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ღ꧁ღ╭⊱ꕥ Maria Isabel Monedero fantasized about being like Shakespeare. She devoted her all life to writing romance tragedy stories. She joined many writing competitions but never won. She almost gives up her spirit, but her bubbly personality doesn’t. Until the day she graduated college. Then, Maria Isabel Monedero, known as Mimo as her pseudo name, joined Story & Life publishing incorporation to work as a creative novelist. She got admitted, and many editors demanded that she be in their lineup. Unfortunately, before she gets to designate a team, she must undergo provision training within six months. Then, finally, the publisher assigns her a personal editor named Jaime Tejedor, who claims to be a hopeless romantic. He dislikes tragedy romance stories, which is Mimo’s best field in writing. He rejected Mimo’s works twice, and she only has the last chance to stick around. If she ever gets rejected again, it’s the edge of her career. For her to evade that… She plots to seduce her editor to approve her work. Will she succeed? Or fall entirely to his charm? ꕥ⊱╮ღ꧂ღ

THEY SAID NO WAY..................... Ashton Cooper and Selena McKenzie hated each other ever since the first day they've met. Selena knew his type of guys only too well, the player type who would woo any kinda girl as long as she was willing. Not that she was a prude but there was a limit to being loose, right? She would teach him a lesson about his "loving and leaving" them attitude, she vowed. The first day Ashton met Selena, the latter was on her high and mighty mode looking down on him. Usually girls fell at his beck and call without any effort on his behalf. Modesty was not his forte but what the hell, you live only once, right? He would teach her a lesson about her "prime and proper" attitude, he vowed. What they hadn't expect was the sparks flying between them...Hell, what now? ..................AND ENDED UP WITH OKAY

There's nothing more shattering than hearing that you're signed off as a collateral to marry in order to clear off your uncle's stupid debts. "So this is it" I pull the hoodie over my head and grab my duffel bag that is already stuffed with all my important stuff that I need for survival. Carefully I jump down my window into the bushes below skillfully. I've done this a lot of times that I've mastered the art of jumping down my window. Today is different though, I'm not coming back here, never! I cannot accept marrying some rich ass junkie. I dust the leaves off my clothe and with feathery steps, I make out of the driveway. A bright headlight of a car points at me making me freeze in my tracks, another car stops and the door of the car opens. There's always only one option, Run!

''Sometimes I sit alone in my room, not because I'm lonely but because I want to. I quite like it but too bad sitting by myself always leads to terrifying, self-destructive thoughts. When I'm about to do something, he calls. He is like my own personal superhero and he doesn't even know it. Now my superhero never calls and there is no one to help me, maybe I should get a new hero. What do you think?'' ''Why don't you be your own hero?'' I didn't want to be my own hero I just wanted my best friend, too bad that's all he'll ever be to me- a friend. Trigger Warning so read at your own risk.

What happens when you get married to a Criminal? Your best friend was a victim of his action. You wanted to call off the wedding but you're hopeless. In other to save your parent's reputation, you had to get married to a Monster. But, for how long would this be?

I’d been married to my husband James for three years. On Valentine’s Day, he gave his stepsister, Mia, one hundred and eighty thousand dollars, along with millions in jewelry. I, on the other hand, received a free bouquet of roses. When I didn’t look thrilled, he accused me of being a gold digger. “Mia never had anyone to care for her growing up. Why are you competing with her? Isn’t being Mrs. Smith enough to feed your vanity?” Furious, I stormed out of the house. When a car lost control and came barreling toward me, he instinctively rushed to protect Mia, who was standing a full ten feet from the road. I was the one who ended up in the hospital. Lying in that bed, I finally gave up. I signed the divorce papers without hesitation. “Giving up the title of Mrs. Smith is the dumbest decision you’ll ever make,” he told me, looking down at me from above before walking away. Seven years later, we met again. He took one glance at my simple dress and laughed out loud. I didn’t bother to respond. I just held my daughter close and waited for her father—the richest man in the city—to arrive.