Tow Mater Lightning Mcqueen Novels & Stories

Dangerous Desires Book Two. The first time I laid eyes on Roman Castillo, there was a charge of electricity that ignited my pulse to surge—like a lightning strike in the night sky, zapping my broken heart to life. He was beguiling, the bearer of the most vivid blue-gray eyes I had ever seen. Everything about him had the ability to make my heart trash against my chest cavity and made me weak on the knees. And for me to feel all these strange feelings at our first meeting was borderline extreme in my book. So I gave him a show, one that he would never forget. I relished the way his eyes darkened, following every intricate movement of my body. Little did I know I was stepping into dangerous territory. An uncharted world where the most primal rule prevails—only the strong survive. I wasn’t ready for him. I wasn’t prepared for the danger of his world. And nothing prepared me for the secrets I’d unravel while falling deeply for him. Because in the world I live in, love is patient; love is kind. But in his world, love is a game with no rules. [Mature Content] Cover by DobolyuV

On our fifth wedding anniversary, my husband cancels a 100-million-dollar business deal to take me on vacation. While we're together, breathless and intimate, I'm about to tell him the news that our IVF finally succeeded when he answers his phone. His Valerian flows, smooth and effortless. "Of course I'm coming to tomorrow's prenatal checkup. That's our baby." "But won't your barren wife get jealous?" The woman on the other end speaks with a sultry lilt. Ethan Shaw traces his tongue along my neck as he responds, "What she doesn't know won't hurt her." My mind went blank, like lightning striking too close. I stuff the pregnancy report back into my pocket without thinking. "Honey, who's that?" Ethan pulls me close by the waist. "Just a business partner in Valeria. Time difference, that's why they're calling now..." I can't process the rest of his words. Ethan doesn't know I understand Valerian. Since he's clearly not excited about our child, I'll make sure this baby grows up without him as a father.

Aria was born under the moon’s blessing gentle, intuitive, carrying a power she never asked for. Clara was forged in lightning fierce, rebellious, and determined to tear down every wall fate built around her. Two girls from opposite worlds. Two powers that should never coexist. Two destinies written by a goddess who broke herself long before they were born. But when an ancient prophecy stirs and the sea begins whispering the goddess’s name, Aria’s quiet strength and Clara’s storming rage collide in ways no one predicted. Their bond becomes something deeper, older something the world isn’t prepared to face. And standing between them is Ares, Alpha of the Lunar Pack, bound by duty, torn by fate, and caught in a connection that defies every rule of the wolf world. He was never meant to choose between them… yet destiny demands a choice no heart should have to make. As the goddess rises to reclaim the pieces of herself she once shattered, Aria and Clara must uncover the truth behind their origins, their bond, and the power that ties them together. Will they rewrite a fate written long before their births or become the final sacrifice in a prophecy designed to consume them?

Everyone knew Elio Carbone, Don of the Carbone family, was a cold-hearted womanizer. He had one rule: never sleep with the same woman twice. But for me, he broke it. The first day after our breakup, he stood outside the old Bianchi estate for a day and a night, his entire security detail in tow, just to win me back. The second day, he flew to Sicily and bought the deed to my family's ancestral estate at auction for triple its value, and had it delivered to me. The third day, he tattooed my favorite flower, the lily, over his heart. The tattoo artist said he refused any anesthetic and didn't make a sound. Later, at a banquet for the Five Families, in front of all the other Dons, he sliced his palm and made a blood oath. He swore loyalty only to Eleonora Bianchi for the rest of his life; if he broke his vow, he would pay with his life. After a year of his relentless pursuit, his devotion finally wore me down, and I agreed to take him back. I truly believed him then. That Elio truly loved me. Until one night. He took me to an underground racetrack to broker a deal with an ally. But in the roaring crowd, I saw a girl, trembling and crying, her clothes in tatters. Ava was shoved to the starting line. She was the wager for the death race. One look was all it took for Elio's face to darken. The next second, he dropped his hand from my waist and, without a word, walked toward the track entrance. I stood frozen, watching his back as he disappeared into the driver's seat of a modified sports car. I used to wake up crying, terrified he would lose his life in one of these reckless races. He had smashed his trophies, burned his marker for the illegal track, and sworn to God he would never again enter such a life-or-death gamble. My hand drifted to my stomach, covering the secret I hadn't yet had the chance to share. His blood oath was broken. And so was I.

In my previous life, everything I do to care for myself somehow ends up benefiting my new housekeeper instead. I apply expensive skincare, yet dark spots and fine lines spread across my face, whereas the 45-year-old housekeeper's face becomes silkier. I jog every morning, yet my body only grows heavier and bulkier, while hers becomes slender and toned. When my husband notices the stretch marks on my abdomen, his face twists with disgust, and he never touches me again. "I genuinely can't bring myself to touch you. How can you look worse than Mirabelle when you take such good care of yourself?" My housekeeper looks at me with a sinister smile. A chill crawls up my spine, and the strange feeling makes me fire her on the spot. Yet, as soon as she leaves, I start aging at lightning speed, entering menopause 20 years early and developing diabetes and high blood pressure. I see every doctor I can, but after hanging on for a week, I die from a stroke. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day she first reports to work. This time, I push away the royal jelly she sets in front of me with a pleasant smile. "I've been avoiding certain foods lately. You can have it instead."

