Hannibal Therapy Novels & Stories

Holly thought she had it all—a decade-long marriage to the love of her life, Michael, a cozy home, and a sense of stability. But when Michael starts pulling away and forming a suspiciously close bond with a charming coworker, Holly feels the familiar pangs of being invisible in her own love story. Determined not to jump to conclusions, she supports Michael through his stress, even as her own insecurities and loneliness deepen. But everything changes during his work trip. Faced with the slow unraveling of her marriage, Holly chooses herself for the first time in years. She throws herself into therapy, fitness, and healing—reconnecting with parts of herself she had long buried. By chance, she meets Finn, a magnetic bartender with a guarded past and a knack for listening. Their late-night conversations turn into something more… something safe, yet electric. Now caught between the ashes of a long-term love and the flicker of something new, Holly must answer the hardest question of all: Can love survive betrayal—or is it time to let go of what once was, to make room for what could be?

After nine years in the army, Asher Fitzgerald returns to Two Bear Meadow—a decorated sniper, a rancher, and the town’s quiet hero. But the war didn’t end when he came home. Haunted by PTSD and the brutal memories of captivity, Asher struggles to live beyond survival. The open fields of Montana mirror his isolation, and the ghosts of his past stalk every quiet night. When Asher falls in love, he falls hard. For a while, he dares to dream again—to build, to belong, to believe. But as despair and nightmares reclaim their hold, he’s forced to face the truth: before he can love anyone, he must first forgive himself. Desperate to heal, Asher finally seeks help, beginning a painful journey through therapy and self-reckoning. Along the way, life takes an unexpected turn—two foster boys enter his care, awakening a fragile new sense of purpose. Asher learns that strength isn’t just about enduring—it’s about choosing to live. The Lansing House is a moving story of redemption, resilience, and the courage to find peace after war. It’s about learning to let go of control, embrace vulnerability, and fight—not for survival, but for happiness.

Two years ago, Marilyn Oxford walked out on the most powerful man in the city after treating him like a disposable escort. That single act of reckless pride wounded Raymond Stewart deeper than any business betrayal ever had.    For Raymond, the $500 note wasn't just insulting. It was a declaration of war from a woman who didn't know who he was. He spent the last 24 months hunting her with the same ruthless focus he uses to crush competitors. He doesn't want love. He wants dominance. He wants to make her beg, to make her take every dollar back, to make her admit that she belongs to him. For Marilyn, that night was survival. It was her ‘F*ck you' to the boyfriend who destroyed her on her 21st birthday. She has spent two years rebuilding herself: top of her class, therapy, career-first, never again letting a man control her pleasure or her future. The last thing she needs is the ghost of her ‘best orgasm’, showing up as her terrifying new boss.

"Just join me for a drink perhaps?" Her bushy brows rose suggestively at me. She knew my answer, she knew what I'd say. I grabbed the bottle off her scrawny hands and said "You know, for a one time thing, this has become a regular." To be honest, I was actually looking forward to meeting up with her. Not that I was going to admit it to her face. "Like therapy sessions from two dumb, ill-favored kids. Who are trying to give each other easing words." She was right. Though her stumbled movements indicated a slight intoxication. Suddenly, out of the awkward moment, she looked up at me with a sad smile and said. "I might be a street girl but is it too bad to wish for a normal life? Go to proms? Have new clothes? Shelter? Love? Do I not deserve?" Her teary eyes searched deep into my soul. I was unaware of the lack of distance between us. When did we get so close with barely an inch barrier? "Flare..." that was all I could say because then all I could feel were soft lips against mine. Her lips! And it felt so nice. Subconsciously, I grabbed her little body and went for another kiss, this time, a deeper kiss.

“I agreed to treat him before I knew I was meant to kill him.” Dr. Cecilia Vale is a therapist, who has spent years learning how to fix broken minds, not destroy them. But when a powerful socialite offers her a job that could rebuild her ruined career and drag her out of a life she can barely survive. She accepts without asking too many questions. Her newest patient is Jude Martinez. A man feared by many, understood by none. Cold, and dangerously perceptive, Jude is not the kind of man who trusts easily. Yet, within the quiet walls of their therapy sessions, he begins to reveal fragments of himself that no one else has ever seen. And Cecilia finds herself drawn in, despite every instinct warning her to stay away. Because behind the smiles, deep conversations, and chemistry-filled banter, they exchange, there is a truth she cannot escape. Jude’s wife did not hire her to help him. She hired her to kill him. With a poison that leaves no trace and a contract she cannot break, Cecilia is forced to choose between her survival and her conscience. But as the lines between duty and desire begin to blur, the man she was meant to destroy becomes the one person she cannot bear to lose. And in a world built on power, betrayal, and blood, love is not just dangerous. It is fatal.

