Dr Brar Apple Valley Novels & Stories

PHOEBE - Holy mother of craps! I had lost my virginity to the college’s bad boy, Asher Gilbert. And, he told me it meant nothing to him. He told me to get lost! ********* ASHER - All my life till now, no one had ever intimidated me. Not anyone. Not my dad, nor the school principal… Not those street gangs… lastly, not the mafia. But this strange girl— a Maserati shows up. Making me urge to brand her, as mine. ********** “Why are you like this to me?” “What do you mean?” “Why are you so dismissive but save me, every time I land in trouble?” He didn’t reply that. Instead, he sighed, crunching the plastic bottle in his hand. He threw it in anger to the other side of the room. Then he approached me. I took three steps back, timidly. His intimidating gaze dropped towards mine. He didn’t stop until the back of my head contacted the wall. Only then did his both hands angle at the sides of my head. My eyes immediately gorged at his hard-on. Flash backs of the night we had together immediately ran through my brain. The only thing I could think of was the way my mouth was wrapped around him. His Adam’s apple swallowed numerous times, making me wonder what he thought of. It was like one of those scenes of movies. Like he was in a battle with himself. But the question was, what was he so protective about? Why didn’t he like making conversations with females? “I’m never gonna change, Phoebe. Remember that,” ********* What is worse than drunken one-night-stand, with the college’s bad boy? Or a cold treatment thereafter? However, one pregnancy changes it all. In this love so wrong, can they ever make things right?

Rivergate's most elite social circle had always shared an unspoken rule. Men were free to play the field as they pleased, drifting from one woman to the next. Women, on the other hand, were only allowed a single, discreet indulgence on the day they came of age—a privately hired "life assistant" meant to take care of their physical needs. … On my coming-of-age day, I picked Elliot at first glance from a hundred applicants who came in for interviews. He wore gold-rimmed glasses, looked composed and restrained, and carried himself with a calm maturity that set him apart. He was steady, meticulous, and obsessively clean. The only condition he agreed to was that there would be no bodily contact—hands only. And after every encounter, he would scrub his hands with disinfectant alcohol a hundred times. Over five years, the empty bottles alone were enough to circle the villa seven times. I used to think that one day, I'd help him overcome his barriers and truly make him mine. That illusion shattered the night I got drunk and accidentally wandered into Elliot's room. Hidden beneath his pillow was a DV camera, and inside were several videos of him pleasuring himself. On the screen, the same man who had always been calm and rational with me was staring at the lingerie of the adopted sister who had caused my mother's death, his Adam's apple bobbing as he moaned her name, "Chloe… I love you…" Only then did I realize that every step he had taken toward me had never been about me at all. It had always been a carefully concealed, long-nurtured love for her. So, it was very odd that he cried when I took my adopted sister's place in marrying someone else.

It’s Monday and my first day of my new school. I drive my car around to where everyone else is parked, so I find myself a parking spot. Then I find the front office and go in and get my schedule. My first class is math, so I walk into the room and I’m the first one in there so I walk up to the teacher and hand him my paper to sign that I have to take back to the front office this afternoon. “Hello Miss. Billie Green I’m Mrs. Smart. It’s very nice to meet you.” The math teacher says, then sings the paper. You can go find yourself a set. I would try to find one in the front on the left-hand side. The kids pretty much already have the back full.” She tells me, and really it’s okay. I kinda like the front anyway. I make my way to a seat that looks vacant and sit down. Kids start piling in about five minutes later. And walking to their seats, there’s a tiny little girl that comes and seats down behind me. She introduces herself as Shaylee Apple. “Hello Shaylee Apple I’m Billie Green.” I tell her and hold my hand out to shake hers. I turn back around in my seat about the same time as a tall guy that has dirty blonde hair cut into spikes all over, ash gray eyes, so gray I can see the color all the way in my seat. He’s wearing a tight fitted gray shirt, and blue jeans. He has a very handsome face, but then he looks at me and instantly I see hatred in his eyes. What the heck, he doesn’t even know me. .

