Johnny Cash Novels & Stories

Clive Hawkins, who had been giving me the cold shoulder, posted on X. [First 100 likes get a breakup cash giveaway.] In no time, it had 99 likes and reposts. I knew he was waiting for me to give in, just like how I begged him to delete it during the ten times we fought before. But this time, I reposted it myself and wrote, [Count me in.] Then, I blocked him on every platform. Three days later, his sister messaged me. [Clive saved you a front row seat. Stop hiding and come back. As long as you show up, he's willing to forgive you.] I glanced at the plane ticket on my desk and replied. [I'm busy.] I really was busy. I’d been admitted to graduate school at Redstone University, and my flight was leaving that night for orientation. From then on, we would be separated by thousands of miles, never to see each other again.

After I was kicked out of the house, my sister, Nicole Thompson, and I met at a nightclub five years later. She was the VIP client who spent millions to celebrate Michael West's, her godbrother's, birthday, while I was the male host in the hype team. We didn't talk to each other the whole time until she saw me chugging two bottles of whiskey for a 500 dollar tip. When she saw my pallid face, she questioned coldly and unhappily, "You'd rather do this disgusting job than come home and apologize? Jack, you really are unbelievable!" I just smiled indifferently and held out my hand to her. "500 bucks. Cash or Venmo?" Times had moved on, and I no longer wished to bring up past grudges. However, the 500 dollars I had just earned was just enough for me to pay the balance due for my cremation urn.

My wife cheated on me—with my cousin. The three of us were headed to sign divorce papers when bam—car crash. Next thing I knew, I was back on the day we got our marriage license. This time, no fights, no drama. We both knew it was over. She ditched me for Jason fast and skipped the country with him. I stayed behind, buried in law books and case files. Five years later, she was famous—thanks to Jason pulling strings. Concerts, cash, fans screaming her name. Me? Still grinding at a law firm, backing folks who needed real legal help. Then came the family reunion. She showed up on Jason's arm, smug and shining, throwing shade like it was sport. But when I mentioned I was settling down with someone else? Her face snapped. "I made one dumb mistake! How DARE you move on?!"

She thought he was a spoiled, cold billionaire. He thought she was just a waitress. Neither of them expected the chaos that would follow. When tough, independent Lena Carter crosses paths with Rafael Blackthorne—an infuriatingly arrogant billionaire known for his playboy reputation—sparks fly, tempers flare… and everything changes. After offering her a job that pulls her into his elite world, Rafael quickly realizes Lena is unlike anyone he’s ever met. She challenges him, grounds him, and sees through the walls he’s built. But behind his wealth and power lies a man scarred by a distant family and buried secrets. And behind her strength, Lena hides a past that refuses to stay buried—especially when a dangerous ex resurfaces, watching from the shadows. As the two fall into a whirlwind of passion, luxury, and vulnerability, they’ll have to decide: will love be enough to protect them from what’s coming? Because in Rafael’s world, trust is currency… And someone’s about to cash it in.

MONTGOMERY LEGACY #1 Trapped in a deal she never made... and a love she never expected. Will she risk being completely claimed? -- Eliana only wanted to make some quick cash to buy her aunt a birthday gift. So when her best friend Mica, falls sick and begs her to take her place at a mysterious meet-up, she reluctantly agrees. After all, how hard could it be to play the role of a date? Simple, right? Wrong. Instead of a harmless gig, she finds herself face-to-face with Xaverion Alaric Montgomery, a ruthless, dangerously alluring man, and expecting a fiancée, not a stand-in. Turns out, Mica wasn't just meeting him for fun, she was supposed to be his contract wife. And now, thanks to one reckless lie, Eliana is tangled in an arrangement she never signed up for. Walking away should be easy. But when Xaverion makes her an offer she can't refuse, will she fight to escape or risk being completely claimed?

The boss's wife, Irene Peters, was insanely hot. She would often just stretch out her soft, stockinged feet and sway them in front of me. I couldn't help myself and snapped a quick photo. Then I ducked into the restroom, staring at it while pleasuring myself. I was halfway through when the door suddenly swung open. Irene stood there, staring at me with her eyes wide. "Wow, how are you that big? And what were you doing, taking pictures of me?" I jumped, scrambling to pull my pants back up. But instead of getting mad, she looked almost amused. "You're done for. I'm telling Fabian." A minute later, my boss, Fabian Peters, showed up. I braced myself, expecting to get chewed out or fired on the spot. Instead, he stuffed a wad of cash into my hand. "My wife hasn't been able to get pregnant," he said. "You're well-built. Help me out."

