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
Shielded By The Ruthless Military Boss
Mo Yufei I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing.
During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me.
I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst.
She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side.
"Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house."
I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip.
My heart went completely dead.
So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate.
I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table.
"I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today." Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father
Madel Cerda I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector.
That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world.
The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor.
The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist.
Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch-a titan of industry and my best friend's father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared.
"Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb.
Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen.
"Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back."
I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe. While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her
Katie Oettgen As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole.
I begged him for help, my vision blurring.
But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background.
"Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again."
He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm.
I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube.
Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry.
Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled.
"You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up."
He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research.
I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym.
They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive.
They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity.
I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding.
I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it.
Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house.
The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born. Too Late, Mr. CEO: Watch Me Shine
Nieves Gómez Kayla stood outside the CEO suite, holding a custom suit for her fiancé, Brennon. They had spent seven years building a tech company from a freezing garage into a billion-dollar empire.
But through the cracked door, she heard the breathy laugh of Evelin, the newly hired director. Then came Brennon's low, careless voice.
"The wedding's a PR milestone for the IPO, nothing more."
Kayla's blood turned to ice.
"She's comfortable. Makes sense on paper," Brennon continued. "But you, Evelin. You understand ambition."
The betrayal hit her like a physical blow. She had written the core code that made him a billionaire. She had stayed up until 4 AM debugging while he slept on a futon. Now, he was mocking their relationship to his mistress and handing over her life's work to a woman who couldn't even read a data log.
Seven years of loyalty, reduced to a PR stunt. She didn't cry. Instead, a cold, violent clarity washed over her. Why should she let him keep the crown she forged?
Without a word, she pulled the three-carat diamond off her finger and dropped it into her bag. She walked out of the building, drafted her resignation, and accepted a VP position at his biggest Wall Street rival. It was time to show Brennon what happened when the real genius behind his empire decided to tear it down. One Night With My Billionaire Boss
Nathaniel Stone I woke up on silk sheets that smelled of expensive cedar and cold sandalwood, a world away from my cramped apartment in Brooklyn.
Beside me lay Ezra Gardner-my boss, the billionaire CEO of Gardner Holdings, and the man who could end my career with a snap of his fingers.
He didn't offer an apology for the night before; instead, he looked at me with terrifying clarity and proposed a cold, calculated business arrangement.
"Marriage. It stabilizes the board and solves the PR crisis before it begins."
He dressed me in archival Chanel and sent me home in his Maybach, but my life was already falling apart. My boyfriend, Irving, claimed he had passed out early, yet his location data placed him at my best friend's apartment until three in the morning. When I tried to run, I realized Ezra was already ten steps ahead, tracking my movements and uncovering the secret I'd spent twenty years hiding: my connection to the powerful Senator Grimes.
I was trapped between a CEO who treated me like a line item on a quarterly report and a boyfriend who had been using me while sleeping with my closest friend. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand, wondering why a man like Ezra would walk up forty flights of stairs on a broken leg just to make sure I was safe.
"Showtime, Mrs. Gardner."
Standing on the red carpet in a gown that cost more than my life, I watched my cheating ex-boyfriend's face turn pale as Ezra claimed me in front of the world. I wasn't just an assistant anymore; I was a weapon, and it was time to burn their world down. Pampered By The Cold Mind Reading Tycoon
Hen Bu I woke up from a coma in the hospital, universally condemned as the vicious daughter who pushed the beloved fake heiress, Georgina, down the stairs.
My ruthless billionaire brother, Angelo, stood over my bed with cold eyes, ready to destroy me for hurting his precious sister.
But as I looked at him, a terrifying prophecy from my coma flooded my brain. Our entire family was doomed.
In the original timeline, Georgina would team up with corporate rivals to bankrupt the company, frame Angelo, and send him to federal prison, while our parents would abandon me to die miserably.
Lying there, I didn't dare speak. I just desperately cursed my idiot brother in my head.
"This stupid brother is still yelling at me for that fake heiress. He doesn't even know he's going to be framed and sent to prison next month!"
I just wanted to stay quiet, let them ruin themselves, and run away from this toxic family.
But strangely, Angelo didn't strangle me. Instead, his attitude took a shocking turn.
He abruptly fired the driver plotting to kill him, destroyed the abusive fiancé of a family ally, and publicly humiliated Georgina at a high-society gala.
He even shielded me from our abusive parents, declaring to the world that I was the only sister he would ever protect.
I was completely terrified and confused. Why was the tyrant brother suddenly acting like a protective beast?
It wasn't until he flawlessly crushed a massive corporate attack using the exact financial secrets I had just complained about in my mind that a horrifying realization hit me.
He could hear my inner thoughts! Too Late: The Masked Heiress Returns
Annabell Seto Chloe Beaumont's adopted sister, Victoria, handed her a glass of champagne with a sweet smile right before the violent car crash.
Victoria and Chloe's fiancé, Asher, left her in the freezing rain with broken ribs and a dislocated arm, certain she would die.
When Chloe dragged her bleeding, mud-caked body back to the estate three days later, her family didn't offer a shred of comfort.
Instead, Victoria squeezed out fake tears, claiming Chloe had gone insane.
"Mother! Chloe came back and started saying these crazy things, and then she attacked me!"
Her stepmother slapped her, her brothers called her a disgrace, and her father coldly watched as they accused Chloe of faking her horrific wounds for attention.
They even conspired to marry her off to a dying, reclusive heir just to clear the path for Victoria's grand engagement.
Looking at their disgusted faces, Chloe's usually warm eyes turned to ice.
She finally understood that her own family never cared if she lived or died; they only wanted her out of the way.
But she wasn't the weak, naive girl they thought they had broken.
Using her hidden skills, Chloe meticulously painted a grotesque, permanent-looking burn scar across her cheek.
She picked the lock of her bedroom door and headed straight for Victoria and Asher's lavish engagement party.
If they wanted to treat her like a ruined monster, she would use that mask to tear their perfect, glittering world to shreds. His Unwanted Wife Is A Dying Genius
Little Pink Lace The biopsy report slid across the cold metal desk, stamped with a brutal death sentence: advanced gastric cancer. Aretha had exactly ninety days left to live.
It was her twenty-sixth birthday, but her phone only rang with a furious call from her husband, Anders.
"Do you have any idea how much of a joke you made this family look like today? Post a public apology to Kelli right now."
He had completely forgotten her birthday, only caring that she skipped her adopted sister's yacht party.
When Aretha dragged her failing body back to the family estate, her biological mother slapped her across the face just for looking pale and embarrassing them in front of guests.
Seeing Aretha wasn't submitting to the usual abuse, Kelli deliberately threw herself down the stairs, playing the innocent, depressed victim.
Anders rushed in and shoved Aretha brutally against the wall to protect Kelli, while her biological father delivered his ultimate threat.
"I am freezing your trust fund. Get on your knees and apologize to Kelli right now, or you won't see another dime."
A massive, suffocating sense of absurdity washed over Aretha. She had spent six years lowering her head and begging for their approval, only to be treated like a disposable placeholder. Why should she spend her final days enduring this agonizing torture for people who didn't even care if she breathed?
Aretha wiped the blood from her chin and laughed. She publicly severed all ties with her family, whipped the signed divorce papers directly at Anders's face, and walked out into the freezing storm—ready to fight for her own life. 
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