Novelas y relatos de Eleanor Lamb Bioshock

After five years in a world ruled by werewolves, I still haven't found a way back to the human world. So I did the only thing I could. I married my fated mate, Ryan Darcy, a devastatingly handsome Lycan Prince with a towering frame. The night we sealed our mate bond, we traded secrets. Leaning close, I whispered in his ear, "The truth is, I'm not from this world. Treat me wrong, and I'll disappear back to where I came from. You'll never find me again." Ryan immediately swears he'll love me more than life itself. He pulls me close, holding me so tight it's like he's afraid I'll disappear any second. But then Eleanor Darcy—his stepsister, sent away for a political marriage in another pack—returns. Bit by bit, I watch as Ryan's attention shifts to her. Devastated, I start looking for a way back to the human world. I throw myself at walls, try to hang myself, even jump into the lake, but nothing works. Ryan grows more distant with each passing day. "Susan, I expected better from you. Since when have you stooped to cheap attention-seeking stunts? 'Crossed over from another world?' You can't honestly expect me to buy that nonsense." That's when I realized he hadn't believed a single word I'd said.

Mom has extreme mania. Dad was murdered when I was eight, and I went blind while trying to save Mom. I became her only family and weakness. Anyone who makes fun of me for being blind has their eyes gouged out; anyone who disrespects me is sliced and diced before being fed to the dogs. Later, Mom turns into a she-devil with a hundred-billion-dollar net worth. Everyone in Gristport fears her, but she treats me like a princess. The whole city knows not to offend Eleanor Heinrich's daughter. She scours the world for the best optometrists to treat my eyes. On the day I regain my vision, I hear about Mom finding her birth daughter. She says, "You'll soon have a sister who loves you very much, Sienna." I hear that my sister has been through a lot since childhood and is introverted. I prepare many gifts for her, even wanting to give her the pendant Dad gave me. Yet she instructs her people to take me to a deserted roof. "You're nothing but a faker who stole my place in life! I'm going to slice your tongue—let's see how you can continue lying to Mom when you can't speak!" She shatters the pendant, gouges my eyeballs out, slashes my tongue, and has several men torment me to death. Lastly, she includes my eyeballs as decorations in a bouquet and brings it to Mom. "This is a gift I've prepared for your birthday, Mom. Do you like it?"

The Day I Was Reborn, I Rejected the Alpha In my previous life, on my third year as Luna, I took an arrow tipped with wolfsbane meant for my Alpha mate Julian. My wolf was nearly killed, and I lay comatose for three full years. When I finally woke, Julian held my sister Lyra's hand and told me they were in love. He wanted me to step aside. My adoptive mother, Eleanor, pressured me to accept it. I refused. When the three of them closed in on me, I appealed to the Council of Elders. In the end, the Council ruled that Lyra be exiled. She couldn't bear the humiliation, and took her own life. Julian let me keep my title as Luna, but he hated me for the rest of his life. He would look at me with cold, dead eyes. "You should never have woken up. Then I wouldn't have lost Lyra." My adoptive mother blamed me too — for killing my sister, for destroying our family. Seven years later, grief and alcohol had hollowed Julian out completely. On his deathbed, the cold mask slipped. He gripped my hand. "In the next life... will you let me have Lyra?" Something in me went numb. After Julian was gone, the pack fell apart without an Alpha. Every one of them cursed me for being the one still alive. In the fighting that came after, my own pack handed me over to a rival pack. They put a dozen arrows through me. I died alone in the wilderness. When I opened my eyes, I was back — back to the day I first woke up.

"Do you know what it feels like to know that all the decisions that you've ever taken in your life are masterminded by someone?" Eleanor Welsh is an intelligent, independent girl who always wanted her life to be in her control since the tragic fatal accident that claimed her parents' lives at twelve. Being an orphan at a such tender age, her father's best friend, Antonio Welsh, took her into his custody but sold her off to a contracted marriage later on to a heartless billionaire, Ethan Grayson, in dire need to save his business from bankruptcy. What happens when the mysteries of her parent's death unfold with her protective husband backing her up? Ethan walked into the dark room unhurriedly with both hands in the pockets of his pants. He was furious, yet he had his usually calm expression. He walked to the fireplace in the room which was the only source of light in the room and pulled out a hot metal. From the way the metal glowed in a dark-red crimson color, even a fool can tell that the metal had been in the fire for hours. Walking to where a man who was chained to the wall with blood all over his body was with the metal still in his hands, Ethan stood before the man, his eyes black from the lack of light in the room. "Mr. Grayson, please..." the man pleaded in almost a whisper "I didn't know she was your wife." Before anybody in the room could blink, the hot metal was placed on the man's face. The man screamed in pain as hot tears fell from his eyes, before fainting. "Take him to his boss as my gift. Anyone that touches my property, I will burn him in hell." Max nodded.

