Jojo From Horton Hears A Who Novels & Stories

I'm the true heir to an affluent family who got switched at birth. But when I'm reunited with my family, they suddenly announce their bankruptcy. The sprawling mansion is repossessed, leaving me, my wife, and my parents to sleep on the streets. My parents are so furious that they end up getting admitted to the hospital—one gets a stroke, and the other passes away. My wife gets her legs broken by one of the creditors, and my son is so frightened that he becomes mentally impaired. To bear the astronomical medical bill, I work countless part-time jobs and put myself through the wringer. Everything changes when, one day, I accept a job as a temporary driver. I go to a lavish hotel's banquet hall. A celebration for a gold wedding is being held there, and I see my late mother and paralyzed father sharing a kiss onstage. My crippled wife is dancing offstage as she enjoys the festivities. Meanwhile, my son speaks fluently in a foreign language as he speaks with a foreign child.

"I'm a dominatrix, Harry. I need control! In business, in life, in my home... in sex." She looked at him, who now had his eyes fixed on her. It wasn't that he had become less shy or more comfortable, he simply continued to follow orders, without even understanding why he was doing it. "But the club tired me... the submissive guys at the club tired me." She returned to the sofa, then moved much closer to him, bringing their knees together, and took a firm hold of his chin when, for a second, he dared to look away from her. "So I really wanted to try something new, Harry." Kath took a deep breath and said a few words that would have the power to radically change two stories. "I want YOU to agree to be my new submissive."

Today was supposed to be my marking ceremony. Instead, it became my funeral. Eliza had run me down with her car. She dragged my broken body into the storage room. "Stay here. When the ceremony is over, I'll let you out." She wanted to take my place, to be marked by Greyson, as his Luna. Greyson loved me. But his family could never allow their precious Alpha son to marry a lowborn Omega. "Millie," murmured, his voice thick with guilt. "I have to obey my family and give them an heir first -- with Eliza. You know... she's Alpha blood. "Once the pup turns one, I'll marry you." And I marked the days one by one, counting down to our forever. He claimed it was a mere duty, but but their feverish nights suggested she was his preferred addiction. A month later, Eliza was pregnant. Ten months after that, she bore the Alpha's heir. Another twelve agonizing months dragged by, and finally, it was the day he was supposed to claim me. But now, I was lying here on the floor, my body shattered. Greyson's voice cut through the phone, sharp and impatient. "Why aren't you here yet? Haven't you been desperate to marry me?" "I've let the pup's birthday incident slide -- are you still going to sulk about it?" "If you don't show up, I'll mark Eliza instead." I wasn’t coming, Greyson. I couldn’t -- I was already dead. But he believed I was simply having a tantrum.

On the day that was supposed to be my wedding—the bride wasn’t me. The ceremony I’d waited for five years for turned into a joke when Valentina, my sister, walked down the marble aisle in a white wedding dress. Her arm was linked with Luca’s — the man who was supposed to be waiting for me at the altar. “I’m sorry, Bianca,” she said softly. “But you are no longer the bride today.” Then she touched her stomach, eyes gleaming with triumph. “I’m pregnant with Don Romano’s child.” Her words detonated inside my skull, and the whole world went silent. As if afraid I wouldn’t believe her, she lifted something glossy up towards the light. A black-and-white ultrasound image. It read clearly: Gestational age — 12 weeks. My eyes burned, tears stinging as I turned to Luca, desperately searching for anything—a denial, an explanation, regret. Instead, he only sighed, weary and resigned. “Bianca, I’m sorry.” he said helplessly. “Valentina doesn’t have much time left. This wedding… it was her last wish.” “I’ll make it up to you,” he added. “We can have another wedding later.” My father, Moretti, stood behind him, wearing the same stern expression he’d worn my entire life. I have never seen him smile at me, not even once. “Bianca,” he said sharply, “Your sister is dying. Let her have this.” My brother nodded without saying a single word, as if that was enough to be a solid answer. All my life, they had chosen her—her tears, her whims, her needs—over mine. Today was no different. Something inside me quietly cracked. Fine. If no one in this family cares about me, I’ll leave.

