Tragic Hero Synonym

Naomi spent her summer reading books and planning how she will stay invisible so she can finish off her last year of high school drama-free. But all those plans go down the drain when an unexpected Asian family of a widowed mother and her teenage son moves in across the street. Even though Naomi tries to keep her distance from Hero so he doesn't find out about her heart disease, he seems to have taken a liking to her. Naomi's cousin Riley had called dibs on Hero but his interest lies elsewhere so she often blames Naomi for trying to steal Hero. Most of the girls at school fawn over Hero because of his good looks and height which spell problems for Naomi since he keeps hanging around her. The more Naomi tries to stay away from Hero the larger her curiosity grows and even though Hero has secrets of his own to protect from Naomi's prying eyes he can't stop himself from wanting to know more about her. The two try to deny their feelings to try and protect their secrets but jealousy starts to show its face when Josh asks Naomi on a date and Hero hooks up with a random girl at a party in retaliation. Who will break first? And spill their secrets?

JENNY’S VOICEJenny is a traumatized young woman who was held hostage for years.Cole is the rancher who comes to her rescue.But there’s a crime boss who will kill them both if he finds them.HUNTER’S PRIDEHunter is a handsome rancher with a tragic past, determined to hang on to his inheritance.Poppy is spunky young corporate lawyer ready to make her mark in the world.But there’s a sinister plot against them both.ANNA’S HEARTAnna is a rancher with a heartbreaking secret.Angus is Hollywood royalty, poised to take a chance that risks his reputation and his career.Now that they’ve found each other, can he win her heart?Sex scenes/explicit content, Suggest age range 18+The Redheads & Ranchers Series is by Pandora Spocks, an eGlobal Creative Publishing Signed Author.

My newlywed husband forces me, a late-stage liver cancer patient, to drink hard liquor just to please his secretary. When the secretary later stages a setup, pretending to take a knife for him, she loses too much blood. In a panic, he demands that I give her a blood transfusion. I name my price—ten million dollars. He sneers. "Your blood really is worth its weight in gold, huh?" Of course it is. A liver cancer patient's blood doesn't come cheap. Later, when his precious secretary crashes into my car, he mocks me again. "You caused the accident on purpose, didn't you? Stop pretending—you just want more money. Wendy Yaeger, you disgust me." I'm done. All I want now is to get that divorce certificate before I die, but he looks down at me with disdain. "Don't use such pathetic tricks to get my attention. You're not even qualified to negotiate with me." Fine. Once I'm dead, the marriage will end on its own.

At the end of the day, my colleague, Melody Christie, came to find me. She wanted me to cover her night shift. I turned her down because I had commitments after work. That night, she was caught abandoning her shift and she got fired. Melody blamed me for it. Just when I was almost going into labor, she pushed me down the stairs. "Do you know how hard I worked to get this job? If it was not for you, I wouldn't have been fired! If I'm going down, I'm taking you down with me!" I died, and my baby did not survive either. When I opened my eyes once more, I was back to the same day when Melody asked me to cover her shift. Only this time, I knew the truth. Turns out, she had left her shift for a rendezvous with my husband.

My husband, Ethan Parker, brought our daughter on a trip to the countryside with his first love, Mandy Sanchez. Halfway through, he abandoned our little girl and left with Mandy. When our daughter was surrounded by wolves, I could not reach him. By the time I arrived, the car was empty—the only thing left behind was a bloodstained piece of pumpkin pie. As I was dealing with my grief, Ethan finally answered his phone. "We're celebrating Thanksgiving. Why are you ruining the mood?" I internally scoffed at that man's audacity. Well, happy holidays indeed! Let me deliver a bloody pumpkin pie for you to really get into the spirit.

