Is 'Life Lessons From A Brain Surgeon' Worth Reading?

Shantelle Scott has been in love with Evan Thompson since she was young. When Evan's father arranged for her to be his wife, she willingly agreed, despite knowing it was against Evan's will. She devoted her life to him in their two-year marriage, forgetting her aspirations. She hoped her husband would love her back. Sadly, one day, Evan coldly said, "I want a divorce! I want you out of my life, Shantelle!" Years passed, Shantelle became a famous surgeon. When her ex-husband came to see her, he asked, "Doctor Shant, I need your expertise." "What is wrong with you, Mister Thompson?" She asked. Yearning reflected in the man's eyes as he suggested, "My heart is broken, and only you can mend it." Shantelle laughed and replied, "Mister Thompson, I am a doctor. I'm not God." *** There are two versions of the book. Old readers can access the old version in your library. Please scroll down. If you don't find it, kindly contact goodnovel (contact@goodnovel.com).

Dr. Clara Evans lives by one rule: Save everyone. But when Dante Moretti—billionaire tycoon and the city’s most feared Mafia leader—stumbles into her ER drenched in blood and bullet holes, she realizes some lives come with a price. She saved his heart from stopping, but she didn’t realize he was already planning to steal hers. When Clara’s brother gambles away his life to the wrong people, Dante offers a deal signed in shadows: The debt is cleared, but Clara belongs to him for six months.

They threw me away like I was nothing. Divorced me for my younger, prettier, fertile sister. I signed divorce papers while I suspected I was finally pregnant. Smiled while they handed me five thousand dollars and told me to disappear. I disappeared, alright. Off a cliff, Into freezing water. Nearly drowned carrying his twins. Someone wanted me dead. His family buried the investigation before my body was even cold, except there was no body. Because I survived. Ten years later, I walk back into their world as Dr. Scarlett Fox. The surgeon they're begging to save his dying mother. He doesn't recognize me until it's too late. Untill he sees my face and his entire world crumbles. Then he sees my kids, his kids. With his eyes and my fury. Now Nicholas's on his knees. Saying he spent a decade in hell thinking he killed me. Saying he's changed. But someone in his family is guilty, and as I dig deeper, people start watching. The man who saved me, Spencer, wants me to stop. He says it's too dangerous. That I should choose him, let the past stay buried. But I didn't survive murder just to run back scared. I'm Dr. Scarlett Fox now. Elite surgeon. Single mother. And I'm about to perform the most important operation of my life. Cutting out the cancer in the Cruz family. Even if it kills me this time.

During the ten years since I was found and brought to my biological family, Sonia Baxter, the girl who took my place, and I have been as close as real sisters. Even Mom says that Sonia cares more about me than a real sister would. I once swore I'd give my life to protect our special family of four. When Sonia is rushed into emergency surgery with a ruptured cerebral aneurysm, I am in my office, calmly practicing a basic suturing technique on a surgical simulator. On the screen, the robotic arm threads the needle with such precision that it looks like a work of art. A few minutes later, my boyfriend, Oliver Lyons, slams open the office door and shouts at me, "Amelia Baxter! Sonia's in critical condition. Only your micro-dissection skills can save her! Every expert in the hospital is waiting for you! We've got less than an hour before the window closes!" He looks at me with hopeful eyes. I'm the only person in the country capable of performing a surgery this complex. My hands are even known as the "Hands of God". However, I simply reply with a hum and continue fiddling with the model. Suddenly, my parents rush in. Mom grabs my arm and cries out, "Amelia! That's your sister in there! How could you just stand by and watch her die?" I gently pull away from her and hold my right hand out in front of them. This hand, which had once created countless medical miracles, is now trembling slightly. "Unfortunately, since yesterday, I've been showing symptoms of essential tremor. Dad, Mom… this hand is ruined."

In the sterile calm of the operating room, Dr. Marcus Valencia is celebrated for his precision, his steady hands healing wounds that others deemed impossible. But beneath the surgeon’s blade lies a heart scarred by a past he’s struggled to bury. When he falls in love, a new chapter begins—until a shocking truth slices through, unearthing a dark secret that binds them both to a night of unspeakable horror. Now, Marcus faces an agonizing choice: fulfilling his duty or answering the resounding call for justice, now lying in front of him. With justice resting in his hands, immerse yourself in a novel where the call of duty, the depths of true love, and the burning desire for revenge for family clash in a poignant struggle.

This year, as the country's leading neurosurgeon, I was invited to perform a high-profile specialist surgery at a hospital in another state. Twenty years ago, I stood in this very operating room. My mother suffered a cerebral hemorrhage, and the surgeon's hand slipped by less than a quarter of an inch. She died. Back then, it was my first love, Ethan Lancaster, who helped me through the grief. Only later did I learn the truth. The surgeon listed on the case was Ethan's father, the hospital's renowned Chief of Neurosurgery. But the one actually holding the scalpel was Ethan himself, still a surgical resident at the time. He and Vanessa Hart had planned it all along. They used my mother's operation as a practice case to advance his career. After the tragedy, Vanessa used her status as the hospital director's daughter to bury the entire incident. From that day forward, I gave up my guaranteed research placement and sat for medical school entrance exams again. I studied from undergraduate through postdoctoral training. I spent twenty full years turning myself into the kind of surgeon who would never make that mistake. All so that one day, no one else would have to suffer the same tragedy my mother did. Today, my assistant slid a patient's file across the desk. Brainstem tumor. Late stage. Extremely high risk. The face in the photo had aged considerably, but I recognized it at a glance. I handed the file back to my assistant and removed my surgical coat. “I can't perform this surgery.”