Is Sloan McSteamy Based On A Real Doctor?

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).

Sold off into marriage to save her mother, Liora thought life would eventually be kind to her, but life threw a dagger at her in the hands of the man she had grown to love. Five years later, Liora Adams returns to New York, no longer the broken girl she once was but a famous doctor, determined to make everyone pay. Nothing prepared her when Travis Ashford looked her in the eyes and said, ‘I need a fix, doctor.’ ‘Mr. Ashford, you’ve got the money; why not get one? ” Liora asked. ‘Only you can fix me, Liora," Travis answered. Liora’s lip curved in amusement as she answered, ‘Oh, Mr. Ashford, fixing exes is not a part of my specialty.’

I slide into the bath and let my muscles melt. My mind drifts—back to dinner, the city skyline glittering behind Tommy’s head. I close my eyes, biting my lip. One hand trails beneath the water, slow and lazy. I don’t mean to. But it’s all still so fresh—the way his hands felt on my skin, how deeply he— Except, it’s not Tommy I’m imagining anymore. It’s the doctor. Suddenly, it’s his fingers I’m imagining spreading me open. That cool composure cracking as he groans my name into my neck. “Oh, fuck,” I moan, breath catching as the orgasm rips through me like a shot of white lightning. My back arches against the porcelain. Water sloshes. “Dr. Cole,” I gasp before I can stop it. And then I freeze. What. The. Hell. **************************************************** He’s her gynecologist. Her client. And her boyfriend’s father. What could possibly go wrong? Beth thought dating Tommy was the start of something stable. Sure, he was cocky and impulsive—but charming, right? Until the red flags started piling up. The gambling. The secrets. The mood swings. The way he always blamed her when things went wrong. But then she meets his father. Dr. Stacy Cole. Silver fox. Calm. Collected. Everything Tommy wasn’t. And she already know him. He’s her OB/GYN. Her firm’s newest client. And the man who makes her body betray her every time he’s near. Beth knows she should stay away. But when Tommy starts spiraling and Stacy starts looking less like a boundary and more like a lifeline… she’s forced to face a terrifying truth: She might be falling for the one man who could destroy everything. Taboo. Addictive. Slow burning. Emotionally dangerous. This isn’t your average age-gap romance.

Just imagine… You’re a doctor trained to heal broken minds — and now, your newest patient is the man everyone fears. A billionaire with a temper no one can control. A man betrayed by the woman he loved, now drowning in rage, guilt, and pain. Now imagine being offered a million dollars to marry him. Not for love. Not for romance. But as his “treatment.”

Artist Selena Chase unintentionally did something unforgivable to Dr. Cassandra York. That intimidating woman wanted to hear nothing from her but one No or two No's won't stop her. She knew how to get her attention and that was by booking an appointment! There was no way that the doctor would refuse a 'patient'. What she thought would be a normal session turned into a steamy one and nothing remained the same after that.

In my last life, the Fosters acknowledged me as their real son. But my own sister framed me for causing their adopted son's relapse. My biological parents believed her and threw me out. Not long after, I died sick and alone on the street. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day the Fosters came to take me home. Gracie Foster stood in front of our parents, pointed at me, and said, "Mom, Dad, he's not my brother!" They looked at me in disappointment, then turned and left. I stood there without taking out the locket that could prove who I was, then quietly walked back into the orphanage. Twenty years later, I became one of the country's leading cardiologist. The woman sitting across from me handed over a medical file, her voice trembling. "Doctor, please. Save my brother." When I saw the name, I stopped. My gaze shifted to her worn, haggard face. I stared at her for a long time before finally saying, "I won't take this patient."