You’ve heard Hades and Persephone’s love story but you haven’t heard it spun like this. Hades is the future leader of the Russian Mafia. His father is set to name him as his successor; but Hades will need to finish one more task before he can take his position as Kingpin. He needs to destroy the Brutt family; specifically Theodore “Teddy” Brutt, leader of the Milieu, and what better way to destroy a man than by kidnapping his newly beloved’s daughter. Persephone wants to escape her reality. She needs to make cash quick and finds herself auditioning at Chesters, a strip club in the middle of town that’s known to draw in the high rollers. When the owner calls Persephone into his office after her audition she’s expecting a job offer, but instead she finds herself kidnapped by an intoxicating man who’s very presence lights her on fire. Will Persephone be able escape Hades’ clutches or will she find herself burning with desire at his very touch?

On April Fool’s Day, my CEO husband cut out my heart to save his childhood sweetheart's son. After the surgery, he tossed me into a cold rental apartment, where I died in agony. Three days after my death, my five-year-old daughter played in the room as usual. Walking by the sofa, she wrinkled her little nose and mumbled, "Mommy, there's a weird smell in here." She touched my face and murmured, "Mommy, are you pretending to be Snow White? Why are you so pale?" She shook my arm harder and raised her voice, "Mommy, it's my birthday today—get up and blow out the candles!" Confused, she picked up the phone and called her father. “Daddy, did I make Mommy mad? I lit the candles, but no matter how much I call her, she won’t wake up.” On the other end of the call, Patrick Hart’s voice was cold and impatient. “What could possibly be wrong with her? She’s just pretending to be asleep for sympathy. It’s Johnny’s birthday, I’m busy. Don’t bother me! Tell your melodramatic mother to stop playing her little tricks. I don't have time to humor her." My daughter removed the candle from her bun, pinched off a piece of the bun, and fed it to me. "Mommy, I made a secret wish… I really wish you could hold me again, just like before."

I made one promise to my mother. No baby without a ring. Then I got drunk, slept with a stranger who left cash on the nightstand like I was nothing, and woke up pregnant with no name, no number and no way to find him. Pregnant. Jobless. And my only option is marrying a man I already hate on sight. Ivan West is everything I cannot stand. Arrogant, cold, and used to getting exactly what he wants. But he needs a wife and I need a husband and somewhere in between desperation and bad decisions we sign a contract that is supposed to fix everything. One year. Shared penthouse. Fake marriage. Real baby that he agrees to claim as his. Simple. Except nobody stays enemies when they are forced to share a bed every night. Nobody keeps their walls up when life keeps finding new ways to tear them down. And nobody, nobody, walks into a contract marriage with a man like Ivan West and comes out the other side feeling nothing. I came into this with one rule. Do not fall for him. I should have read the fine print.

To afford train tickets home for New Year's Eve, I searched for a part-time job and stumbled into a livestream that was practically throwing money at the chat. A young woman in a silk robe rested her chin on her hand. Behind her, a villa glowed under expensive lighting that reflected off polished marble floors. "Being kept in here is suffocating," she said in a voice that mixed boredom with sweetness. "My sponsor gives me more money than I can spend. Help me out. Take some off my hands." Cash drops flashed across the screen one after another. I tapped as fast as I could, my heart hammering. A few large ones landed in my account. I was close. One more would cover both my ticket and my boyfriend's. The streamer leaned closer to the camera. "He keeps saying my tear mole looks like his girlfriend's," she said, her mouth twisting with disgust. "So unlucky. Of all things, I had to match with some broke girl." My finger slipped. I had a tear mole under my eye in the same spot. The live chat flooded with questions. [How is the sponsor's girlfriend broke?] The streamer gave a short snort and reapplied her lipstick, as if correcting a minor flaw. "He's just messing around. He tricked her into 200,000 dollars in debt. She's so stupid she works multiple jobs to help him pay it off." A chill settled in my chest. My boyfriend also owed 200,000 dollars. She continued, her tone light, "The funniest part? He slept with me for three days. When he left, I asked if he was giving her a taste of honey." She smiled cruelly. "He said all he has to do is claim he's going to work a construction site hauling rebar. The idiot will feel guilty and deliver food all night. So he won't need to please her." Another large cash drop flashed across the screen. The total reached the exact amount I needed. My phone rang. Benjamin's name lit up the display. When I answered, his voice sounded worn down, as if it had scraped against concrete. "Via, we still don't have enough for the tickets," he said. "I hauled rebar and made a little over 40 dollars. I'm heading home now."