The day the Thorne family announced our engagement, the New York underworld let out a collective sigh of relief. Because I was set to marry Daemon, the most straitlaced Don in the city, which meant I could no longer be the wild rose who tore up the racetrack. But I resisted with every fiber of my being, finding creative ways to test his limits. During his ten-million-dollar card game with a rival family's Capo, my hand "slipped" and sent a bottle of 1945 Romanee-Conti spilling across the ancient map that outlined their territories, sabotaging the entire negotiation. Daemon, however, just slowly and deliberately wiped the wine from the back of his hand. He didn't even frown as he cleaned up my mess. Then I "accidentally" let my spirited Arabian stallion loose in his immaculately manicured courtyard. The beast went wild, trampling his prize-winning rose garden into mud. But he arrived with his private doctor in tow, crouching before me as his long fingers gently traced the scratch on my arm. "Did the beast hurt you?" Just that one question, and my heart melted completely. "Daemon, I can marry you. But before that, has there ever been another woman who owned your heart?" "I don't share my man. Not in any way." He pointed to his heart, his gaze unwavering as he met my eyes. "Before you, this was empty." After we married, the word on the street in New York's circles of power was this: If you angered Don Thorne, his Donna might plead your case. But if you angered the Donna, you were on your own. Even I began to believe that Daemon, that mountain of ice, would eventually melt for me. Until the day I went to find him, clutching a positive pregnancy test, bursting with joy. Only to hear the family's Consigliere ask him, from the top-floor study, what the best lie he'd ever told was. Daemon chuckled and said casually, "She asked me if anyone had my heart before her." "I told her no."

On my first day of work, I found myself face-to-face with the "Reaper", the infamously cold CEO, Silas Vance. I was paralyzed; he was the spitting image of Lucas Thorne, the treacherous ex who bankrupted me and left me for dead in my previous life. "Get out," he commanded, his voice cold. Just as I reached the door knob, a frantic, ecstatic voice erupted inside my head: [Holy crap! Is this my long-lost fiancee? She is a million times more stunning than her pictures! Is she already head-over-heels for me? Quick, I need to say something harsh to maintain my cool persona!] I freeze, the truth hitting me like a lightning bolt. He isn’t my ex. He’s the man my grandfather betrothed me to in childhood, whom I rejected in my previous life before falling prey to a swindler. Silas thought I was here to break off the engagement. Little did he know, I returned from the grave with a secret weapon: I could hear every one of his thoughts. 'Go ahead, Silas. Keep up the cold, untouchable act. With your heart screaming your secrets directly into my brain, I’m going to peel back those layers of yours one by one until you’re completely under my thumb. 'This time, the game is mine.'

******* Have you not heard about the term bro-code If you have ,you must very well know the top most code in the list of bro-codes will always be 'best friend's sisters are off limits.' So let's see how beyond control is falling for your best friend's sister for Liam Fredrick ,your typical college bad boy. ********** Does a sis code exist?? Not sure huh? As much as brothers hate their sister falling for their best friend, it's exactly the opposite when it comes to the sisters, don't you think so?? They would be the happiest to play cupid for their brother and best friend So let's see how Zian Ahmed, the good boy, (compared to his twin 😉) falls head over heels for the very cute, very bubbly and very weird Emma Hart ,his sister's new best friend... ********** And last but not the least Opposites attract, they say. That's physics. But what did we study in chemistry? Like dissolves like.. Isn't it? What would happen when two headstrong egoistic and fiery people collide? Thunderstorms and lightning ought to happen. Let's see how Zahir Ahmed, the bad-boy falls for the sassy, fiery and fiesty Emily! ******* Peep in guys... It's a three in one package *Stand Alone Novel* If you want to read about the triplet's childhood, try "The Sheikh's Unforgettable Wife"

Warning... or Invitation? That choice is yours. This isn’t a fairytale. This isn’t about sweet kisses beneath cherry blossoms or soft smiles under the stars. No. This is raw, This is reckless, This is “Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire” A collection of BL short stories carved from lust, laced with obsession, and kissed by chaos. Each chapter stands on its own, a world where strangers become addictions, roommates cross lines, enemies blur into lovers, and the line between want and need snaps without warning. These men don’t fall in love. They fall into temptation. They crash into each other like lightning against the sea, loud, unforgiving, and beautiful in their destruction. You’ll find no gentle romance here. Only the ache of fingertips brushing where they shouldn't, the weight of glances held too long, the gasp before the plunge. This is for the ones who know love isn’t always tender. That sometimes, the most unforgettable stories are the ones written in bruises and longing. This is for those who crave stories that leave a mark, who don’t flinch when desire gets messy, when hearts bleed a little before they beat as one. Not for the faint-hearted. Not for the clean-handed. This is for the bold, the brave, the ones who dare to touch the flame even if it burns. So turn the page. Step into the fire. But don’t say I didn’t warn you--- Because once the embers catch, they never go out.

Blurb The downpour washed the dark alleys of Ole Keating Village like Jupiter is wrathful towards the small town. Every time the lightning slashes the skies sending frightening thunders everywhere, the little boy’s strides become faster. “You’ve got nowhere to run, boy.” He harshly covered his ears just to get away from the taunting voice. The heavy rain somehow managed to wipe the blood from his body yet the pain unrelenting to grow. He fell on his knees resulting in another painful and ugly scratch to bleed. He looks like a beaten rag. He hasn’t eaten for days and the fearsome encounter he just escapes didn’t guarantee his safety. Even limping, he tried to get on his feet just to stumble and fall on the cold, hard ground again. A loud sound of the honking car filled his ears as the blinding light approaches closer. Surrendering, he lied flat on the ground wishing the pain finally ends. Sounds of boots slapping the water from the road come into his senses but he’s too weak to care. Someone’s checking on him but all that he can think of right now is the girl she left alone in the old warehouse. “S-save her…” he mumbled, tasting blood in his mouth, “Please save her.” The darkness pulled him and he finally gave in.