Is Doc Severinsen Still Alive Novels & Stories

His fingers slid into my hair, tugging just enough to tilt my head back and expose my throat to him. “We shouldn’t be doing this, Mr. Turner,” I breathed, my voice breaking on a gasp as he found a sensitive spot just beneath my ear and sucked lightly. His growl was low and primal, vibrating through my skin as he pressed his body against mine. I felt every hard line of him, his heat bleeding through my clothes. “Why not?” he murmured, his voice rough with restrained need. I swallowed hard. “You’re… you’re my ex-fiancé’s father.” He paused. For a moment, everything stilled… his breath against my throat, the air between us, even the rain outside seemed to hesitate. Then he lifted his head, and our eyes locked. His were a stormy blue, intense and unwavering. “No one has to know, Catherine,” he said quietly, his voice was like a dark promise wrapped in silk. Then he leaned in with his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “I can be your dirty secret.” A shiver ripped down my spine. His words settled deep in my gut, awakening something dangerous. I bit my lip. Every cell in my body screamed for me to walk away but I didn’t. Instead, I gripped the front of his shirt, pulled him down, and kissed him hard. Desperately. He rumbled low in his chest, kissing me back with equal hunger, his hands roaming my body like he already knew every curve. When he finally broke the kiss, I was breathless. Then he dropped to his knees between my legs, with his eyes darker now. “I’m going to show you the world,” he said. “If you’d let me.”

"I only dated you because I wanted to know how it feels being with a plus size"Tim had said to me, the night he took my innocence,5 year ago. "Tim what are you saying?"I had asked confused. This is the same man who confessed his love for me and entrapped my heart. "Do you think I will ever walk hand in hand with someone three times my size" He had replied bluntly. "You are not serious,are you?"I chuckled sadly , thinking maybe he was pulling my leg. He said nothing and left. But that is nothing compared to this day,it was supposed to be the best day of my life,as Nathan asked me the big question but since he don't know my size we both went to the jewelry store to get a ring. "If you ain't so far maybe the ring would've been your size"Nathan yelled out. I tried not to cry as everyone in the jewelry store fixed their eyes on me. "Sir,we have larger sizes to try"the jewelry store owner suggested. But the problem isn't the ring but me,he is done with me, and will dump me,any slightest chance. This is the fourth time yet I kept falling victim of this false love,now Mr Bruno?,who would've believed Mr Bruno,I maybe fat but not stupid. Beauty, a 24yrs old,a plus size ,low-esteem,timid and self-conscious lady, hated herself for her looks,found herself working in a fashion company,her dream job even though she doesn't fit into the beauty standard,she was the least rated worker. Bullied and bodyshamed even in her past toxic relationships, unintentionally stole the heart of Mr Bruno. Can Mr Bruno be really hers?,or is it another heartbreak story ?

“You’re mad,” I said, staring at him like he had completely lost his mind. A slow smile spread across his face as he stepped closer. “Mad for you.” I almost laughed. “I’m going to get rid of this thing you think you can use to trap me,” I said, my voice calm, steady, and dangerous. “Let’s see how mad for me you are after that.” I turned to leave. “You won’t dare.” That made me stop. Then I smiled. Because he clearly didn’t know me. *** Alexandra Fisher Hale does not lose control. She doesn’t do relationships, she doesn’t do marriage, and she definitely does not do children. To her, emotions are distractions and people are liabilities. Her life is planned, calculated, and completely in her hands… until one moment ruins everything. She faints at her twin brother’s wedding and wakes up to the most ridiculous truth of her life. She’s pregnant. No relationship. No mistake. No explanation. Which begs the question… what is this? The second coming of baby Jesus? Because the last time she checked, that was the only way this made sense. But before she can even figure out how her life turned into a joke, the world already has answers for her. She’s engaged. To a man she hasn’t spoken to in years. A man who is watching her like he has already won. Now her name is everywhere, her reputation is on the line, and every move she makes is being controlled by someone she cannot see yet. But one thing is certain. This is not a coincidence. It’s a trap. And whoever set it… Clearly forgot one thing. Alexandra Fisher Hale does not lose.

I lost a game during the company’s birthday party for me. Lloyd Lane, my girlfriend’s assistant, stated my punishment while smiling. He said, “Woo the general manager of Glazed Light, and you’ll only count as having cleared the punishment after sleeping with her.” Everyone sucked in a sharp breath, as if they had rehearsed it. I said nothing and cast a glance at Naomi York, my girlfriend. Nonchalantly, she sipped at her fruit juice and said coolly, “Lloyd is just kidding. Don’t take it too seriously.” In order to ease the tension, everyone else said, “Lloyd, don’t make things hard for Claude. If you like Miss Clark so much, go and woo her yourself.” In the next second, Naomi had smashed her wine glass on the head of the person who spoke. Suddenly, I laughed. “Sure.”

I stood between both of them masking my son from his gorgeous daddy but my stubborn son cocked his head and gave his dad a very beautiful sunburnt smile. I couldn't help but chuckle my baby is too cute. "Mommy, is this Daddy?" Oh my God! I looked behind us at Jale who was only a few steps away from us. I bet he clearly heard what my son had just asked me. The was he was looking at me with curiousty, I knew he wanted an answer to that question too. Who am I even kidding from his viking gold hair, brown chocolate eyes, his fair skin, to proud attitude. Everything he was was the same thing my boy was. Chase was a true young version of his daddy but I would never let him know that. I crouched down in front of my angel and kissed his forehead before answering his question. My eyes shot up at Jale again who pretended like he was looking at something on his phone yet his phone's screen was blank then. After making sure he had his attention to us, I cupped my baby's cheeks and made him look into my eyes. "No honey, this man is not your daddy but uncle. He is uncle Jale." I could see Jale's face fall from the sides of my face. Suck a jerk! What did he expect that I was going to say Chase is his son. That is something I would never do in my life. I would never let Jale into my son's life. I will never let him know he is my baby's daddy because he doesn't deserve my little boy at all. He doesn't deserve us after all the horrible things he did to me five years ago.

