Ethan Garcia Novels & Stories

The photograph was the same young woman. My grandmother. The real Garcia. The live comments erupted. “So THAT is the real Garcia? Then who’s the woman next to him?” “The letters say it plainly. And he just said he ‘rejected’ her. Lying without batting an eye.” “So the real Garcia was abandoned in the rural West. Who is this fake Garcia? This is insane.” Daniel Harrington’s lips pressed into a thin line. He gripped the table. His fingertips were white. A bead of sweat ran down his forehead.

Soon, Don returned with some men. Ethan’s face had been so badly burnt, it was no longer recognizable. Since he had the same build as Alejandro, Ethan had hidden his past from the public and undergone numerous plastic surgeries. Appearance-wise, he had practically become Alejandro Smith’s twin. To make his disguise even more convincing, he had destroyed his own fingerprints.

*"What did you talk to my brother about? You didn't tell him anything did you?” “We were just talking about who our favorite athletes are, right George?” Alpha Darren gave George the code by pressing the backrest of his wheelchair. “He has bad taste.” George's reply made Diana unable to hold back her laughter. She laughed while covering her mouth. “You're right about your brother, his mouth is spicier than chili.” George gaped, “Diana, you have a heart.” Diana just shook her head and helped Alpha Darren put George onto the gurney.

The guard dropped his arms and moved back a step, shaking his head he looked at her again, trying to regain his previous confidence. "Why don't you just kill him and get it over with?" he asked her with a confused look on his face mixed with hope and an emotion I couldn't understand. That confused me, why would this man want her to kill someone?. From the look on Marks face he was wondering the same thing as me and was just as baffled as me about this whole situation. Again she chuckled and cocked her head a little to the side and then the most angelic voice I have ever heard wrapped around me. "Do you really think I would kill your alpha?" she asked the guard with a small smile on her face,

~Introduction to the Male lead~ Name: Zion Black Knight. Age: 19 years. Lives in: Manchester. A British national. Height: 6.1ft, Fair skin, black eye. He is a high schooler. He is somebody that can't be restrained or tamed. The child of world's best and richest businessman, Andrew Black Knight. The one who brought the renovation in the entire IT industry. He is rich, handsome and intelligent with a photographic memory. Perfect in every way.

I said as I got up to leave but he pulls me back. "Will you please just calm down?" he said. just then his phone beeps and as he was about to bring it out, the phone fell and a video of a woman masturbating and calling out his name was on the screen, that was enough to bring out the hidden Usain Bolt in me. Run Erica Run

_*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> I'll be there in 20 minutes. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> I threw on clothes, grabbed my keys, and drove to Marcus's apartment in record time. My mind was racing. Ethan was back. After six years. Six years of me trying to convince myself that the attraction I'd felt had been a stupid crush, that the way my body had responded to him had been nothing, that the dreams I'd had were just fantasy. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> Ethan Rivera. Thirty-two years old to my twenty-four. Former Marine. Covered in tattoos and scars from tours in Afghanistan. Dark eyes that saw through every defense. A body built for combat and sin.

He wanted to make it his secret hideaway. “Carter won't stop talking about how his mares are going to love the mountain air and how he wants to add an arena for training or something like that.” He took a sip of wine. “I just smile and nod, and it makes him happy.” Laura chuckled. “You know Mr. Williamson?” The man nodded. “I work with him at the California offices.” He smiled and held out a hand. “I'm Ethan, by the way.” “Laura,” she said, taking the handshake. It was firm and strong, much like she imagined him to be under that suit. She liked the way her hand felt in his and was almost sad when they had to end the handshake.

One of them, a guy with dark hair and a confident smile, stepped forward. “Ariana,” he greeted smoothly, his eyes narrowing at me. “Who’s your friend?” Ariana nudged me forward. “This is Ruby. She just got her heart broken and needs a distraction.” I glared at her. “Subtle.” The guy chuckled. “That so?” He held out a hand. “I’m Ethan.” I shook it, forcing a smile. “Hi, Ethan.” Ariana leaned in and whispered, “He’s rich. Maybe even richer than Rutherford."

But still unyielding. They sat. The cameras flashed. Ethan leaned into the mic. “My name is Ethan Blackwood. I’m twenty-one years old. I’m gay. I’m in love with a man who raised me but he didn’t raise me as a father. He protected me from the very world now trying to crucify us. And I refuse to apologize for loving someone who has only ever made me feel safe.” The room froze. Then it exploded.