Novelas y relatos de John Lennon Shot

My husband, Garrett Kachmar, vanished overseas with his ex, Linda Sharpe. They left me with one thing—an illegitimate, screaming baby. Twenty years later, I posted that my "son" had passed his exams. He was joining the police force. That's when Garrett came back. With Linda. And a lawsuit. At the plaintiff's table, Linda looked polished—soft makeup, perfect posture. Her voice? Pure control. "After Garrett divorced, we got married and had a big, healthy boy. Jemma couldn't stand seeing us happy, so she stole our son. We searched for twenty years. She refuses to give him back. We're his biological parents. We have the right to take him." Garrett shot me a glare. "Jemma, just because you can't have kids doesn't mean you get to steal mine." The trial was livestreamed. The comments exploded. [Can't have your own kid so you steal one?] [You destroyed a family. Sick.] [Give him back to his real parents!] Then my "son" was called into the courtroom. And the whole room went dead quiet.

“What if I told you I don’t care?” Amelia shot back, her tone sharp and unwavering. Miguel’s lips curved into a sly smile, his eyes gleaming with challenge. “Then I’d say you’re lying to yourself, Mia. Because no one fights this hard unless they feel something.” Amelia Hart’s quiet, predictable life is upended when her mother marries the wealthy Emilio Sanchez, bringing Amelia face-to-face with her new stepbrother, Miguel Angel Sanchez. Wanton, arrogant, and infuriatingly charming, Miguel is everything she detests in a person. But sharing a home—and a school—turns Amelia’s disdain into a fiery rivalry, and their clashes soon spark something neither of them can deny. Torn between her lifelong crush on the handsome, dependable Christian Grammer and the undeniable pull toward Miguel’s dangerous charm, Amelia’s world becomes even more complicated than she imagined. As secrets are exposed and the pressures of their families, the media, and their own hearts collide, Amelia and Miguel must decide whether to risk it all for a love that feels as impossible as it does inevitable. In this passionate enemies-to-lovers story, where love and hate blur at every turn, the greatest risk might just be following their hearts.

I burned my painting right in front of the students and university staff. Thunderous applause filled the hall. Everyone thought it was some kind of performance. But my senior in the graduate program panicked. He rushed forward and grabbed my wrist, his voice tight. “Connor, have you gone mad? This is your only shot to prove yourself!” I shook him off, cold. A chance? That was his chance, right? During my past life, he stole the painting I poured my heart and soul into and entered it in the competition ahead of me. The composition, the colors, even my original technique… He copied all of it. He won the Gold Award for the National Youth Art Competition, signed with a top gallery, and basked in glory. Meanwhile, I was branded a shameless plagiarist. The insults and curses overwhelmed me completely. "Get out of the art scene already!" “A plagiarist like you should just die!” His fans stormed my studio, smashed my tools, and broke my right hand. With my world in ruins, I jumped off the studio roof. Opening my eyes again, I realized I had returned to the day my senior accused me of plagiarism.

I bet you’ve heard the story about the player that gets played. Yes, that’s me, Dylan Ashford. I am in an open relationship with my long-term girlfriend, and when I realize she is only using me for my name, I discover I am in too deep until I meet her, the girl with the brown eyes that make my world spin upside down, and believe I still have a chance of the love I always dreamed of. People see me as a Joker and a Playboy, but deep down, I am a romantic, and I need to find my own true love. Watching my big brother fall in love gave me hope. My name is Joanna Thompson, but my friends know me as Jo. I work in a security firm, and after a traumatic breakup with my ex, I am looking forward to finding my true love, but my head gets turned by the one person I absolutely despise for everything that he represents. Dylan Ashford is everything I always hated in humankind. He is cocky and a player. This book can be read as a Standalone, but for better comprehension, you should read The Big Shot first. This is book number two of The Ashford book series.

Everyone loved my older sister. When the novel I wrote shot to popularity, she got jealous and suddenly proclaimed that she wanted to be a popular author too. My older brother, who was the editor-in-chief, immediately announced that I plagiarized my sister's story at my book signing and she ended up becoming the genius author while I got cyberbullied so much that I was too scared to leave the house. After I got married to a young heir from high society and lived a happy life, my sister told me that she had a crush on him for years and wanted to be his bride at least once in her lifetime. He did not even think twice about divorcing me and holding the wedding of the century with my sister. My family was afraid that I would sabotage their relationship, so they made me leave the country. However, my sister did not think that I was miserable enough. She came for me outside the country and pushed me down the stairs. I was lying in a pool of blood when my mother rebuked me, "Did you say something that made your sister unhappy again?" That was how I died in despair. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day my brother accused me of plagiarism.

