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Stuart Harley, despite his authorship of many novels, still considered himself a realist. He affected to say that he did not write his books; that he merely transcribed them from life as he saw it, and he insisted always that he saw life as it was.
Stuart Harley, despite his authorship of many novels, still considered himself a realist. He affected to say that he did not write his books; that he merely transcribed them from life as he saw it, and he insisted always that he saw life as it was.
By JOHN KENDRICK BANGS.
The Bicycles, and Three Other Farces. Illustrated. 16mo, Cloth, $1 25.
A House-Boat on the Styx. Illustrated. 16mo, Cloth, $1 25.
Mr. Bonaparte of Corsica. Illustrated. 16mo, Closth, $1 25.
The Idiot. Illustrated. 16mo, Cloth, $1 00.
The Water Ghost, and Others. Illustrated. 16mo, Cloth $1 25.
Coffee and Repartee. Illustrated. 32mo, Cloth, 50 cents.
Three Weeks in Politics. Illustrated. 32 mo, Cloth, 50 cents.
PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK.
Copyright, 1896, by Harper & Brothers.
All rights reserved.
TO
A H. B.
ILLUSTRATIONS
"I LAID THE SCENE AT LAKEWOOD"
Frontispiece
"AM I A MERE MARIONETTE?"
If you prefer your ghost stories to have a stout dose of rollicking wit, add Toppleton's Client to your must-read list. A lawyer moves into a new office and soon discovers it is haunted—and worse yet, the lingering spirit wants to engage the lawyer's services to oust another supernatural being that is squatting, so to speak, in his physical body.
What happens when a brilliant but eccentric tinkerer sets his mind on improving the conditions of mankind through the power of science? John Kendrick Bangs' follow-up to The Idiot details this one-of-a-kind inventor's ideas -- some brilliant, some batty -- in this eminently readable romp.
Having recently passed into what my great-grandson Shem calls my Anecdotage, it has occurred to me that perhaps some of the recollections of a more or less extended existence upon this globular[1] mass of dust and water that we are pleased to call the earth, may prove of interest to posterity, and I have accordingly, at [2]the earnest solicitation of my grandson, Noah, and his sons, Shem, Ham and Japhet, consented to put them into permanent literary form.
Linsey was stood up by her groom to run off with another woman. Furious, she grabbed a random stranger and declared, "Let's get married!" She had acted on impulse, realizing too late that her new husband was the notorious rascal, Collin. The public laughed at her, and even her runaway ex offered to reconcile. But Linsey scoffed at him. "My husband and I are very much in love!" Everyone thought she was delusional. Then Collin was revealed to be the richest man in the world. In front of everyone, he got down on one knee and held up a stunning diamond ring. "I look forward to our forever, honey."
The day my husband, a Mafia Underboss, told me I was genetically unfit to carry his heir, he brought home my replacement—a surrogate with my eyes and a working womb. He called her a "vessel" but paraded her as his mistress, abandoning me while I bled on the floor at a party to protect her and planning their secret future in the villa he once promised me. But in our world, wives don't just walk away—they disappear, and I decided to orchestrate my own vanishing act, leaving him to the ruin he so carefully built for himself.
I received a pornographic video. "Do you like this?" The man speaking in the video is my husband, Mark, whom I haven't seen for several months. He is naked, his shirt and pants scattered on the ground, thrusting forcefully on a woman whose face I can't see, her plump and round breasts bouncing vigorously. I can clearly hear the slapping sounds in the video, mixed with lustful moans and grunts. "Yes, yes, fuck me hard, baby," the woman screams ecstatically in response. "You naughty girl!" Mark stands up and flips her over, slapping her buttocks as he speaks. "Stick your ass up!" The woman giggles, turns around, sways her buttocks, and kneels on the bed. I feel like someone has poured a bucket of ice water on my head. It's bad enough that my husband is having an affair, but what's worse is that the other woman is my own sister, Bella. ************************************************************************************************************************ "I want to get a divorce, Mark," I repeated myself in case he didn't hear me the first time-even though I knew he'd heard me clearly. He stared at me with a frown before answering coldly, "It's not up to you! I'm very busy, don't waste my time with such boring topics, or try to attract my attention!" The last thing I was going to do was argue or bicker with him. "I will have the lawyer send you the divorce agreement," was all I said, as calmly as I could muster. He didn't even say another word after that and just went through the door he'd been standing in front of, slamming it harshly behind him. My eyes lingered on the knob of the door a bit absentmindedly before I pulled the wedding ring off my finger and placed it on the table. I grabbed my suitcase, which I'd already had my things packed in and headed out of the house.
Gabriela learned her boyfriend had been two-timing her and writing her off as a brainless bimbo, so she drowned her heartache in reckless adventure. One sultry blackout night she tumbled into bed with a stranger, then slunk away at dawn, convinced she'd succumbed to a notorious playboy. She prayed she'd never see him again. Yet the man beneath those sheets was actually Wesley, the decisive, ice-cool, unshakeable CEO who signed her paychecks. Assuming her heart was elsewhere, Wesley returned to the office cloaked in calm, but every polite smile masked a dark surge of possessive jealousy.
"GET THIS FAT, SHAPELESS COW OUT OF MY PRESENCE!" I claimed our Alpha as my mate, he insulted and rejected me in front of the whole pack, resisting the mate bond. "GET THIS FAT, SHAPELESS COW OUT OF MY PRESENCE!" He said, and even with his cruel words, my wolf whined and cried out to him. Getting sold later for a few pennies was the worst heartbreak I could ever wish for. But not until I got a second chance at love with the Howling Alphas. Being mated to 2 Alphas isn't a problem. But there are more and they're all fighting for my attention. With war looming amongst the werewolf clan and plentiful revelations from the Moon Goddess, I'm presented as the solution to the ultimate problem, but that would mean even more pain for me. Will my mates choose me over their pack and the entire werewolf clan, even though they have little or no choice in the matter? Yet, with the ongoing chaos, someone is still staking his claim on me. Who is this man?
She was a world-renowned divine doctor, the CEO of a publicly traded company, the most formidable female mercenary, and a top-tier tech genius. Marissa, a titan with a plethora of secret identities, had hidden her true stature to marry a seemingly impoverished young man. However, on the eve of their wedding, her fiance, who was actually the lost heir to a wealthy dynasty, called off the engagement and subjected her to degradation and mockery. Upon the revelation of her concealed identities, her ex-fiance was left stunned and desperately pleaded for her forgiveness. Standing protectively before Marissa, an incredibly influential and fearsome magnate declared, "This is my wife. Who would dare try to claim her?"
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