U.S. Copyright Renewals, 1953 July - December by U.S. Copyright Office
U.S. Copyright Renewals, 1953 July - December by U.S. Copyright Office
Tullar. ? 20Nov26, A961490. R122460,
18Dec53, Lorenz Pub. Co. (PWH)
HYMNAL FOR AMERICAN MANHOOD. 21 selections.
Words by S. J. Duncan-Clark
and others; music by I. H. Meredith
and others. ? 25May26, A899566.
R117578, 17Sep53, Lorenz Pub. Co.
(PCW)
IBA?EZ, LIBERTAD BLASCO-
SEE Blasco-Iba?ez Blasco de Llorca, Libertad.
IBA?EZ, VICENTE BLASCO
SEE Blasco Iba?ez, Vicente.
IBA?EZ BLASCO, MARIO BLASCO-
SEE Blasco-Iba?ez Blasco, Mario.
IBA?EZ BLASCO, SIGFRIDO BLASCO-
SEE Blasco-Iba?ez Blasco, Sigfrido.
IN THE DAYS OF THY YOUTH, CHILDREN'S
DAY SERVICE; words by May M. Brewster,
music by Ira B. Wilson.
? 3Apr26, A895311. R115724, 10Aug53,
Lorenz Pub. Co. (PWH)
INDIANA THREE IN ONE SERVICE. Vol.5,
no. 2, June 1926. ? 15Jul26, A949493.
R119058, 8Oct53, The Bobbs-Merrill
Co., inc. (PWH)
INDIANA THREE IN ONE SERVICE. Vol. 5,
no. 3, Sept. 1926. ? 20Sep26,
A950269. R118339, 28Sep53, The
Bobbs-Merrill Co., inc. (PWH)
INSKEEP, ANNIE DOLMAN.
Teaching dull and retarded children. With an introd. by H. B. Wilson. ? 9Feb26, A883220. R115201, 27Jul53, Annie Dolman Inskeep (A)
IRWIN, INEZ HAYNES.
Maida's little school. Front. by
Eleanor Gottheil. ? 21Aug26,
A901782. R118032, 8Sep53, Inez
Haynes Irwin (A)
IRWIN, LEON P., ed.
Tartarin de Tarascon. R121902. SEE
Daudet, Alphonse.
IVEY, HERBERT DEE.
Getting ahead in the bank. ? 8Apr26,
A890291. R117008, 8Sep53, Herbert
Dee Ivey (A)
IVOI, PAULETTE D'
SEE Hee, Paulette (d'Ivoi) d'
JACKSON, MARGARET WEYMOUTH.
Elizabeth's tower. ? 30Apr26,
A891296. R114083, 29Jun53,
Margaret Weymouth Jackson (A)
Elizabeth's tower. (In Farm life,
Jan.-May 1926) ? 1Jan26, B689699,
22Jan26, B691218, 20Feb26, B693972,
20Mar26, B696056, 16Apr26, B698391.
R114084-114088, 29Jun53, Margaret
Weymouth Jackson (A)
JACKSON, MATTIE.
The rising and setting of the Lone
Star Republic. ? 24Sep26, A958134.
R118321, 6Oct53, Mattie Jackson (A)
JACOBS, ELSIE.
Florrie finds a gentleman, by Elsie Jane Jerard [pseud.] (In Pictorial review, Nov. 1925) ? 30Oct25, B685447. R118662, 9Oct53, Elsie Jacobs, a.k.a. Elsie Jane Jerard (A)
JACOBS, MICHEL.
The art of composition. ? 29Jul26,
A901708. R115447, 31Jul53,
Michel Jacobs (A)
JACOBUS, MELANCTHON W., ed.
A new standard Bible dictionary, edited by Melancthon W. Jacobus [and others] Rev. and enl. ? 30Nov25, A872868. R121405, 27Nov53, Funk & Wagnalls Co. (PWH)
JACOBY, ROSALIE S.
Kaleidoscope poems. ? 15Apr26,
A891911. R121171, 23Nov53,
Rosalie S. Jacoby (A)
JACQUES, AGNES, tr.
Beatrice. R123143. SEE Schnitzler,
Arthur.
JAFFE, BERNARD.
Chemical calculations. ? 5May26,
A901140. R123197, 31Dec53,
Bernard Jaffe (A)
JAMES, GORTON.
Profit sharing and stock ownership for employees, by Gorton James [and others] ? 1Oct26, A950317. R120107, 2Nov53, Henry P. Kendall (A)
JAMES, WILL.
