Fishin' Floozy
14 Published Stories
Fishin' Floozy's Books and Stories
The Secret Heiress Returns: Ruining My Cheating Husband
Modern I stood in the middle of the gala I had spent months curating, waiting for the perfect moment to tell my husband, Gabe, that he was going to be a father.
Instead, I watched him place a possessive hand on the stomach of my best friend, Harper. A reporter nearby whispered the truth that stopped my heart: Harper was pregnant with Gabe’s child, and they were announcing it after the IPO.
When I confronted him, Gabe didn't apologize. He looked at me with cold calculation and told me a scandal would ruin the company. Then came the ultimatum that shattered my soul. He wanted me to hide in the countryside, give birth in secret, and hand my baby over to his mistress to raise.
"Don't be selfish," he said. "She needs this baby more than you do."
When I refused, his mother had me dragged away and locked in my bedroom. My windows were sealed, and my own parents sold me out, releasing a statement that I had suffered a mental breakdown. I was trapped, starving, and waiting for them to induce labor so they could steal my child.
But they made one fatal mistake. To keep me "calm," Gabe handed me my phone for five minutes.
I didn't call the police; the Sullivans owned them. I dialed a number I had found in my adoption papers years ago. A number belonging to Anthony Dean, the most dangerous man on the East Coast.
"They are going to kill my baby," I whispered into the receiver.
The voice on the other end was low, terrifying, and promised absolute violence.
"I'm coming." A Dead Lover's Lingering Shadow
Modern I was strapped to a bomb, pregnant and terrified, using my last moments to call the man I loved.
But Arthur didn't send help; he hung up on me because his foster sister, Ivy, was "scared of a noise" outside her apartment.
Ten minutes later, the explosion erased me and our unborn child from existence.
My spirit didn't cross over.
I was cursed to remain as a ghost, tethered to Arthur.
I watched him block my number, convinced my silence was just a "jealous stunt."
I watched him ignore my missing person report until he stood over my charred remains in the morgue, clutching the locket he gave me.
His grief was agonizing, but the truth was worse.
A year later, during a staged kidnapping meant to win him back, Ivy slipped up.
She admitted she had orchestrated my murder to keep him for herself.
As Arthur looked at her with pure hatred, the bond holding me to him finally snapped.
But I didn't leave.
A dark, cold force pulled me toward Ivy instead.
My pain is over, but her nightmare is just beginning. I Dumped my Fiancé at the Wedding
Modern Jake, my boyfriend, became infatuated with Elsie, the girl he sponsored.
In the end, the period where relationships often face challenges after several years caught up with us; we weren't spared.
On the day everything was laid out, I remained unusually calm. After a stalemate, Jake chose me and sent Elsie away.
On the day of our engagement party, rumors spread quickly throughout the community that Elsie fell into the water at the lake.
With eyes red from tears, I held onto Jake as he panicked, "Jake, once you go for her, there's no future for us."
In Jake's eyes, there was unmistakable disgust and blame. "Losing Elsie is like losing my future. Isabel, don't make me hate you."
I froze for a moment as he broke free from my grasp and ran out without looking back.
Gazing at my wedding dress, I chuckled to myself.
Since Jake refused to change his mind, why should I linger in the same place any longer? He Sacrifice Me To Save His Stepsister
Romance The pain shot up from my tailbone. I lay at the bottom of the grand staircase, a warm, sticky wetness spreading beneath me. My baby. My unborn child.
Footsteps thundered down the stairs. Jake, my husband, rushed past me without a glance. He went straight to my stepsister, Brooke, who was slumped against the wall, her face a mask of fake terror. "Brooke! Are you okay? Did she hurt you?" he asked, his voice filled with panic.
He cradled her in his arms, then turned to me, his eyes cold and full of hate. "Ava Riley," he spat, "If I hadn' t lost my memory, there' s no way I would have ever married you." The words hit me harder than the fall. Brooke, nestled in his arms, looked at me with a triumphant smirk. She whispered to Jake about finding property for an art gallery to "heal." He immediately pulled out his phone, without even looking at me, lying in a pool of my own blood.
The next day, Jake used his immense power to condemn my family' s historic art studio. My loving parents, trying to stop the demolition, were crushed and killed by falling debris. The news came to me in the sterile white of a hospital room, after I had already lost my child.