"Mommy, Mommy! Look at that mister! Will I be as handsome as him when I grow up?" Liam's question forced me to look at where his finger pointed. "Holy f—" I cut myself off, trying not to curse in front of my son. Why, why, why did I have to run into Alexander Ravenford as soon as I walked out of the airport?! Among the millions of people living in New York, I surely didn't want to meet one—Liam's biological father. Five years ago, my scumbag of a boyfriend cheated on me, and I decided to go on a genuinely therapeutic weekend in the Bahamas. I wasn't looking for a rebound, but somehow I ended up spending a decent amount of time having sex with a man who was basically a stranger—a divinely hot, insanely mouthwatering, and ridiculously irresistible Alexander Ravenford. The morning after brought a disappointing hit in the gut, which assured me that for my Prince Charming, I was only a one-time adventure. But screw that, and screw him! I had plans. I was ready to pursue my dreams and study in London. But then fate decided to throw me another curved ball... I was pregnant, and Alex was the only possible father. I didn't give up. I came back as a successful interior designer and the mother of an amazing boy, Liam. I thought that I would be able to avoid Alexander, but it turned out to be almost impossible. But then it got worse… The arrogant, annoying, and even hotter than before CEO of a multibillion-dollar company became friends with my son—his son! And I have a feeling that the sweet little devil who calls me "Mommy" has a mischievous plan to bring his parents together. Should I give this insane relationship a chance?

On my birthday, my mother-in-law had just been wheeled out of surgery, only to be sent straight back into the ER. In a video newly posted by an intern, he was shown holding a scalpel and cutting my mother-in-law open, while the lead surgeon, who was my wife, was nowhere in sight. “Who says interns aren’t qualified to operate? No worries. My Dr. Lover dotes on me.” Colleagues flooded the comment section, saying the couple was sweet and that they were shipping them. I forwarded the video straight to the hospital director. Not long after, my wife called me. Her breath ragged and voice fragmented. “So I forgot your birthday. Is that reason enough for you to go to the director and accuse me of violating hospital rules? “I’m so done with your unreasonable behavior! Even if my mother sides with you this time, I’m still getting a divorce…” She hung up before I could respond. What she didn’t know was that her mother wouldn’t be taking my side anymore. Because the patient who went into massive postoperative hemorrhage and died during resuscitation, under the lead of an intern, was her mother.

Hester is an aspiring musician, floundering through small gigs in London pubs. When an act of kindness makes her a viral sensation, she's swept up under the wing of wealthy superstar Sy Dage. She's finally made it--with one catch. she is actually a high fae of the Seelie Court, taking part in the time-honored tradition of her people to sojourn for a lifetime or so in the mortal plane, experiencing the mortal world and contributing to its arts. And Sy Dage is a fae of the Unseelie. The deep hatreds and tensions between their courts threaten to kill Hester's dreams--and the burgeoning connection, musical and otherwise, between her and Sy. What will she risk for mortal ambition...and for mortal desire? ** Prince from the Other Side is written by Bella Nichols, an EGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

To help her lover win the rally championship, my fiancée, Alanna Johnson, deliberately sabotaged my race car. The vehicle lost control on a curve at nearly two hundred miles per hour, and in utter despair, I called her one last time. Her voice, however, brimmed with impatience. “Stop being dramatic. “This championship means nothing to you, but Jack is about to retire. This is his final chance. “Once this race ends, I’ll cut all ties with him and marry you. All right?” But she never realized that this event had drawn unprecedented global attention. After my death, the in-car surveillance footage would be released to the world. And she would face a judgment far worse than death.

The afternoon my critical condition notice was issued, Silas Stenson popped a bottle of champagne in the lab. On social media, a photo showed him and Wynter Keller standing side by side in the golden sunset, their white coats bathed in light. The caption read only one line—'Ten years—it finally worked.' Everyone said he was devoted, that he'd spent ten sleepless years trying to save me. When the nurse, her eyes red, showed it to me on her phone, I was staring at the wavering lines on the monitor. No one knew that the drug had already been perfected a year ago. And I was the only candidate who wasn't allowed to receive it.

First thing Leah Labelle did after Andrew Fillion's funeral? Ask her husband Ian for a divorce. Why? Because Ian's entire family thought the perfect way to honor his dead brother was to knock up the widow. Naturally. "My parents are threatening to hang themselves or starve, Leah. What was I supposed to do? It's just IVF with Cecilia—we're not even doing anything. Why are you making this a divorce thing?" Leah shut her eyes. Her chest cracked open, and the tears she'd been holding finally broke free. "Ian, we're MARRIED. You seriously don't think this is next-level insane?" Her husband was about to have a baby with someone else. But sure—she was the crazy one.