Vivian Cunningham's marriage to her childhood friend Nathan Sadoc was expected to be blissful. Nathan had been her first crush, the handsome and charming stud that every girl desired. However, there was a problem: Nathan never liked her, nor did he want her as his wife. He was in love with a girl, Annika Summers, who had disappeared a year ago, a Cinderella who had run away when the midnight bell rang. He had kept her glass slipper and waited for her return with unwavering love. The only reason he had married Vivian was that he wanted to punish her. He wanted to trap her in this loveless marriage for what she had done to Annika. Or at least, that's what Vivian believed. She thought she would suffer in this marriage and eventually die alone, filled with grievance. However, as the days passed, something began to change between them. She was baffled by his growing possessiveness and desire for her. Everything improved until Annika returned.

I cradled Chloe’s newborn, filled with joy and affection. The baby was not blood of mine, yet as Chloe’s best friend, I would love and protect the little one with everything I had. "Sweet boy," I whispered, gently tapping the tip of his nose. "I'm your godmother. No one would ever hurt you." The hospital room was washed in golden afternoon light. Adrian stood by the window in a dark overcoat, his profile sharp against the glass. He looked exactly like the man the whole industry knew: controlled, elegant, untouchable. Hollywood's golden producer. My newlywed husband. Then he said, in a voice as flat as if he were discussing a contract, "He's not your godson. He's my son." For a second, I thought I had misheard him. Maybe I was just exhausted from the wedding, from the endless calls and fittings and congratulations. I almost laughed. But Adrian turned around. A cruel little smile curved his lips. "The child is mine," he said again. My arms tightened around the baby. "The night you got hurt," he went on, "I was with Chloe the whole night. We went through an entire box... apparently this little guy still found a way to arrive." I couldn't move. It felt as if ice water had been poured down my throat. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. After a long silence, I finally managed to whisper, "But... we only registered our marriage yesterday." Adrian walked over and put an arm around my shoulders, almost gently. His tone was soft, but it carried the kind of condescension people used with a child throwing a tantrum. "Don't worry. Chloe and I were never going to get married. If I had wanted to marry her, I would have done it years ago." He paused, and something almost pleased flashed in his eyes. "Didn't Chloe ever tell you? We had a history. I was her first."

The day my little brother had his asthma attack, I poured every drop of his nebulizer medication down the bathroom sink. When Mom burst into the bathroom, the empty bottle was still dripping in my hand. Cradling my gasping brother in her arms, she slapped me across the face so hard that my ears rang. "You're only eight years old! How can you be this evil? Would you finally be happy if he died?" I wanted to tell her that the medicine was not the right one. The bottle smelled like harsh, burning bleach. The new nanny, Sophia, had grabbed the wrong bottle from the cleaning closet. But Mom didn't let me finish. She grabbed my arm, dragged me into the unfinished walk-in closet and locked the door from the outside. "You can come out when you realize your brother's life is more important than your petty jealousy." Outside, Dad was screaming while rushing my brother to the ER. Inside, I mistakenly knocked my foot over a plastic construction bucket and a thick, toxic white liquid began to puddle over my bare feet. I clawed at the door gap with my fingernails, sobbing, begging for Mom. The next morning, the hospital called. They confirmed that my brother's medication was laced with industrial cleaner. That was the exact moment Mom finally remembered that the key to the closet I was locked in was still sitting in her purse…

My husband, David Wright, brought me and my three-month-old son, Leo Wright, to his parents' for the holidays. But while Leo was asleep, my niece, Lana Wright, and her classmates carried him upstairs and threw him down. My baby died right in front of me. I lost my mind. I scooped him up and tried to rush him to the hospital, but it was already too late. He was gone before we ever made it there. Because Lana was still a minor, she barely faced any consequences. The court ordered her family to pay eight hundred thousand dollars in compensation, but my sister-in-law, Ariel Whittaker, wailed and screamed, accusing me of trying to drive them to their deaths. I cried until I felt like my heart had been torn apart. All I wanted was justice. But David and my mother-in-law, Nancy Wright, only scolded me. “Lana is just a child too! Are you really going to destroy her life just because your son died?” I never got my revenge. In the end, grief and hatred hollowed me out. That winter, I died of a heart attack. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the holiday gathering. This time, I immediately called my parents and asked them to take my son away. But even then, my niece still threw a baby from upstairs.

The day the Porter family went bankrupt, my elder sister, who had been engaged to Calvin Porter, claimed she was in love with someone else and cut ties with him without a second thought. I was the one who stepped forward to take her place, becoming the laughingstock of our social circle. I smoothed away all the hardness in him, tried to shape myself into the woman he liked, and swallowed countless moments of bitterness, hoping only to warm his distant heart. Until our wedding day. A car accident happened, and Calvin's first instinct was to shield my sister with his whole body. "Rebecca, don't be scared. Where are you hurt? We'll get you to the hospital right away!" He carried her into the ambulance without so much as glancing back at me. I looked down at the iron rod piercing my chest and felt warm blood gush out. It was only then I understood. He was not indifferent by nature, he was simply indifferent to me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Calvin came to our house carrying the engagement gift.