It was all gone. Replaced by a cold, hollow emptiness. When I finally left the Miller mansion, carrying my parents' ashes, Jake' s friends snickered, thinking I' d crawl back. Jake sneered, "It' s just a pity play. She schemed her way into wealth. She' d never leave."
They didn't see the black car waiting for me. They also didn't know my private jet was ready on the skyscraper rooftop. They thought I was a broken, penniless artist. They had no idea who I really was. And they had no idea what I was about to do. His Greed, Her Triumph
Modern My world shattered on a Tuesday afternoon while I was scrolling through a local city forum.
An anonymous post popped up, short and alarming. "Warning to anyone dating a guy who hangs out at the 'Gilded Bean' café downtown. Overheard a man and a woman, 'Liam' and 'Chloe' , plotting something vile. They were talking about drugging his rich girlfriend, staging an 'accident' , and getting her money. He mentioned she' s a tech exec."
Liam. My Liam. My breath caught. We went to the Gilded Bean all the time.
The post described him: "He was wearing a very distinctive watch, a silver one with a dark blue face. Looked expensive." I bought him that watch for our one-year anniversary. A limited edition Zenith Chronomaster. There wasn' t another one like it in the city.
Then the name Chloe sealed it. Chloe Davies. A girl from his past he always claimed to dislike, someone he called "trashy" and "desperate."
My phone slipped from my numb fingers, clattering onto the hardwood floor of the apartment Liam and I shared. The shock was a physical blow. It couldn' t be real. Not Liam.
Every sweet word, every tender touch, the way he looked at me with what I thought was love – it was all a lie. A carefully crafted performance. He wasn' t just planning to steal from me; he was planning to kill me.
The thought of him using my trust to isolate me, making me feel secure while he sharpened the knife, made me sick. The man I loved didn' t exist. He was a monster, and I had invited him into every corner of my life.
I wouldn' t be his victim. Liam Parker thought he was hunting a sheep; he was about to find out he had targeted a lioness. He wasn' t getting away with this. None of them were. Eight Years, A Cruel Joke
Romance For eight years, I clung to Liam' s drunken promise, a joke he' d made at 14 that felt like a sacred vow.
I transformed myself, chasing perfection for him, believing our 22nd birthday was finally our moment.
But then, I overheard him plotting: our "promise" was a cruel lie, a scheme to get rid of me.
He was in love with Sienna, planning a fake engagement and a rented baby to finally drive me away.
My world shattered, reduced to nothing but the echoing laughter of his friends.
Why was I always just an obstacle, a joke in his meticulously crafted life?
I accepted an overseas scholarship, packed my bags, and burned every memory of him, ready to disappear.
He publicly humiliated me, flaunting his engagement to Sienna at a charity gala.
Then, when a planter fell, he shielded her, completely ignoring me as I lay bleeding on the floor.
At my farewell party, he shoved me into a lake, leaving me to drown, just to protect Sienna.
He chose her. Over his best friend. Over my life.
My brother, Mark, came to my rescue, raging at Liam, but it was clear Liam felt no remorse.
He claimed I was "unstable" and "obsessed," twisting every truth to fit his narrative.
I left for New York, cutting all ties, determined to erase him from my life forever.
Years later, Liam, broken and ruined by Sienna and her lover, Julian, desperately sought me out.
He found me, happy and successful, with Alex-a man who truly valued me.
I finally had the strength to tell him his apology meant nothing, that he was no longer my problem.
The man who once dominated my every thought was now a pathetic stranger, utterly unimportant.
I threw away his final, belated confession, a paper airplane of wasted love, into the New York sky.
My journey from a broken girl to a celebrated architect, from chasing a false star to finding my own wings, was complete.
I was finally free, soaring into a future he could never touch. The Gambler's Wife: A Blood Betrayal
Mafia The delivery room was cold, the sterile white walls closing in on me as my newborn son, Leo, fought for every breath down the hall.
Then my husband, Liam, called, his voice a panicked whisper: "Ava, I'm in big trouble. I owe six point sixty-six million dollars to 'The Gambler.' If I don't pay, he'll kill me."
I emptied our savings, sold my father's cherished comic collection, maxed out high-interest loans, and worked myself to the bone for four agonizing years while Leo battled his own health issues.
I even sold my blood, twice a week, because Liam said it was the only thing keeping him alive, that we shared a rare blood type.
Finally, I had the money. But when I delivered the duffel bag of cash, "The Gambler's" henchman told me the price had gone up to sixteen point sixty-six million, showing me video proof of Liam being tortured, screaming in agony.