By the third year of my marriage to Daniel Hawthorne, the war had already taken more than it ever returned, and this time it took his younger brother, Thomas Hawthorne. My sister-in-law, Eleanor, collapsed, and in the weeks that followed she tried to follow her husband into death— once with sleeping pills, once by the river beyond the officers’ quarters— only to be dragged back both times, each time clinging to me afterward as though I were the last thing keeping her grounded. I stayed with her, wiped her tears, and whispered that Thomas would want her to live, until the day she received the test results confirming she was three months pregnant, and the grief of losing her husband was slowly softened by the arrival of new life. I smiled too, believing grief had finally loosened its grip. That night, holding my own pregnancy test in my hand and thinking it was finally time to tell Daniel, I passed the study and heard his friend say quietly, “She’s carrying your child. You convinced the doctors to adjust the timeline so everyone would believe the baby belonged to your brother. Aren’t you afraid Margaret will find out?” Daniel didn’t hesitate. “She won’t,” he said calmly. “She loves me. She wouldn’t leave. I won’t let her know.” I didn’t step inside. I didn’t confront him. Instead, I opened the letter I had received weeks earlier— an official deployment order from the international medical corps, assigning me to a frontline war zone— and tapped Accept.

They killed me for an inheritance. The Moon Goddess gave me a second chance—and a dangerous mate. Lyra Stone died at the hands of the man she loved, murdered for the fortune her grandfather William left her. Jaxon—her foster brother, her husband, her executioner—stabbed her while his manipulative sister Aurelia laughed. The pregnancy that might have saved her died with her that night, along with every desperate hope she'd clung to. But when Lyra opens her eyes, she's back in her childhood bedroom on the day her nightmare began—the day the Stone family found their "real daughter" and Lyra became disposable. This time, she refuses to be their victim. Armed with the knowledge of their betrayal, Lyra makes a reckless choice: one night of freedom, one stranger in a club, one scorching encounter that awakens something she never knew existed. What she doesn't expect is to discover her one-night stand is Asher Greyson—the faceless Alpha whose identity no one knows, cursed to feel nothing until he finds his fated mate. And she's his. Asher needs a Luna within three months or lose his throne. Lyra needs protection from a family determined to destroy her. Their mating bond is convenient, combustible, and completely forbidden by the very people trying to steal everything William left her. But Lyra isn't the weak, love-starved girl who died begging for scraps anymore. She's their Luna now. And she's coming for everything they took—her inheritance, her dignity, her revenge. Let Aurelia play her games. Let Eleanor and Thomas choose their real daughter. Let Jaxon realize too late what he destroyed.

!R18+ Contains matured content. Viewers Discretion is advised.! "Do you, perhaps, have a wife or a fiance at home?" I inquired. He blinked at me once before he shook his head negatively. "Oh great! This is great." I mumbled and my eyes looked to his navy blue Armani Suit and with a nod, I added, "Your outfit is perfect as well." "Perfect for what?" He asked. "A wedding. We're getting married. Let's get married." "What?" ••• What would you do when, on your wedding day, you find your so-called fiance in his dressing room with his manhood buried deep in between another woman's thigh? Call off the wedding and leave, right? That's when you're free to make your own decisions though. It's not the same for Avery Roosevelt, the hidden heiress of The Roosevelts. This, however, is the sticky situation she finds herself in. Livid with anger, she grabs the first man in front of the hotel reception and proposes marriage to him. But when she finally discovers the man she had proposed marriage to was the CEO of the company her Family has been in rivalry with for ages? And when the secret behind her birth is revealed to the world? Would her husband stand by her or let her go? And when another secret is unveiled to the couple? A secret that depended on their future together. Would they drift apart or would love prevail? "Hubby, I slapped Eleanor Roosevelt for badmouthing you. Did I do wrong?" "Of course not. Let me see your wrist... Does it hurt you?" "Hubby, I cursed at the wife of your business partner for calling me a b*tch." "It's fine. I don't plan on working with them anyway." "Hubby..." •••

