Rush Marlene Novels & Stories

My art studio caught fire. I risked my life to pull my boyfriend, Vincent Parcelle, out of the flames. Vincent wanted to rush back inside to save his first love, Tammy Reese, who was trapped inside. But I stopped him. The fire destroyed her face and left her legs amputated. Unable to face her disfigurement and disability, Tammy took her own life by overdosing on pills. Afterward, Vincent and I moved forward and got married. On our wedding night, he slit my throat without thinking twice. "If it weren't for you, Tammy wouldn't be dead. Go to hell and pay for your sins!" Only after dying did I realize—Vincent had hated me to the core ever since the fire. For some reason, I was reborn. Grateful that the heavens had given me another chance at life, I ran without looking back this time. To hell with love. I was determined to survive.

My CEO wife, Vivian Lynch, suffers from chronic insomnia and can only fall asleep with the pillow mists I make. At our seventh wedding anniversary dinner, her male best friend, Earl Cain, pours a basin of hot water onto the old cypress tree in the backyard. I rush to save the tree in tears. Earl gets on his knees and apologizes, "I'm sorry, Allen. I did not know that you use this tree's leaves to make the pillow mists." Vivian comforts him gently and orders her men to tie me to the trunk of the tree. She says with a scoff, "If this tree is so precious, then you can spend your life guarding it!" After I hurt my hands from this ordeal, the first thing I do is to demand a divorce. On one night a month later, Vivian, who is unable to sleep, goes to the backyard and sees the withered old cypress tree there.

When Eliza takes a position as a healer in the Red Timber Wolves Pack, she has no idea that she is close to the man who once stole her heart. James, the devoted Alpha, is shocked to see Eliza, the simple country woman who broke his heart three years be-fore. James still loves her, and is shocked to discover that Eliza does not remember him, their engagement…or their passionate love affair.***James thought of jealousy at the persona he had created in her mind . . . A wolf that now commanded Elizabeth’s loyalty even after years of absence.A wolf that, apparently, no longer looked like him.James felt a rush of irrational jealousy for his past self, his self that could act without consequence, that could love his mate without fear.James stopped Elizabeth’s path, turned her to him and pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply.Her Forgotten Mate is created by Hannah Tatum Reading, an EGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

BLURB :This collection drags you into the darkest corners of craving where every touch is betrayal, every orgasm is soaked in guilt, and the more wrong it feels, the wetter they get. Expect savage dominance, brutal dirty talk, sloppy creampies, power exchanges, and deliciously corrupt “good girls” and “curious boys” who discover they were born to be ruined by the one person they can never have. No vanilla. No slow burns. Just raw, addictive descent into depravity. Each story is a complete, multi-chapter filthy ride packed with slow building tension that explodes into merciless fucking, whispered commands in public, hidden hands under tables, and secret rules that turn ordinary days into constant dripping need. These are stories of total surrender: stretched and trained, bratty rebels broken into obedient dumps, and forbidden lovers who risk everything for the rush of being claimed hard and filled deep. Open these pages only if you’re ready to get addicted to the kind of filth you’ll never admit you love.

I was with a fishmonger for seven years. Every night, he pinned me beneath him, reckless and wild. Until one day, he took off his bloodstained apron and came clean–he was getting engaged to Sophia, the Bilotti heiress. Only then did I learn that he was the Don of the Colleo family. “Hahaha! You fooled around with Ms. Mancini for seven years, only to take another delicate young lady’s hand in marriage. Surely, she’s going to come at you.” “Don Colleo, you should keep things sweet with her.” His men’s laughter echoed in my ears. “What’s the rush? I’ve broken her well enough these past seven years. If you don’t mind, you can have her for a couple of days. Evelyn… flexible.” On the day of Vincent’s engagement party, I handed the evidence of his crimes to the police. As the sirens ripped open the city night, someone called out my name. I smiled and leaped from the eighteenth floor.

When my mother-in-law was poisoned and clinging to life, my toxicology knowledge was her only hope. I ended the call and grabbed my coat, ready to rush to the hospital. My husband blocked my path. "Hold on! It's the opening of Ella's haunted castle today. You're bailing to play ghost?" I stared at him, telling him about the dire situation. The poison needed to be neutralized within thirty minutes, or it would be fatal. He rolled his eyes. "Your janitor mom can drop dead for all I care. I'll toss some Monopoly money on her grave if it shuts you up. Don't try to cross me here." His best female friend draped herself over him. "In a hurry to chase some side guy? Girl, your face is longer than Herbert's when he is all revved up. Right, buddy?" Their shamelessness was almost laughable. The kicker? Herbert thought it was my mom dying.

I endured hundreds of injections just to give Stanley Brighton a child. He was moved to tears and held me, promising that even if we couldn't have children, he would love only me. I diligently followed the doctor's advice and underwent treatment. The day I confirmed my pregnancy, I was so excited that I wanted to rush home and share the good news with Stanley. But what awaited me was unimaginable. Stanley and the female tenant we shared the apartment with were lying naked together in the bathroom, sharing an intimate bath. He was behind her, holding her close, his lips incessantly biting at her earlobes. "I'll give you as many children as you want! Ten, eight—whatever it takes! Just divorce her!" "Alright, just give me some time. I'll divorce her for sure!" Hearing their whispered entanglement, I turned away, stepping into the rain, determined to leave. I would disappear to a place where Stanley could never find me, not in this lifetime.

My husband had just ducked into the bathroom when his phone started ringing. I glanced at the screen and saw it was his brother calling. A frown creased my brow, but I answered anyway. "George, why haven't you sent the $10,000 to Mom and Dad this month?" Ross Serrano said. "Mom just asked me about it." I hung up without a word, but a rush of fury surged through me. My husband stood at the bathroom door, his hands still dripping wet. I forced a bitter smile. "You make $8,000 a month, right? $3,000 goes to the mortgage, $2,000 to me, and you pocket $1,000 for yourself. You told me you sent $2,000 to your parents, so how did that magically turn into $10,000?" His lips quivered, his face draining of color. My heart sank, and my hands trembled uncontrollably. We'd been married for five years, and I'd never once laid eyes on his bank card. What other secrets was he keeping from me?

I was born with a genetic disorder. My father left as soon as he found out, and my illness quickly drained all my mother’s savings. To afford my treatment, she moved me from one stranger’s home to another, until she chose to have a child for money. After giving birth to a baby boy and receiving twelve thousand dollars, she was about to leave, but the man asked her to stay. He promised to raise me as his own and cover my medical expenses. She agreed. They married soon after. She told me I would always be the one she loved most. To prove it, she rarely held my brother and almost never smiled at him. Until the day he accidentally swallowed my medicine. As she frantically tried to save him, she broke down and screamed at me, “Why are you still alive?” I watched them rush to the hospital. Then I went back to my room, picked up the scattered pills, and swallowed them all. Mom, I wouldn't be a burden to you anymore.

When Mom and Dad went broke—$30K in debt—they let collectors sell me to Nyamara, a lawless border strip full of trafficking, forced labor, and private prisons. I slept in flooded cells. Ate rotten food. Tried to run. They smashed both my legs with iron rods. I dragged myself home—and walked in on them planning Nina's sweet eighteen. Dad flicked his hand and dropped $3 million on a top-tier jewelry set for her. Mom smiled, then mentioned me. "I heard Talia cries every day, begging to come home. When do we tell her the truth and bring her back?" Dad shook his head, smug. "What's the rush? This is her gift. Let her tough it out one more month. Otherwise, how's she supposed to inherit our billions?" I tightened my grip on the medical report—severe infection in both legs. Mom. Dad. I don't even have a month left.