Then I walked into a lavish VIP room, ready to beg for his life, only to find Liam, unbruised and in an expensive suit, draped around a stunning woman who looked eerily like me.
He wasn't tortured. He was The Gambler.
"The blood wasn't for him, darling," his mistress, Scarlett, purred, "It was for me. I needed a little 'top-up.' You were a walking blood bank."
My sacrifices, my love, my life-all a lie.
He looked at me, a hollowed-out wreck, and called me a failed "evaluation."
Then, he threw a pittance of my own money on the floor: "Now get out. You're not welcome here anymore."
My world shattered. My son was sick, fighting for his life, and my husband didn't just not care, he was the monster who had profited from our agony.
But when he demanded I continue to be his mistress's blood bank, even as Leo lay dying in the hospital, something inside me snapped.
"The blood bank is closed. Permanently," I told him, hanging up the phone.
He sent his thugs to the hospital to take Leo. My son, my dying son, was just another resource to him.
"Mommy?" Leo's tiny voice echoed over the walkie-talkie, Liam's phone still connected to the thugs. "Is... is Daddy there?"
That pure, innocent question, crashing through Liam's carefully constructed lie, was all the opening I needed.
My son was gone, taken by the man who was supposed to protect him.
Now, I would watch Liam's world burn. Our Story, Rebuilt
Romance "No one," I whispered, clutching the phone in my pocket as Liam' s voice cut through the sterile silence of our penthouse. He was no longer the brilliant tech genius I loved, but a monster fueled by grief.
His grip like steel clamps, he snatched my phone, his cruel laugh echoing as he twisted my words: "You lost that right the day you killed Chloe." My sister. His accusation, a daily poison, blamed me for an accident he refused to believe.
He shoved me into the sharp edge of a glass table, then dragged me to our bedroom, once a haven, now a torture chamber. Night after night, his touch was a brutal punishment, a violation I endured, detaching my mind from my humiliating reality.
He whispered into the darkness, "You stood on that balcony and you watched her fall." He had created his own truth, casting me as the villain, ignoring my pleas, deaf to the fact I'd tried to save her.
Months of torment, a gilded cage, and I finally understood: this wasn't just grief. He was being manipulated by a "system," a voice on his phone whispering venom, twisting his obsession.
My father, cold and distant, chose Liam's side, abandoning me to a man determined to make me pay for a crime I didn't commit. Broken and alone, I knew there was only one way out.
I would fake my death. I would escape this living hell and finally be free. My Wife, The Stranger
Modern My mother, Eleanor Vance, was a Broadway legend, but my wife, Chloe, her star pupil and a rising star herself, treated me like an understudy. For two grueling months, Mom was dying, and Chloe, on a "promotional tour" in Europe with her agent, ignored my hundreds of desperate calls and texts.
The night Mom passed, Chloe finally picked up, her voice sharp with annoyance. When I told her Mom was gone, she responded with a cold, disbelieving laugh, accusing me of lying and manipulation, then hung up. I buried my mother alone, while Chloe chose to attend a lavish funeral for her agent' s cat, scoffing at my grief and praising his "strength" in mourning a pet.
The injustice of it all, the sheer audacity of her betrayal, settled in my bones as a heavy, cold weight. Every interaction with her, from her disingenuous attempts at seduction to her hysterical denial when I said I wanted a divorce, clawed at the last vestiges of my sanity. Her casual disregard for my mother's death felt like a final, devastating blow.
Why had she ignored us? How could she be so callous, so utterly devoid of empathy, mourning a cat while my mother' s grave lay fresh? What kind of person pretends their mentor is alive just to avoid confrontation?
I packed a shovel in my car and drove her and her agent to Woodlawn Cemetery. It was time to reveal the brutal truth, to force her to face the reality she' d so gleefully ignored, and to finally take back my shattered life. Ten Million Dollar Trap
Fantasy I' m Ava Moreno, a New York reproductive endocrinologist, secretly known as "The Heirloom Weaver."
Using ancient family methods, I help families conceive, even if the father has passed.
The massive fees fund my curandera grandmother' s foundation, preserving vital traditions.
An encrypted message arrived: Liam Ashford, tech royalty, dead from a boating accident.
Ten million dollars for a posthumous child – enough to secure Abuela' s legacy.
