Best Life-Changing Books To Read In Your Lifetime?

My girlfriend, Phoebe Norton, insisted on bringing her best friend along on our trip. What she did not know was that her friend, Shanine Graham, was a shameless flirt. Wearing nothing but a tiny thong beneath her clothes, Shanine kept finding ways to tease and tempt me…

He shouldn’t have imagined her lying naked on his bed. She shouldn’t have imagined his devilishly handsome face between her legs. But it was too late. Kiara began noticing Ethan's washboard abs when he hopped out of the pool, dripping wet after swim practice. Ethan began gazing at Kiara’s golden skin in a bikini as a grown woman instead of the girl next door he grew up with. That kiss should have never happened. It was just one moment in a lifetime of moments, but they both felt its power. They knew the thrumming in their veins and desperation in their bodies might give them all they ever wanted or ruin everything if they followed it. Kiara and Ethan knew they should have never kissed. But it's too late to take that choice back, so they have a new one to make. Fall for each other and risk their friendship or try to forget one little kiss that might change everything. PREVIEW: “If you don’t want to kiss me then... let’s swim.” “Yeah, sure.” “Naked.” “What?” “I always wanted to try skinny dipping. And I really want to get out of these clothes.” “What if someone catches you... me, both?” “We will be in the pool, Ethan. And no one can see us from the living room.” I smirked when I said, “Unless you want to watch me while I swim, you can stay here.” His eyes darkened, and he looked away, probably thinking the same when I noticed red blush creeping up his neck and making his ears and cheeks flush. Cute. “Come on, Ethan. Don’t be a chicken...” “Fine.” His voice was rough when he said, “Remove that sweater first.”

My husband's childhood friend says she wants her crystal beads to soak up some of the good luck in our home. Because of that, he scatters the beads on the floor, making me slip and miscarry. I'm in agony as I lie on the operating table. I call my husband incessantly, but all he does is block my number. I lie in the hospital ward after the operation. I see my husband's childhood friend's social media update—a photo of him worshipfully holding out a certificate while getting down on one knee. It's captioned, "He loves me so much! I said I'm interested in running a business and he actually set up a company for me!" On the day of the branch company's grand opening, my husband's childhood friend wears an expensive custom-made gown. Meanwhile, I wear her discarded goods. I'm barred from even entering the building. I suppress my bitterness and call my lawyer. "Are the divorce procedures done?"

From as far back as I can remember, I knew my mom hated me. She gives me sleeping pills when I'm three. When I'm five, she tries pesticide instead. But I'm hard to get rid of. By the time I'm seven, I've already learned how to fight back. If she refuses to give me food, I flip the table so no one can eat either. If she beats me up until I'm on the ground, writhing in pain, I go after her beloved son the same way, leaving him bruised and bawling. That's how we stay locked in battle until I turn 12. Everything changes when my youngest sister is born. I'm clumsily trying to help with her wet diaper when Mom suddenly shoves me against the wall. The look in her eyes holds both disgust and fear. "What were you trying to do to my daughter? I knew it. You take after that monster of a father. Why didn't you just die with him?" I hold my aching head. For the first time, I don't fight back. I believe she's right. My existence is a mistake. I should never have been alive.

I wish that night had never happened, the night I died and was resurrected by a vampire, life to me never made sense and I always wondered what happens after death. I didn't think my question was answered so soon, but now I ask you: What is the price of death? I found out the hard way that the price of death is life, my life that now belongs to him!

My boyfriend's "best female friend" was angry again. Why? Because for our five-year anniversary, he got a gift just for me—and forgot about hers. Simone Baker threw a complete fit, sobbing and making a huge scene. Scott Tanner immediately blocked me and removed me on Instagram, then changed our matching couple profile pictures. "Girls can be so dramatic," he said. "Once I've calmed her down, we'll switch them back." I reminded him, "That makes a hundred times now." He just smiled and gave me a quick kiss. "I know. I'll make it fast this time." That night, Simone posted a status update: [Your effort was acceptable. You get three days of freedom.] Almost immediately, Scott unblocked me. [Okay, babe. We can put our couple pictures back now.] But then a male account—using my half of the matching photo—sent him a friend request, followed by a single question mark. [Since when are couple photos a group project?]