After I remarry my wife, Vivian Crowell, I decide to rent her out to other men. When her male best friend, Elliot Everhart, summons her away from me, I no longer kick up a fuss about it. Instead, I charge Vivian by the hour. The rent is 10 thousand dollars per hour during the day, whereas it'll be 20 thousand dollars per hour at night. If it's a holiday, all prices will be tripled. After running my new business for three months, I now have an additional 20 million dollars in my account. Although Vivian has promised to pick out my suit for the banquet with me, Elliot calls her and complains about how he's nicked his finger with a knife when he was cutting vegetables. I don't even bother raising my head as I hand my bank account number over to Vivian. One midnight, I suddenly suffer from a fever. When Vivian is driving me to the hospital, Elliot calls her and claims that he can't sleep due to discomfort caused by his intoxication. I merely pull out my umbrella fluently and tell Vivian to drop me off at the junction ahead. Upon noticing her hesitation, I just smile at her. "Don't forget to transfer the payment to me." On the day our son, Victor Carrington, is going for his regular follow-up appointment, Elliot calls Vivian once again. "Eleanor wants to go to the amusement park. It'll only be fun when we have a woman to accompany us there." After Vivian ends the call, she turns around and is about to crouch down to explain everything to Victor when she sees him mimicking my actions by sticking out his hand at her. "It's fine, Mommy. You can just pay us. But today's rate is the triple kind."

My fiancé presented two engagement rings—one for me, one for my sister to choose first. The first was a three-carat fancy pink diamond, flown in from Antwerp, the kind that made dealers go quiet. The second was a plain platinum band, standard issue, the sort you buy off the tray as a backup. For the first time in my life, I pointed at the pink diamond. "I'll choose first this time." Dante Moretti ran his hand through my hair, the way you soothe a restless dog. "Eleanor, you know Grace has always been particular. If she can't have the best, she'd rather have nothing. You've never cared about any of this. The other one is fine." I didn't answer. My chest felt hollow. We'd grown up together—his father ran the West Coast territory, mine the East. But in Dante's eyes, I'd always been the second daughter, the one who got what Grace didn't want. Every summer, he'd cut watermelon and bring the first plate to Grace. She'd take the center slice—sweetest, seedless, deepest red. He'd push the rest toward me—the pale pink near the rind. "This part's still good. Just not as sweet." When he bought his first Maserati, Grace picked the front seat—less motion sickness. He gestured at the back. "A little tight, but you can pick either side." Even our love was secondhand. He'd loved Grace first. She chose her academic career over him. So Dante, wounded and restless, came to me. In his world, Grace was always the first choice. I looked at the platinum band and pushed it across the table. "Give them both to Grace. I don't want either."

As the price of gold soars, my late mother, Eleanor Hutchinson, appears to me in my dream. She tells me she has left a gold bangle on my nightstand. If I wear them, they'll bring me wealth and bless the child I'm carrying. But after I find the bangle, I give it to the rabid dog the neighbors keep locked up. In my previous life, my younger sister, Irene Owens, and I marry two brothers and become pregnant at the same time. During a prenatal checkup, the doctor says Irene's baby appears to have severe birth defects and recommends terminating the pregnancy. She doesn't take it seriously at all. That very day, Mom comes to me in my dream, and I find the gold bangle on my bedside table. After I tell Irene about it, she slips the bangle onto my wrists. She says, "You always say Mom favors me. But after she dies, you're the first person she thinks of and approaches. Just wear them." I do exactly as she says and never take the bangle off. But on the day we give birth, Irene delivers a healthy baby boy with rosy cheeks and a loud, vigorous cry. My baby, however, is born with two sets of reproductive organs. The child isn't breathing the moment it's delivered. Before this, every prenatal exam has shown that my baby is healthy. I realize Irene and the bangle must have something to do with it. The sight of my horribly deformed baby drives me insane. In a fit of rage, I dig up Mom's grave and confront Irene. "Why does Mom keep paving the way for you even after she's dead?" She has me committed to a psychiatric hospital. I waste away in despair until I die. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Mom first appears in my dream.