But as I began the ritual, a chilling truth emerged: Liam wasn't dead.
He was in 'Serene Stillness,' a trance only my grandmother taught.
He awoke, revealing his father, brother, and fiancée plotted his murder for the family empire.
I had just resurrected a man the most powerful family in America wanted buried.
The Ashford estate was a deadly trap.
They hadn' t hired me for a ghost; they' d lured me into their twisted game with bait money.
Now, with Liam alive, their monstrous plan: force me to be his surrogate, then eliminate us both.
"You will conceive his child," Harrison Sr. sneered, "then your silence will be ensured."
Despair threatened, but then a spark: Abuela' s "Memory Boxes," holding ancient tools of psychological warfare.
They thought they had us trapped.
They were about to learn what happens when you corner The Heirloom Weaver.
Tonight, we would weave a different kind of legacy. The SAT Trap
Sci-fi Three years ago, my brother Mike vanished on his SAT day. Everyone believed he was gone, but our secret, two-part promise meant he was out there. Today, it was my SAT.
Then, a text from an unknown number: "Don't take the test!" – from Mike. But my "parents" acted wrong, their reflections shifting. Even Mike's best friend, Ethan, seemed corrupted now, his concern turning waxy. All relentlessly pushed me towards the exam.
I fled, only to encounter a "psychiatrist" claiming Mike died by suicide, I had PTSD, and my Mike-texts suddenly vanished. Ethan then appeared, playing the sympathetic friend, subtly guiding me to accept the "truth" and take the SAT.
Was I losing my mind? Had Mike truly left me? My gut, fueled by our unwavering promise, screamed no. Their "proof"-a shoddy deepfake by Ethan-terrifyingly confirmed this elaborate lie, aimed directly at me.
Trapped on a mall rooftop, "Mike's" texts urged me to jump, saying it was the only way to "wake up" from this dream. I sent him our most sacred, obscure question. His precise, impossible answer instantly came. Chilling clarity. I stepped off. I woke up, "recovered" from a coma, Mike and Ethan beside me. But the full promise, the one that prompted my leap, shattered this new "reality," revealing another layer of Ethan' s tech-driven prison. Meeting his gaze, I gripped the steering wheel. Only one final crash remained to break free and find justice. The Discarded Bride's Comeback
Modern Ava, an interior designer, was at her grand wedding rehearsal dinner, just hours from marrying affluent director Ethan.
Suddenly, Ethan's adopted sister, Chloe, collapsed. He abandoned Ava, rushing her away. An hour later, Ethan called: Chloe was pregnant, and the baby was his.
Ethan coldly demanded Ava cancel their wedding, quit her job, and raise his love child. Reeling, Ava returned home to find her grandmother's quilt, among her belongings, dumped outside their shared condo. Inside, Ethan caressed Chloe's belly. Chloe then "accidentally" ruined the quilt. When Ava confronted them, Ethan violently shoved her, causing her to hit her head and bleed, completely ignoring her.
The audacity was sickening. How could he betray her so utterly, demanding she accept his monstrous secret and raise his child? This public humiliation and callous disregard for her physical safety ignited a cold fury. It was her 30th birthday—the exact day a silly childhood pact with best friend Liam was set to expire.
Ava stared at the monster Ethan had become. With unwavering resolve, she walked back to the dinner, dramatically removed her diamond engagement ring, and placed it before Ethan's powerful father, declaring the wedding canceled. This time, she was truly breaking free. Shattered Perfection: A CEO's Downfall
Billionaires My life as Ava Sharma, a successful architect, half of New York's power couple with my CEO husband Liam, seemed perfect.
He always said my "delicate health" was why we were child-free, and I believed him.
But when he suddenly announced he'd "adopted" two kids without me, a subtle shift occurred.
Then, a doctor's visit revealed a horrifying truth: I'd been surgically sterilized years ago, a "minor procedure" Liam had insisted on.
My blood ran cold as I overheard him confessing he’d secretly operated on me and was already securing an heir with a surrogate named Sophia.
Liam brought Sophia, heavily pregnant, into our home, a living monument to his betrayal.
She groomed his children to taunt me, then actively sabotaged me.
When an allergic reaction left me choking for air, Liam abandoned me to die, choosing Sophia.
Later, I saw a video of their secret wedding from six months ago – his family beaming, his wealth being funneled to her and "his" children.
My entire life was a meticulously crafted lie, my body violated, my choices stolen.
How could the man who swore to protect me leave me for dead?
How could my cherished career and loving marriage be built on such monstrous deceit?
The pain was a living entity, clawing and tearing at me.
I was not just betrayed; I was erased, a placeholder.
But that was the moment.
The absolute, unbreachable moment.
There was no going back.
From shattered wife, I transformed into a meticulous strategist.
I saved every piece of evidence, every humiliating video.
My war had begun, and Liam Harrington was about to learn that hell hath no fury like a woman stripped of everything. Reborn, He Still Hated Me
Romance I was Eleanor Baker, the architect who built the Harrington empire from the ground up, designed their iconic skyscrapers, and was destined to marry the heir, James.
Then, on my 65th birthday, James dropped the bomb: he was changing his will, honoring his long-dead first love, Olivia. My life's work, my shares, everything was gone. The betrayal *killed* me.
Only, I opened my eyes in the past. James was there, reborn too, his gaze already holding the cold disgust that would define our future. He still wanted Olivia, who was now alive. So I walked away, giving up everything, only to be ambushed by the press, publicly humiliated, and left bleeding on the street, my heart and my legacy shattered.
How could a lifetime of devotion and building be erased in an instant? Could the man I once loved possibly be so cruel, even in a second chance at life? Was I destined to be nothing more than a discarded architect, overshadowed by a ghost?
But just as I thought it was over, a stranger offered a chance. A visionary project, a new beginning, a path to reclaim my talent and build a future far beyond anything I'd ever imagined. This time, I'm building for myself. You might like
Beneath His Ugly Wife's Mask: Her Revenge Was Her Brilliance
Lukas Difabio Elliana, the unfavored "ugly duckling" of her family, was humiliated by her stepsister, Paige, who everyone admired. Paige, engaged to the CEO Cole, was the perfect woman-until Cole married Elliana on the day of the wedding. Shocked, everyone wondered why he chose the "ugly" woman.
As they waited for her to be cast aside, Elliana stunned everyone by revealing her true identity: a miracle healer, financial mogul, appraisal prodigy, and AI genius.
When her mistreatment became known, Cole revealed Elliana's stunning, makeup-free photo, sending shockwaves through the media. "My wife doesn't need anyone's approval." Marrying Her Was Easy, Losing Her Was Hell
Michael Tretter "Stella once savored Marc's devotion, yet his covert cruelty cut deep. She torched their wedding portrait at his feet while he sent flirty messages to his mistress.
With her chest tight and eyes blazing, Stella delivered a sharp slap.
Then she deleted her identity, signed onto a classified research mission, vanished without a trace, and left him a hidden bombshell.
On launch day she vanished; that same dawn Marc's empire crumbled. All he unearthed was her death certificate, and he shattered.
When they met again, a gala spotlighted Stella beside a tycoon. Marc begged. With a smirk, she said, ""Out of your league, darling." The Humble Ex-wife Is Now A Brilliant Tycoon
Flory Corkery For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted.
Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke.
Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph.
Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!"
With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off."
A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!" The Queen Returns: Pampered By Her Three Powerhouse Brothers
Kleon Samorodnitsky After five years of playing the perfect daughter, Rylie was exposed as a stand-in. Her fiancé bolted, friends scattered, and her adoptive brothers shoved her out, telling her to grovel back to her real family. Done with humiliation, she swore to claw back what was hers. Shock followed: her birth family ruled the town's wealth. Overnight, she became their precious girl. The boardroom brother canceled meetings, the genius brother ditched his lab, the musician brother postponed a tour. As those who spurned her begged forgiveness, Admiral Brad Morgan calmly declared, "She's already taken." Traded Husbands, Tangled Hearts: Can Destiny Be Changed?
Mia Caldwell In their previous lives, Gracie married Theo. Outwardly, they were the perfect academic couple, but privately, she became nothing more than a stepping stone for his ambition, and met a tragic end.
Her younger sister Ellie wed Brayden, only to be abandoned for his true love, left alone and disgraced.
This time, both sisters were reborn. Ellie rushed to marry Theo, chasing the success Gracie once had-unaware she was repeating the same heartbreak.
Gracie instead entered a contract marriage with Brayden. But when danger struck, he defended her fiercely.
Could fate finally rewrite their tragic endings? Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You Can't Afford Me Now
Theodora Birnir The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life.
To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers.
When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance.
Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?"
Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling." 
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