While I was nine months pregnant, the apple of my husband’s eye moved into our house. Whenever she saw me, she would make a sad face. My husband was sure that I was flaunting my pregnancy to make her angry. “Rachel is frail, and she can’t get pregnant, yet you’re walking around making her upset?! Do I seriously have to teach you a lesson?!” He ordered the bodyguards to lock me in the attic that had not been in use for a long time and told them not to give me food. I pleaded for mercy and told him that the ultrasound scan showed that the twin babies were too big. I told him that the doctor had claimed that I had to be hospitalized while I waited for my delivery. But he laughed as if he had heard the world’s greatest joke. When he spoke, his voice was as cold as ice. “You’re still three days away from your delivery date! Enough with the pitiful act! Repent while you’re in the attic! This is what you get for making Rachel upset!” The contractions hurt so much that I clenched my fists to the point that my nails broke, but no one unlocked the door to the attic. My piercing screams echoed in the attic for a long time until my whole body was soaked in blood, and one of my babies was stuck between my bloody legs. Three days later, my husband ate his breakfast that was not up to his taste and said, “Have Jane make breakfast for me, then have her apologize to Rachel with a gift. If she’s sincere enough, I’ll send her to the hospital to deliver the babies.” But no one dared go up to the attic because the blood that flowed down from it had already reached the second step of the stairs.

Richard Franklin has left his Midwestern roots behind to live on the coast of Maine with his family. But in the autumn of the year 2000, he must return to his Illinois birthplace on a sorrowful journey. His wife Michelle has been killed in New England by a hit-and-run driver who is never found, so back home he comes with her cremated remains, to fulfill a final wish and on her birthday scatter her ashes in the park along the river in Blackwater Valley—simply Blackwater Val to locals—the small town where they both grew up and fell in love. With him he brings his six-year-old daughter Katie who still grieves for her lost mother: Katie, who can sometimes guess who’s going to be on the phone before it rings. Who can stop all the clocks in the house, and break up clouds in the sky with her mind, and heal sicknesses, and who sometimes sees things that aren’t there...people who are no longer alive. All gifts she inherited from her mother. Only something isn’t quite right in the Val. Sinkholes are opening up, revealing the plague pits the sleepy hamlet was built over in the 1830s, when malaria and cholera outbreaks ran riot. Mysterious bird and fish die-offs begin to occur, and Katie can see ghosts of the dead gathering all around. But what she can’t see is the charred, centuries-old malevolence which has been waiting for her, and wants her for its very own. Or the pale Sallow Man who haunts the town’s nighttime streets...or the river witch—another Blackwater Val, of sorts—each of whom will be drawn one by one into the nightmarish bloodletting about to take place. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

“You think you can tame an old daddy like me?” Mr. Domenico Lombardi’s stone-like voice makes me nervous, but I’m not backing down; I know what I want. “Yes,” I added a nod to confirm it but cursed internally at my luck. I’ve never had a boyfriend, and here I am trying to tame a man old enough to be my father. It is said that the apple does not fall far from the tree. I guess I am truly Kate’s daughter. I had an internal laugh at my stupidity. He scoffed, and I responded by nodding once more while watching the darkening of the silvery gray pupils in his eyes. How come? I brush it off as his cold eyes wash over me. Domenico Lombardi’s presence makes me squirm. When I’m around him, I get the impression that I’m being judged and ignored at every turn. “How old are you?” “18” “How old is your father?” “38,” I replied truthfully. “Well, I’m 37 years old.” He stared at me; his eyes darkened again, and I became terrified. I fiddle with my nails, clipping them together as I lean back on my heels to help relieve some of the anxiety he’s causing me. “You see, I’m like a father to you, or maybe a grandfather or a great-great-grandfather. How many boyfriends have you had in your life?” “None.” He chuckled as I responded. “You see, I’ve lost count of how many ladies I’ve fucked, thousands or millions, over the centuries. You are just a little girl to me with nothing to offer; now, get lost!” “My panties made you hard!” “You think so?” “Yes,” I responded confidently. “Well, I wasn’t hard; I just have a donkey-like cock.”

Aria Hale once believed the Moon Goddess had blessed her when she found her fated mate. But the night Alpha Kael Blackthorn rejected her before his entire pack, her world shattered. She had come to the Silver Crest Pack with nothing but courage and hope, an orphan from a destroyed clan, dreaming of a place to belong. Instead, she was branded unworthy, her heart torn apart by the man destiny had chosen for her. Kael was power and pride wrapped in human form, a leader who feared weakness more than death. He convinced himself that love was a burden he could not afford, that tenderness would destroy the Alpha he was meant to be. So when fate placed a gentle, broken girl in his path, he turned away. He broke the bond and drove her from his territory, believing that rejection would set him free. He was wrong. Years passed, but her scent of lavender haunted him through every battle and every sleepless night. His wolf mourned for what had been lost. He told himself she was gone, but the ache never faded. Somewhere deep inside, Kael knew that part of him had died the moment she walked away. Far from his reach, hidden in a quiet human valley called Mistwood, Aria built a new life. She healed others with her herbs and her kindness, raising a secret that carried both her heart and her pain — a boy with golden eyes and the same strength she once saw in his father. She named him Liam, and he became her reason to breathe.

