him? His Tamed Wife, The Wild Heiress
Whisper 119 She married him out of desperation, becoming the perfect docile wife while he treated her like dirt beneath his shoes. But everything shattered the night she overheard him mocking her with his friends-and discovered the necklace she'd cherished, her only link to the boy who once saved her life, didn't even belong to him.
It was all a lie.
No longer the doormat he married, she discards her fake identity and reclaims her birthright as the hidden heiress of Salvadore City. Now she's on a mission: find the necklace's true owner among his circle of friends, no matter how many hearts she has to break along the way.
But her husband isn't ready to let go. Convinced she's playing games to make him jealous, he's blindsided when divorce papers land in his hands. By the time he realizes the woman he dismissed was never who he thought she was, she's already moved on-living her truth, chasing her destiny, and leaving him choking on regret.
Some cages, once opened, can never be closed again. Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father
Madel Cerda I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector.
That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world.
The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor.
The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist.
Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch-a titan of industry and my best friend's father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared.
"Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb.
Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen.
"Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back."
I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe.