Lohra
2 Published Stories
Lohra's Books and Stories
Wake a Sleeping Tiger
Romance They were created; they weren’t born.
They were trained; they weren’t raised.
They were genetic creations. Human DNA merged with that of the
animal. The perfect soldier, a disposable creature.
They were created to die, often in the most horrible experiments that the
human mind could ever imagine.
Their lives were a horror story from the moment of their births.
Babes that knew no tender care, no sweet lullabies nor a mother’s love.
They cried until hoarse, until they learned no one was coming unless they
required feeding. And many times, they were allowed to go hungry until
they lay weak and in pain.
Only the most basic of service was given to the babes. Creations that
millions, billions of dollars had gone into in more than a century of
scientific experiments and genetic engineering. “Cubs,” they were called,
never “babes,” but they were living beings that, in terms of the cost of their
creation, were nearly priceless.
Yet in the eyes of those who made them, they were worth no more than
the young women who died giving birth to one after another of the creations
implanted in their wombs.
Human and animal. Determined and far stronger in both spirit and body
than the scientists could have ever envisioned.
Despite the cruelties heaped upon their young bodies, the experiments,
the demented training exercises designed to ensure their success in any
mission they were given, many of them survived. The strength of their
hatred, of their hunger for freedom, refused to allow them to pass quietly
from the world they’d been brought into.
Those creations are free now.
They’re triumphing against all efforts to see them back in the labs from
where they came.
Their intelligence is far greater than any could ever comprehend. Their
strength is more primal than any could ever suspect.
And they’re living on the fragile, desperate hope that the world never
learns the secrets they fight to hide. Intense Pleasure
Romance She had to leave.
Summer Calhoun, the woman the world knew as Summer Bartlett, was
smart enough to know that this phase of her life was over. And though she
wasn’t normally one to run, or to give up, even she couldn’t ignore the fact
that she simply couldn’t do this anymore.
Teeth clenched, battling tears and anger, Summer threw an armload of
dresses into one of the suitcases lying open on the bed. Jamming the
material into the leather bag, uncaring of the wrinkles and years of careful
packing habits, she added more, pushing the frothy, girly material from the
sides of the bag and stuffing them in before zipping the back with short,
jerky movements.
She promised herself she wasn’t going to cry.
Tears didn’t help. They had never helped in the past and they damned
sure wouldn’t help now.
Nothing would help but getting away and running from the pain. Like
serrated blades, the memories of the past few days sliced into her, tore at
her.
God, how naïve she had been.
Four years with the CIA, two with various other agencies, and two more
risking her ass in the private sector should have killed any naiveté she might
have possessed long ago. Hell, she was certain it had done just that.
And how very wrong she’d been. So wrong that for eight years she’d
believed an enemy was a friend, and that insults were just a brasher attitude
than those Summer was used to in the South.
And because she’d let herself be fooled, she’d just spent three of the
most hellish days of her life, two of them attending the funeral and burial of
the very woman whose deceit and black heart had nearly destroyed far too
many people Summer loved.
Easing to the padded bench at the bottom of the bed and propping her
face in her hands as she rested her elbows on her knees, she tried to tell
herself it was the price of ignorance. Of not seeing the true nature of the
woman she’d known most of her life.
The woman Summer had killed.
The funeral had been somber, saddening, and subtly beautiful. Cascades
of flowers, over a hundred friends and family mourning. Tears and
heartrending testimonials for a woman no one had known for a traitor and a
murderer.
Summer had remained tearless through the viewings she’d been forced
to attend. She’d watched, listened, and taken her turn at the gleaming
cherrywood casket where she stared into the pretty, silent features of the
woman she’d been forced to kill. A woman who had hated her, whose
jealousy and greed had destroyed so many over the years.
Summer had remained just as silent during the burial, her head lowered,
so much anger burning inside her that keeping it hidden was next to
impossible. However, she had no other choice. Because she’d killed the
woman they were laying to rest. Because it was her bullet, not an enemy’s,
that had slammed into Gia Barrett’s black heart. And God forbid that the
world should learn about the woman’s crimes, crimes that would shame her
way too influential family.
Questions would be asked if Summer and the man Gia had turned her
weapon on hadn’t been there for the partner the world believed was so kind
and warm of spirit.
Money talked, and the Barrett family had plenty of it. Enough to ensure
that the world would never know the true reason their daughter was dead.
She could have refused to be there, Summer knew. She could have found
a quiet place to nurse the wounds gouged inside her heart if it weren’t for
the man Gia was trying to murder when she was killed, and the man he
called his brother.
Esteban Falcone, known as “Falcon,” was the wild, Spanish bad boy
whose pale blue eyes could burn with laughter and fun or turn icy with
danger or disapproval. The partner whom both Summer and Gia had fought
alongside for two years. Playful, sometimes dramatic, always protective and
loyal. So protective, he’d had Summer dragged from the chapel seconds
before security arrived to find Gia’s body sprawled on the floor and Falcon
holding the weapon that had killed her.
His half brother, John Raeg, had arrived with security. The half brother
was nothing like his sibling. Older by only a few weeks, harder, colder, he’d
handled everything and ensured the truth was buried so deep it never saw
the light of day.
The truth that for eight years Gia had betrayed all of them. Friends and
family alike.
Even more, she’d betrayed the friend Summer had sworn to protect years
ago. A vow that had been broken when she’d failed to keep Gia and those
she was helping from nearly destroying Alyssa’s life. You might like
HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)
Viviene Trigger/Content Warning:
This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised.
It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language.
This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire.
*****
"Take off your dress, Meadow."
"Why?"
"Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost."
••••*••••*••••*
Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance.
One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring.
Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel.
He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch.
Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed.
She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge.
But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming.
Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything.
Alaric doesn't share what's his.
Not his company.
Not his wife.
And definitely not his vengeance.
His Twisted Game, My Dangerous Love
Rabbit Vesper's marriage to Julian Sterling was a gilded cage. One morning, she woke naked beside Damon Sterling, Julian's terrifying brother, then found a text: Julian's mistress was pregnant. Her world shattered, but the real nightmare had just begun.
Julian's abuse escalated, gaslighting Vesper, funding his secret life. Damon, a germaphobic billionaire, became her unsettling anchor amidst his chaos.
As "Iris," Vesper exposed Julian's mistress, Serena Sharp, sparking brutal war: poisoned drinks, a broken leg, and the horrifying truth-Julian murdered her parents, trapping Vesper in marriage.
The man she married was a killer. Broken and betrayed, Vesper was caught between monstrous brothers, burning with injustice.
Refusing victimhood, Vesper reclaimed her identity. Fueled by vengeance, she allied with Damon, who vowed to burn his empire for her. Julian faced justice, but matriarch Eleanor's counterattack forced Vesper's choice as a hitman aimed for her. Pregnant and Divorced: I Hid His Heir
Rabbit Vivian clutched her Hermès bag, her doctor's words echoing: "Extremely high-risk pregnancy." She hoped the baby would save her cold marriage, but Julian wasn't in London as his schedule claimed. Instead, a paparazzi photo revealed his early return-with a blonde woman, not his wife, at the private airport exit.
The next morning, Julian served divorce papers, callously ending their "duty" marriage for his ex, Serena. A horrifying contract clause gave him the right to terminate her pregnancy or seize their child. Humiliated, demoted, and forced to fake an ulcer, Vivian watched him parade his affair, openly discarding her while celebrating Serena.
This was a calculated erasure, not heartbreak. He cared only for his image, confirming he would "handle" the baby himself. A primal rage ignited her. "Just us," she whispered to her stomach, vowing to sign the divorce on her terms, keep her secret safe, and walk away from Sterling Corp for good, ready to protect her child alone. After Betrayal, She Claimed Her Empire
Rabbit Serena Vance, an unloved wife, clutched a custom-made red velvet cake to her chest, enduring the cold rain outside an exclusive Upper East Side club. She hoped this small gesture for her husband, Julian, would bridge the growing chasm between them on their third anniversary. But as she neared the VIP suite, her world shattered.
Julian's cold, detached voice sliced through the laughter, revealing he considered her nothing more than a "signature on a piece of paper" for a trust fund, mocking her changed appearance and respecting only another woman, Elena. The indifference in his tone was a physical blow, a brutal severance, not heartbreak.
She gently placed the forgotten cake on the floor, leaving her wedding ring and a diamond necklace as she prepared to abandon a marriage built on lies. Her old life, once a prison of quiet suffering and constant humiliation, now lay in ruins around her.
Three years of trying to be seen, to be loved, were erased by a few cruel words. Why had she clung to a man who saw her as a clause in a will, a "creature," not a wife? The shame and rage hardened her heart, freezing her tears.
Returning to an empty penthouse, she packed a single battered suitcase, leaving behind every symbol of her failed marriage. With a burner phone, she dialed a number she hadn't touched in a decade, whispering, "Godfather, I'm ready to come home." My Husband's Blindness, My Sweet Revenge
Rabbit The roasted lamb was cold, a reflection of her marriage. On their third anniversary, Evelyn Vance waited alone in her Manhattan penthouse. Then her phone buzzed: Alexander, her husband, had been spotted leaving the hospital, holding his childhood sweetheart Scarlett Sharp's hand.
Alexander arrived hours later, dismissing Evelyn's quiet complaint with a cold reminder: she was Mrs. Vance, not a victim. Her mother's demands reinforced this role, making Evelyn, a brilliant mind, feel like a ghost. A dangerous indifference replaced betrayal. The debt was paid; now, it was her turn.
She drafted a divorce settlement, waiving everything. As Alexander's tender voice drifted from his study, speaking to Scarlett, Evelyn placed her wedding ring on his pillow, moved to the guest suite, and locked the door. The dull wife was gone; the Oracle was back. His Contract Bride, The Real Heiress
Rabbit I stepped from the taxi onto Manhattan's pristine curb, a naive farm girl from Montana. My mission: marry billionaire Julian Sterling for a contract. But my welcome was a trap; that night, I found myself in his bed, a drugged, vulnerable man clinging to me.
The Sterling penthouse became a gauntlet. Julian's mother and stepsister relentlessly tried to undermine my "charity case" facade, insulting, sabotaging, and humiliating me, making my true mission perilous.
Victoria tossed money into my breakfast. Stella set impossible tasks. Julian's friend, Vanessa, bribed me to leave and shamed me at a gala. Julian, cold and suspicious, demanded I "play the fool."
Each cruel prank fueled a quiet fury. It was infuriating to be dismissed, knowing secrets I held. Julian's unexpected vulnerability and my grandfather's mysterious will sparked deeper questions.
But I fought back. I shredded Vanessa's bribe, tamed a pop star, and outwitted Stella's sabotage, proving competence. Julian's disdain shifted to respect. This was now a battle for my inheritance, identity, and hidden truths. I Signed the Divorce, He Lost Everything
Rabbit My wealthy husband, Nathaniel, stormed in, demanding a divorce to be with his "dying" first love, Julia. He expected tears, pleas, even hysteria. Instead, I calmly reached for a pen, ready to sign away our life for a fortune.
For two years, I played the devoted wife in our sterile penthouse. That night, Nathaniel shattered the facade, tossing divorce papers. "Julia's back," he stated, "she needs me."
He expected me to crumble. But my calm "Okay" shocked him. I coolly demanded his penthouse, shares, and a doubled stipend, letting him believe I was a greedy gold digger. He watched, disgusted, convinced I was a monster.
He couldn't fathom my indifference or ruthless demands. He saw avarice, not a carefully constructed facade. His betrayal had awakened something far more dangerous.
The second the door closed, the dutiful wife vanished. I retrieved a burner phone and a Glock, ready to expose the elaborate lie he and Julia had built. Abandoned Wife, Billionaire Revenge
Rabbit My husband promised me forever, but gave me endless lies. On our anniversary, I found his secrets on social media, exposed by his mistress. He didn't just break my heart; he broke my entire world.
Seraphina sat alone in her opulent mansion, preparing their anniversary dinner, feeling the suffocating weight of her cold, hollow marriage.
An Instagram post from Tiffany Sloan then brazenly revealed Harrison's hand at a romantic dinner, shattering his flimsy excuses and exposing his blatant infidelity.
The betrayal turned Seraphina's despair into cold resolve. He gaslighted her, dismissed her pain, and reminded her she was "nothing." He chose his mistress over her dying brother, caused her to break an ankle, and finally abandoned her on a desolate street corner, stripped of dignity.
How could she have sacrificed her entire violin career for a man who so casually discarded her? Under that bridge, her foolish love died, leaving only a fierce desire for reclamation.
Shivering and alone, a faded flyer for a violin teacher caught her eye. It was a defiant whisper of her old self, a promise: Seraphina Vanderbilt was gone, and a new Seraphina was finally free.