The drifting cowboy. ? 9Oct25,
A869698. R117479, 14Sep53,
Auguste Dufault (NK)
JARRETT, MARY LOUISE (CLINE)
Listen, moon! R117183. SEE
Cline, Leonard.
JEFFERSON, BERNARD L.
Creative prose writing, by Bernard
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For seventeen years, I was the crown jewel of the Kensington empire, the perfect daughter groomed for a royal future. Then, a cream-colored envelope landed in my lap, bearing a gold crest and a truth that turned my world into ice. The DNA test result was a cold, hard zero percent-I wasn't a Kensington. Before the ink could even dry, my parents invited my replacement, a girl named Alleen, into the drawing room and treated me like a trespasser in my own home. My mother, who once hosted galas in my honor, wouldn't even look me in the eye as she stroked Alleen's arm, whispering that she was finally "safe." My father handed me a one-million-dollar check-a mere tip for a billionaire-and told me to leave immediately to avoid tanking the company's stock price. "You're a thief! You lived my life, you spent my money, and you don't get to keep the loot!" Alleen shrieked, trying to claw the designer jacket off my shoulders while my "parents" watched with clinical detachment. I was dumped on a gritty sidewalk in Queens with nothing but three trunks and the address of a struggling laborer I was now supposed to call "Dad." I traded a marble mansion for a crumbling walk-up where the air smelled of exhaust and my new bedroom was a literal storage closet. My biological family thought I was a broken princess, and the Kensingtons thought they had successfully erased me with a payoff and a non-disclosure agreement. They had no idea that while I was hauling trunks up four flights of stairs, my secret media empire was already preparing to move against them. As I sat on a thin mattress in the dark, I opened my encrypted laptop and sent a single command that would cost my former father ten million dollars by breakfast. They thought they were throwing me to the wolves, but they forgot one thing: I'm the one who leads the pack.
Maia grew up a pampered heiress-until the real daughter returned and framed her, sending Maia to prison with help from her fiancé and family. Four years later, free and married to Chris, a notorious outcast, everyone assumed Maia was finished. They soon discovered she was secretly a famed jeweler, elite hacker, celebrity chef, and top game designer. As her former family begged for help, Chris smiled calmly. "Honey, let's go home." Only then did Maia realize her "useless" husband was a legendary tycoon who'd adored her from the start.
Her fiance and her best friend worked together and set her up. She lost everything and died in the street. However, she was reborn. The moment she opened her eyes, her husband was trying to strangle her. Luckily, she survived that. She signed the divorce agreement without hesitation and was ready for her miserable life. To her surprise, her mother in this life left her a great deal of money. She turned the tables and avenged herself. Everything went well in her career and love when her ex-husband came to her.
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.
I had just survived a private jet crash, my body a map of violet bruises and my lungs still burning from the smoke. I woke up in a sterile hospital room, gasping for my husband's name, only to realize I was completely alone. While I was bleeding in a ditch, my husband, Adam, was on the news smiling at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. When I tracked him down at the hospital's VIP wing, I didn't find a grieving husband. I found him tenderly cradling his ex-girlfriend, Casie, in his arms, his face lit with a protective warmth he had never shown me as he carried her into the maternity ward. The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. Adam admitted the affair started on our third anniversary-the night he claimed he was stuck in London for a merger. Back at the manor, his mother had already filled our planned nursery with pink boutique bags for Casie's "little princess." When I demanded a divorce, Adam didn't flinch. He sneered that I was "gutter trash" from a foster home and that I'd be begging on the streets within a week. To trap me, he froze my bank accounts, cancelled my flight, and even called the police to report me for "theft" of company property. I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was a charity case he had plucked from obscurity to manage his life. To the Hortons, I was just a servant who happened to sleep in the master bedroom, a "resilient" woman meant to endure his abuse in silence while the whole world laughed at the joke that was my marriage. Adam thought stripping me of his money would make me crawl back to him. He was wrong. I walked into his executive suite during his biggest deal of the year and poured a mug of sludge over his original ten-million-dollar contracts. Then, right in front of his board and his mistress, I stripped off every designer thread he had ever paid for until I was standing in nothing but my own silk camisole. "You can keep the clothes, Adam. They're as hollow as you are." I grabbed my passport, turned my back on his billions, and walked out of that glass tower barefoot, bleeding, and finally free.
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.
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