Marisol Garcia Novels & Stories

When I married mafia don Paul Garcia, I was twenty-two, and he was thirty-two. By day, he was the cold, dangerous king of the underworld. By night, he was my daddy. Everyone in New Haven knew how much he loved me. I casually mentioned I disliked the ballerina competing with me for the principal role. The next day, she “accidentally” broke her leg and never returned to the stage. One night, I craved pasta from a specific restaurant. Without a word, he led his men into the kitchen, pressed a gun to the chef’s head, and forced him to recreate the dish overnight. I once joked about wanting to sleep among the clouds. He turned around, had the building of a rival family blown up, then bought the tallest one in the city and engraved my name on the top floor. However, in bed, he would exhaust me completely and refuse to let me go. Even when the doctor warned that I was in early pregnancy and needed restraint, he ignored my cries, tied my wrists with his tie, and went on until dawn. The next day, I started bleeding. I called him ninety-nine times, yet he rejected every single call. In my panic, I suddenly received a video from my best friend. “Emily, your don is pinning a woman down and kissing her at the bar of the Four Seasons in Moscovia.” When I opened the video, my heart stopped. The man was Paul, and the woman was my aunt. In that case, I’ll give him two gifts when he comes back: an abortion report and a divorce agreement.

When we're in a meeting during an overtime shift, Jazmine Garcia's secretary, Alvin Bauer, whisks a powerbank from her bag, as if it's the most natural thing to do in this world. Jazmine merely glances at him. She opts not to comment anything and just continue the meeting instead. The next morning, I hand over a divorce agreement that I've just printed. Jazmine chucks it into the trash can impatiently. "All this just because Alvin used my powerbank?" I nod for a moment before shaking my head. "It's because he never told you that he wanted to use your powerbank, and yet he took it from your bag in a natural manner. On top of that, you didn't stop him from using your powerbank, too." Jazmine shoots me a nasty glance at my words. Then, she drops her signature onto the divorce agreement before throwing it at my face. "You really have too much free time on your hands! All you do is pay attention to such menial matters and picking fights with me over them! "I've already signed the divorce agreement! I'll have you know that since you have the guts to bring up divorce, you should be ready to suffer from the consequences! I will never go back to you!" Jazmine and I are childhood friends, and our relationship has spanned for more than 20 years. She refuses to believe that I'll give up on our relationship over such a petty matter in such a short time. But the straw that ends up crushing the camel is never the final straw.

*** This story has steamy scenes that are not suitable for minors.*** Isabella 'Izzy' Garcia is a thirty-year-old female werewolf who enjoys her freedom all too much. She is content with her well-balanced life except for that one thing that causes her anxiety every year — the mate-finding ceremony. And being thirty means that she will soon be trapped by the mate bond that all werewolves suffer from. For her, it is nothing but a permanent prison — the only blight in her werewolf existence. When the mate-bond-sentence has been announced, she realizes that she will not only suffer from one mate, but from three mates! And she knew then, that the Moon Goddess must have hated her so much! Miles Bennett is Izzy's friend and confidant, originally a pack outsider who climbed the rank until he became a Beta. On Izzy's thirtieth birthday, he confessed his love for her, only to be rejected on the same day. Landon Hayes is the proud alpha of Izzy's pack. He is a confident alpha who offered Izzy the position of Luna the instant his mate bond with her activated. But like the rest of her mates, his offer was shot down the instant it was uttered. Carter Grayson is Alpha Landon's beta who is flirty and always has an unrequited love for Izzy. He has always been jealous of Miles, but never wanted to be just a friend to her. He is very vocal about his mate bond with Izzy and believes that the Moon Goddess has finally listened to his pleas. And he is very certain that he won't waste the opportunity given to him.

It was only on our first wedding anniversary that I realized the rubbers I bought before our wedding had long expired. No one would believe that my mafia husband, Andre Garcia, and I had never consummated our marriage. That night, I gathered my courage and bought a suggestive nightgown. After downing three glasses of whisky, I hugged Andre tightly and whispered in his ear, "Darling, let's do it today. I want you..." However, Andre shook my hand off indifferently as if he were handling a gun. "Danielle Lawson, do you have no shame? You've done such shameless things time and time again. If you're really that lonely, I'll order you some toys so you can play with them to your heart's content." My face turned deathly pale as I stood there, stunned. I could not understand why a wife begging for her husband's affection was considered 'shameless' behavior. I curled up on the couch, unable to help but ask on social media. Danielle: [My husband has no dysfunction. Why won't he touch me after marriage?] Someone replied: [Perhaps your husband has someone else.] Like a dagger, that comment pierced me awake. I suddenly realized—maybe the problem was not that I was unattractive but rather that he was never mine. The moment I deleted my account, I also made the decision to leave. Who could have imagined that Andre, who would usually not even glance at me, would frantically search for me after I disappeared? "Danielle, I can't get a hard-on after you left!"

"Strip!" Zavier commanded in his thick and husky voice which made a shiver ran down to Innara's spine. "Please don't Ari---" she tried to plead and felt tears burning her eyes but she chose to not to show her weakness to the cruel and emotionless man in front her but Zavier cut off her sentence in the middle. "Now I'll fuck you right against this door so your daughter can know what her momma is doing inside this room." Zavier whispered in her ear lowly bitting at her ear lobe making Innara to whimper in pain and fear. Zavier Garcia, the mafia boss of Mexican mafia is cold, rude and arrogant type of man. He is a man of strict principles. He likes to keep his things to himself because he doesn't have any person for whom he can get possessive and keep them to themselves not live he want someone. He likes to live alone and he is fine with that. Innara, is a less spoken, simple and elegant woman. She is a single mother has a cute and beautiful three years old daughter Aria. Her world revolves around Aria. She has no one in her life except Aria and her best friend Nitya. She doesn't know what's her true identity from where did she come from. She doesn't know who her family is. But what will happen when circumstances will force Innara to beg in front of Zavier to make her his play thing? Will she put her self respect at stake and feed to Zavier's arrogance?

My daughter, Bessie Garcia, had very little self-discipline. The only reason she studied at all was that I constantly pushed her. Three months before the SATs, I could not resist sending a question to myself ten years into the future. “Did Bessie get into an Ivy League school? What kind of job does she have now? Please tell me the last three years of hard work were worth it! How far have Meera and I gotten on our trip around the world? Did we have a second child?” A hopeful smile spread across my face. Then, I saw the man on the other side of the screen. His skin was sallow. He was so thin that he was almost unrecognizable. “An Ivy League school? After graduation, she publicly accused you of controlling and emotionally abusing her for more than ten years. The entire internet branded you a sick, controlling father. Meera divorced you and went on to have a child with her first love. As for you… years of staying up late, putting your life on hold, and constantly supervising Bessie’s studies left you with terminal pancreatic cancer. Your daughter and ex-wife have cut you out of their lives completely. You have only one month left to live.” I was stunned. Just then, Bessie’s voice sounded from her room as she talked to someone online. “My dad? He’s a pathetic control freak. His wife doesn’t love him, so he takes it out on me by trying to control my life. The more he forces me to study, the worse I’ll bomb the exams! Watching him lose his mind in rage is the only satisfaction I get. Once the SATs are over, I’m moving out and cutting him out of my life for good!” Tears splashed against the back of my hand. A moment later, I withdrew her from every SATs prep course and sent her a text. [You don’t have to attend those tutoring classes anymore. From now on, I won’t ask anything of you. It’s your life, so you should get to decide how to live it.]