Who Designed Film Cyborg She For The Original Movie?

(Book 0.5 of Her Wolves series) (Lore) (Can read as stand-alone) (Steamy) Once upon a time, long ago, my family and I fell through a hole in the ground. It had happened during a war I could no longer recall. Trapped us in this new place that none of us wanted to be. Separated us from the people we used to love. This world was different. Divided. The inhabitants were primitive. Their designs all but useless. Thus we took it upon ourselves to help them. To guide them into a better age. I had lost track of how long I have been here. But my heart still yearned for home. No matter our effort, this place would never be it for me. Could never compare to the love I had for Gerovit. My husband. The man I needed above all else. Gone for eternity. Until I stumbled upon a humble man from humble origins. He reminded me of the wolves I loved so much. Reminded me that I needed a pack to survive. Sparked something in my chest I had long since thought dead. Axlan. A bull-headed beast that fought me at every turn. Until he was no longer a beast… But the first werewolf on earth. I am Marzanna. The goddess of spring. The creator of life. But you'll better understand me when I say this. I am the goddess all wolves worship and this is how my people came to be.

The Blood Moon is coming. This is a developmental story of each main character and somehow along the way things did not go exactly I planned it. My main characters fear the end than allowing themselves to grow with the novel. "This is not my story, I don't want to be the main character." -Sam "This can't be my story...there are too many twists, I can't handle it." -Gab "There is no story especially when the Red Moon brings forces that want Alpha's dead and Omegas enslaved to insanity." -Ora "I am the blood moon and this is my story. It wasn't always like this but I knew this was coming.... Hi, My name is Alexandria and I am an Omega. My nature does not determine the rest of my unfortunate story. This moon has no idea of my hardships neither do the people behind it, my world broke me and that refined me. It made me stronger and wiser besides there's no world to ran to especially when they are all being attacked, this is the disruption of the supernatural and being cornered makes me question if by luck we survive." "Did she mention she always has to be the hero especially when it is unnecessary? Oh hey, the names Noah and that lovely tenacious one is mine. I am in line to be a duecalion which means I will be the alpha of alphas in my pack. My quest for freedom before the overwhelming pressure of running an entire people lands me in a pickle... The woman just does too much and that leads to a storm that is coming, even I'm worried for the world.

The story was suppose to be a real phoenix would driven out the wild sparrow out from the family but then, how it will be possible if all of the original characters of the certain novel had changed drastically? The original title "Phoenix Lady: Comeback of the Real Daughter" was a novel wherein the storyline is about the long lost real daughter of the prestigious wealthy family was found making the fake daughter jealous and did wicked things. This was a story about the comeback of the real daughter who exposed the white lotus scheming fake daughter. Claim her real family, her status of being the only lady of Jin Family and become the original fiancee of the male lead. However, all things changed when the soul of the characters was moved by the God making the three sons of Jin Family and the male lead reborn to avenge the female lead of the story from the clutches of the fake daughter villain . . . but why did the two female characters also change?!

In New York’s Upper East Side, there were two heirs. One was a speed-obsessed daredevil dominating the racetracks, the other was a brilliant actuary who controlled the flow of capital. Born into powerful families and polar opposites in temperament, yet they grew up side by side as each other’s only best friend. They had fought over girls and bickered endlessly over racing bets. However, at fifteen, there was one thing they did in perfect unison. They each put on the same roughly carved bronze badge. They were trinkets Mia had idly made during a craft class, marked only by a faint “M” scratched on the back. Back then, Mia was seated in the last row of the classroom. Her background was a complete mystery to everyone. Yet they wore that badge for ten whole years. Whether standing on the F1 podium or locking in billion-dollar trades at the exchange, the cheap little badge on their chests never changed. Until Ella showed up. She was the cherished daughter of a rising conglomerate family. She hand-stitched two gold-thread fabric patches and gifted them to them. The patches looked so ordinary they looked like the kind of trinket you would find three for a dollar at a flea market. And yet, they both replaced their bronze badges with her plain patches. Mia did not say anything. She simply folded away an old newspaper clipping with a photo of the three of them smiling together. That night, she called her father in Sicily. Her voice was emotionless. “Papa, I accept the marriage arrangement.”

I was with Marco, the New York Mafia heir, for seven years. He never told his family about me. But when I walked in on a wedding rehearsal and saw the groom embracing the bride-to-be. It was Marco! "Her fiancé's held up in Italy. I'm just a stand-in," he told me, but his eyes never left her. "You're the best wedding planner in New York. This wedding has to be flawless." But I saw something in his eyes I'd never seen before. A possessiveness that bordered on resentment. Isabella, the bride, hated every idea I had for her. In the end, Marco told me to give her the wedding I'd spent five years designing for myself. "Our wedding can wait. I'll give you something bigger, I promise. It's just a plan, Sophia. It's what you do. Giving it to a client should be easy, right?" He didn't know. It wasn't just a plan. It was my dying wish. In the end, I gave him what he wanted, quietly preparing to die. Later, he went mad, kidnapping the world’s best doctors—risking a global manhunt—all to save me.

My name is Christian Thompson, and once upon a time, I was the best striker in European football. That was until he came along—Ashford Ryder, young and carefree, 10 years my junior and the new shining star. I hate him. At least that's what I tell myself. Not just because he's taken my spot, but because he's everything I've struggled all my life to be, and not to be. He's vibrant, he's happy, and the worst of all, he's openly gay. I'm not homophobic, quite the opposite—I've lived in the closet all my life. All my life, I've had to hide who I am to please the people around me. European football hasn't always been this accepting of gay men, and I'd squeezed myself into a box to fit in with what they wanted of me. It isn’t that hard when you think about my family who'd rather disown me than have an openly gay son. So imagine how I feel when the world decides to be more accommodating to people like Ashford Ryder when they shoved me in a box. It's not so easy to hate the happy-go-lucky striker, when he does everything to get close to me, despite my insistent hatred for him. He's like a thorn in my side—a hot, sexy, blonde, 5ft9 thorn I can't stop thinking about. But when one day I lose my cool around the popular striker and land myself in bad press, I end up needing his help. It's supposed to be easy. Spend some time with Ashford Ryder, and show our fans that we can work together—it's what I need to do to save my career. But no one tells you how hard it is to hate someone you spend every waking hour dreaming about.