My daughter, Annabelle Turner, was diagnosed with hereditary heart disease. I spent the past five years searching for a compatible heart donor for her. Now, I finally found one. Right before Annabelle is sent into the surgery room, my husband and renowned cardiologist, Gabriel Turner, tearfully makes me a promise. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll make sure Annabelle gets a shot at life again." Yet halfway through the surgery, Gabriel suddenly leaves in a hurry without giving any explanation. I stumble into the surgery room and see Annabelle lying on the operating table, covered in blood. Her chest is cut wide open, laid bare for all to see. Tyler Rotwell, Gabriel's assistant, stammers out, "Dr. Turner said… that Anna can still hold on a little longer, but Ms. Byron's son can't. "Dr. Turner took the heart that was meant for Anna and left…" I immediately break down and repeatedly call Gabriel's number, but Gabriel never answers a single call, not even when Anna's blood has completely dried… While settling my daughter's post-mortem affairs, I happen to see a newly posted update on Gabriel's childhood friend, Suzanne Byron's social media. "Turns out it was just a misdiagnosis," was what the caption read. "In that case, let's give this useless little thing to our good boy Oscar as a treat!" The video attached depicts Suzanne's dog Oscar tearing into the heart that was supposed to be donated to Annabelle. As I turn to look at Annabelle's cold body, the last shred of love I have for Gabriel starts crumbling apart. By the time Gabriel finally remembers Annabelle, whom he left on the operating table, only an empty bedroom and an urn containing her ashes would greet him…

On our third wedding anniversary, I received a cake from my husband. It had the names Clarisse Burke and Antonio Carey written on it, along with Happy Third Anniversary. But I felt like I'd been plunged into ice. That wasn't my name. Clarisse was his secretary. Sure enough, I saw my cake in Clarisse Burke's latest post, labeled Iva Grant and Antonio Carey. [Three years, and someone's already treating me like his wife.] Below, there was a comment. [Delete that post! The cakes got mixed up. Don't let Iva find out.] That was when I realized he had planned every romantic surprise in pairs. Holding my phone, I laughed at his pathetic attempt to cover it up. But I was done. I started planning my exit.

At the annual company party, my boyfriend of three years openly flirted with the beautiful new secretary right in front of everyone. Without hesitation, I kicked him and his family out of my house where they had been freeloading for all this time. Humiliated and angry, he lashed out: "Sarah, this is all because you can't even get pregnant! Three years together and not a single child. If you just accept Amy in our relationship, you can still be the lady of this house!" Later on, his company was investigated for fraud. He ended up in prison, and to top it all off, it turned out the child wasn't even his to begin with.

My daughter has a sudden allergic reaction, and my husband, an expert in these things, is the only one who can save her. I call him at this critical juncture, but his childhood sweetheart is the one who answers. "Clinton is busy. He wants me to tell you not to call him if it's not important." There's no time for me to get mad. I say anxiously, "Tell him to come to the hospital now. Ivy has had an allergic reaction and is waiting for him to save her." Clinton Reeves says impatiently, "Gemma and I are just watching a soccer match. Do you have to joke around with Ivy's life? I'm so disappointed in you." Later, Ivy dies in the hospital, her body covered in rashes. I wipe my tears and call Clinton once more. I say icily, "Let's get a divorce." The first thing I hear is his and Gemma Walken's laughter. After a while, he says, "Sure, but Ivy is mine."

Pitong taon na kaming kasal ni Zackary at sa wakas ay nagkaroon na kami ng unang anak. Ngunit nang makita ang resulta ng pagbubuntis, naghinala siyang hindi kanya ang bata. Dahil sa galit, nagpa-paternity test ako sa kanya. Noong araw na lumabas ang resulta, si Zackary, na dapat ay nasa ospital, ay nagpakita sa aking pintuan. May hawak siyang litrato. Makikita sa litrato na nasa bahay ng kaibigan niya ang underwear ko. Sinipa niya ako ng malakas kaya nawala ang baby ko. Sumigaw siya, "You bitch, ang lakas ng loob mo na lokohin ako. Hindi ako magpapalaki ng anak ng ibang lalaki, alam mo ‘yon. Go to hell!" Nang maglaon ay nalaman niya ang katotohanan at nakiusap sa aking patay na anak na bumalik.