His eyes returned to me—slow, assessing. Then, without warning, his hands shot up and clamped around my throat. I gasped, instinctively clawing at his arms. He didn’t move. “Disobey me again,” he said, voice low, stripped of warmth, “and we won’t be counting next time.” Even shaking, I lifted my chin. “Then don’t mistake silence for obedience,” I said hoarsely. Carlino’s voice followed—calm, absolute, as if nothing had happened. “Lock her floor tonight.” That was when it settled. There was no mercy here. No exaggeration. Every word, every threat—he meant them. He wasn’t pretending to be the devil. He simply didn’t bother hiding it. --- She hates him. He refuses to let himself want her. Lina Gray never thought love would betray her. Until the man she trusted, traded her life to pay his debts. Delivered into the hands of Carlino Lacentra, the Mafia king whose name ends conversations. Lina is stripped of choice and crowned Donna to secure a throne she never asked for. In his world, power is law, loyalty is currency, and a woman beside the king is never just a woman.

Grant, the heir to the Bennett family, had been my protector for over a decade. He taught me how to fire my first shot and saved me from every attempt on my life. After someone slipped drugs into Grant's drink at the family gathering, he stumbled into my room, and his icy control shattered. His hands found my waist as he pulled me close, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered my name. A single night of drugged passion left me pregnant with his child. When my twin sister, Claire, found out, she left a note and disappeared, heartbroken. After that, I was cast as the cold-hearted villain who drove her own sister away. Grant personally forced the contraceptive potion down my throat and exiled me to the lawless territories beyond our family's control. To make me atone, he abandoned me to fend for myself in that desolate land. I was eventually killed in the crossfire of a mob war. As I lay dying, my mind was flooded with memories of Grant. The troublemaker he always called me was finally gone. He must have been relieved. When I next opened my eyes, I had returned to the morning after that disastrous night. This time, without hesitation, I drank the contraceptive potion myself.

The day before my engagement to Dean was announced, his childhood sweetheart falsely claimed I had broken her fingers when she was playing the piano. Dean flew into a rage and made me join the medical relief team in Loasia. Now that I was abandoned with just the clothes on my back, I had no choice but to fend for myself. Not long after, I was informed that he was getting married. Everyone bet that I would fly back to steal him away. After all, I had been head over heels in love with him. However, I never appeared even at the end of the wedding. I didn't even call him. I had vanished into thin air. … Five years later... A man, heavily injured from a car crash, arrived at the emergency department. His significant other demanded that he be operated on by the hospital director. I calmly held up my scalpel in the operating theatre, my face hidden behind a surgical mask. "Administer the anesthesia." Before he could be sedated, the man suddenly grabbed my wrist. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he demanded weakly, "Eve, is that you?" I pulled his hand away from mine and shot the anesthetist a look. "The patient is aggravated. Increase the dosage."

"Whose child is this?" His voice was cold and icy, blood shot eyes drilling holes in her watery ones. Scared, she cowered back only for her back to met the wall. A sob of pure horror left her parched throat, her hands lifting up to shield her already bruised face. "I asked," He stepped dangerously closer to her, his hot breath fanning the back of her hands. His sandalwood scent which used to calm her nerves in past, today did nothing other than heightening her fear. "Whose." His rough hands yanked her soft ones from her face, before clasping her jaw tightly, his fingers digging in her bruised skin making her wince. "Child" He whispered deadly, leaning down till his stern lips were brushing over her quivering ones. Tears after tears dripped down her cheeks. "Is in your stomach?" His already tight hold had tightened in bruising manner, making her flinch hard. Her head began to spin in fright, darkness invading her vision. Her heart pleading for some miracle. That wasn't the first question, her husband was supposed to ask her on her wedding night.

The night my husband, William Costello, was assassinated by his enemies was supposed to be a celebration—our wedding anniversary. I was dressed in his favorite red dress, waiting for him, when the phone rang. "Mr. Costello was shot at the harbor. The bullet went through the back of his head. He died on the spot." I collapsed to the floor. I clung to his belongings, mourning for a week straight. We even lost our unborn child during this time. Everyone said William and I were true love. Even the Don himself came to the funeral, resting a heavy hand on my shoulder with a sigh. He said, "All of Blackhaven knows you were the only woman he ever loved." Grief nearly destroyed me. I stood at the river's edge, ready to follow William into the afterlife. However, I overheard my sister-in-law, Emily Hawkins, leaning into my brother-in-law, Jones Costello, her voice dripping with a twisted affection. She purred, "William, I love you so much. Between Nina and me, who do you think is sexier?" "Of course it's you, babe!" came the husky reply. I stood frozen, my eyes wide and my body trembling. Why was Emily calling my brother-in-law by my husband's name?