KAIDA Fate has a way of kicking you when you're down. After months of fruitless job hunting, I'm left with one option I'd rather not consider: the Ragnar Brothers. Caspian, Asher, and Kai - they're the embodiment of darkness, with reputations that precede them. Their last housekeeper is still in therapy, for crying out loud! But desperation is a powerful motivator. I'm penniless, famished, and running out of options. Can I really afford to turn down this opportunity? Caspian's gaze locks onto mine, and I sense a primal stirring. He's intrigued, but I'm not sure if it's my blunder or something more that has caught his attention. Right now, my fate hangs precariously in the balance. If they reject me, I'll be condemned to a life of poverty and hardship. However, if they accept me, the risks are equally daunting. Working as a live-in housekeeper for three captivating men is a challenging prospect. As a warm-blooded female, I'm susceptible to pheromones. Nevertheless, I must remind myself that I'm here for the financial compensation. Focus on the job and nothing else! Easier said than done, especially when the brothers appraise me with intense gazes that leave me trembling with desire. My contract spans a year. Can I endure their presence and maintain my resolve or will I succumb to the darkness that surrounds them, forever changing the course of my life?

When I was 17 years old, I got hit in the head by a falling beam just to save Victoria Chandler, who was stuck in a blazing place. Since then, I become a dummy. In order to save up money for my physical therapy, Victoria gives up on pursuing her studies. Instead, she starts taking up all sorts of odd jobs and manual labor. Ten years have passed since then. Victoria is now the youngest businesswoman of Jeronich. Meanwhile, I'm still the dummy who still needs her to help tie my shoelaces and feed me. But later on, Victoria begins going home later at night. There's only disgust in her eyes when she looks at me. One day, I accidentally break the music box her assistant, Mike Tate, has gifted her. That's the first time she loses her temper at me and drags me all the way to the rooftop. Then, she orders me to jump off the 50-floor building. I have no idea why Victoria wants me to do this. All I know is that I'll get rewarded for being a good boy. Since young, I've been terrified of tall heights. But now, I'm even more terrified by the idea of Victoria abandoning me. With a smile on my face, I back away from Victoria slowly. "Please don't be mad at me, Vicky. I'll always obey your orders."

Clay Nikolaidis: I don't know why everyone's so worried about me. I'm happy being single. H-A-P-P-Y, Happy. I don't understand why my twin sister thought her getting married and having my niece and nephew meant I felt left behind. Least of all, to the point that she decided I needed a dog… It’s a joke. She gave me a corgi and said he’s my new wingman. of a wingman, I've been striking out, and worse, just got evicted from my apartment. Now I'm staying at my cousin's place till I find a new one. This dog owes me. Xenia Rosario: I've loved everything about living in the Big Apple. Everything but my apartment seems to be big here. Shoebox apartment aside, I just became the owner of Tinkerbell, a therapy training dropout. Trust me when I say her name is meant to be ironic. She's bigger than me. This is probably how I got dragged through the park, and if I ever find the owner of that tiny dog who scared Tink, I'm giving them a piece of my mind. This is a standalone story but is the fifth book in the Ravenwood series. Book 1 - The Princess of Ravenwood Book 2 - Chasing Kitsune Book 3 - Expect The Unexpected Book 4 - Out Of My League Book 5 - Man's Best Wingman

I used to be a top ballet dancer. The year I was diagnosed with a spinal hemangioma, my boyfriend Julian Blackwood said, "Wherever you go, I go." We'd been together three years. He walked beside me as I went, step by step, from the most luminous dancer on that stage to a woman in a wheelchair. Every time the nerve pain hit and I collapsed, he was the one who lifted me off the floor. Every round of electrostim and acupuncture, he sat in the corridor outside the therapy room and waited for me to come out. Before I got sick, he promised me—the night I finished my final performance of Swan Lake, we'd sign the marriage license. He'd bought tickets for that show three months in advance. I never stood on that stage again. And the marriage license never came up. Until the morning I noticed the collar of his white dress shirt carried a smudge of lipstick that wasn't mine. I heard him on the balcony. A woman's voice on the other end. "Mr. Blackwood, you left your jacket at the hotel last night. I'll bring it over." I stared at that smear of red, and something in me snapped. I laughed. "Send me to Westbrook. The locked-down rehab facility. I don't want to drag you down anymore." Something flickered in his eyes—a brief, animal panic. Then he nodded. He thought I meant rest. He didn't know I'd already signed the papers to donate my body to science. I was going there to die.

The morning was cold and I was currency. My father handed me to Dimitri Volkov, Bratva, like I was a contract clause. I said no at the altar. Loud enough for everyone to hear. The priest kept going. Dimitri didn’t even blink. That was fact one: I was married without consent, in Chicago, to a man who accepted silence as agreement. I left him later. Not in rage. In clarity, after I saw another girl get caught in his world with no choice, just like me. Then I went to war. Law school had taught me precision, so I used it. Civil suits. Asset forfeiture. Anonymous tips to the right agencies. I took apart everything legitimate he’d built, piece by piece, until he bled territories and pride. He showed up bruised once, signed over forty percent of his clean empire to my name, brought therapy receipts. That was fact two: I dismantled the man who caged me, on paper, without firing a shot. I still have the necklace. The one he left in my lap that first night. I wore it through the worst, through the year I rebuilt alone, through every hearing. Last month I was pregnant in a courtroom, arguing a case I won. He was in the gallery. The diamonds sat above my collar. No one asked. I never explained. That was fact three: I took something from that night and made it mine. It doesn’t belong to him anymore. It doesn’t belong to what he did. It belongs to me.