Sanjana lost her parents when she was just a child. Raised by her maternal uncle in the breathtaking valley of Kashmir, she grows up clinging to two dreams—her passion for journalism and the music that flows through her veins. To survive, she sings on the radio, her haunting voice slowly becoming a quiet comfort to countless listeners. Liam, the son of a ruthless billionaire, wants nothing to do with power or legacy. Music is his only escape. On his friend Kabir’s advice, he travels to Kashmir in search of a voice powerful enough to heal him—and finds Sanjana. Her innocence, strength, and quiet resilience pull him in, and love soon takes root. But fate is merciless. A horrific car accident leaves Sanjana’s face severely disfigured. Before she can recover, Liam’s powerful mother steps in, threatening and forcing Sanjana to disappear from Liam’s life forever. Pregnant and broken, Sanjana vanishes without explaining the truth. Unable to watch her suffer, her uncle reveals a long-buried secret—Sanjana’s father belonged to an elite British family. With the help of his brother, a renowned plastic surgeon, Sanjana is given a second chance. In London, she emerges with a new face, a new name, and a shattered heart. Years later, Sanjana is Samantha Blake, a successful journalist in the UK. Fate brings her face-to-face with the past when she is assigned to cover the engagement of a billionaire—Liam. He doesn’t recognize her face. But her voice refuses to let him forget. As buried truths surface and old wounds reopen, love is tested by betrayal, loss, and the question neither of them can escape— Can love survive when everything has changed… except the heart?

It's the tenth anniversary of my bonding with my warrior mate, Owen Chase, and also our son Leo's birthday. A month earlier, I spent $8000 arranging a trip to the Blood Moon Forest. I plan to take my mate and pup to the Moon Goddess' sacred grounds to receive her blessings. This is supposed to be a happy anniversary celebration for our complete werewolf family. I've prepared everything and booked tickets for the Twilight Coach. But on the night before our departure, Owen and Leo suddenly block our mind-link. "Dad and I are having dinner with Ms. Emma on the 24th floor of Moonlight Restaurant. We've cancelled the tickets—we're not going." The call ends there. They promptly block my number as well. I rush back to our pack overnight, only to find that the security system no longer recognizes me. That night, every household locks its doors and activates protective barriers against the toxic mist of the Silver Mines in the nearby Moonveil Valley, while I could only huddle on the stone steps outside our house, inhaling the silver-laden fog all night. The poisonous substances flood my systems. I am sent to the hospital, burning with fever as my wolf grows weaker with every labored breath. Meanwhile, my family is busy touring Central City with Emma Skinner, spending the money I had worked so hard to earn. Owen posts a photo on his social media. In the photo, Emma, my mate Owen, and my child Leo stand hand-in-hand in front of the wishing fountain in Central City, all smiling brightly. The caption reads: "A perfect trip, a perfect family of three." It is only then that I finally understand—this family exists in name only. It's time for me to rebuild my life.

The bread knife stuck in Jon doe’s chest had an unusual pattern, I grabbed a camera from the nearest person and clicked a few pictures of the design “Email them to me.” I said as I was handing the camera back to them. It looked ancient and rare, not the usual bread knifes you’d find at our local stores here in Seattle. I looked up to find a detective watching my every move, it seemed that his one side of the face looked sunken in, similarly you only see this in people who don’t have teeth, which prompted me to look into his mouth, to find that all of his teeth had been pulled out. I sighed loudly and said “well, here goes our identification route of checking dental records, this body was left in the hopes that no identification will be made!” Craning my neck to have a look at the coroner who had just arrived on scene, I recalled working with her once before on another case when I first started as a rookie, Dr Leslie Adams is an expert in her field and one of the most professional and efficient woman. She looked down at me, and stated “Detective Rush you do know that the body you are looking at has been dead for more than 3 days, and also looks as if it was stored in a body freezer before being planted at this scene” I shook my head and realised that this is getting more intense by the second, “I hadn’t realised so Doc, that’s the reason we have you here, to help me solve the mystery “- I said whilst walking up to her, I held out my hand and gave her hand a firm handshake.