Is Drowning Painful

Walking through the park, Aiden Warner needed some air. His newest research had all but ground to a halt, frustrating him. Looking up from his feet his eyes found her, drawn like a magnet. Annalita Taylor was sat enjoying the gentle breeze mixing with the warmth of the sun as she prepared her graduation speech. Aiden had made it his mission to find out all he could about the girl who was taking over his thoughts. When he discovered that she would be graduating summa cum laude in biochemistry he used it as the perfect excuse to have her near him. Annalita couldn't believe her luck. She had been offered a position at the countries leading pharmaceutical and research facility, without even applying. According to the email , Warner Labs automatically offer a place to the top graduate from Winston University. Excited as she was there was one problem. She had read articles about the elusive CEO, Mr Warner. He came across as cold, closed off and possibly hard to work for. His handsome face would not be able to make up for an awful work environment. Will Annalita allow herself to be charmed by her boss or will Aiden face rejection from his new obsession?

I put my t-shirt down, my hands shaking. I try to ignore them and stare at my reflection in the mirror. My hair color is dark brown and a vague hint of golden. My dad used to say that my eyes are ocean blue. A guy in my history cl once said that I had perfect s. Another guy said that I had a great body. They wanted to date me. And I dated few of them. I brush my fingers in my forehead. Then my dark, thick eyelashes. The side of my nose. My s. I run my hand at my neck, then across my collarbone. Am I beautiful? Honestly, I don't know. Maybe I'm not. "You were wrong, Angelina Valentine." A voice inside my head suddenly whispers. "Calm down, Angel," another voice whispers. It's the voice I loved. His voice is fading away. My hands start shake again, my breath rapidly quickening. I am losing control. I have to do something. "Goddammit!" I punch the mirror with my fist. It shatters into thousand pieces. My reflection has shattered into thousand pieces, too. The mirror now looks to me like an art. And my bloody knuckles. "I am sorry, Edwin. I can't promise you anymore, because you left me." I bite my to stop myself from crying. I won't cry. What's the point of crying? My sixth sense is suddenly alert. Somebody is watching me. I spin around. A guy is standing in front of the door, leaning against it. He wears a tight blue shirt, the sleeves folded. His black hair is ruffled and his hands are folded across his chest. The probable most amazing thing about him is his eyes. They are dark green. They are dangerous, beautiful and incredibly unreadable. And they are watching me.

He bit his lip for a while. "Just because we kissed doesn't mean that I like you." I chuckled. "I know." "I still hate you." "I heard you the first couple of times." He hesitated. "And if we kiss again, I still don't like you." ~ Henry Young is an antisocial highschool student. Due to the death of his older brother, Nate, his fear of abandonment made him distance himself from others. He stayed low, only talked when necessary and never joined many social circles. One day, a young man moves in with his family and despite Henry's anger, he can't seem to take his eyes off him. Because of Andre's outgoing nature, Henry is convinced that they're complete opposites and will never come to good terms with each other. But each moment they spend around each other keeps proving him wrong and maybe, just maybe, he doesn't see Andre as a brother figure.

The story of the cold hearted Cindy Chester whose job is to seduce the most wealthiest business man, Mr Axl and make him transfer all his wealth to her. Unknown to her, Mr. Axl is her sister's husband. What will happen when she finds out the truth? How will she feel when she finds out she was being manipulated by the man she had slowly fallen in love with? Find out in this sizzling story full of romance, betrayal and revenge.

I’ve always felt like Travis Chancer was forced to marry me. Every time we were intimate at night, he’d rather use his hand to get me off than actually have sex with me. I got more and more disappointed and decided to divorce him. But the night before I printed the papers, I heard him on the balcony talking to his buddies. “Bro, I’m not trying to be nosy, but you’re obviously dying for it. Why won’t you touch her? The perfect woman is right there. It must feel amazing.” “Women can’t stand being ignored. If you keep bottling it up, she’ll eventually run off with another man, and you’ll regret it.” He took a quiet sip of whiskey. “But her skin is so delicate, and her waist is so slim… she’s so sensitive. What if I lose control and scare her? “She’s my woman. I have to be careful. If she wants to find comfort elsewhere, she can. As long as she’s still willing to come home, I’ll keep spoiling her.” They snorted. “Don’t act like a saint, man. If you’ve got the guts, stop secretly posting on Reddit.” Late that night, I quietly opened Travis’s browser history. A full hundred entries. The pinned post read: “I finally married the girl I’ve loved for years, but I have a very high sex drive. How can I make her enjoy it without leaving psychological scars?”…

When the flood hit, my husband, Patrick Holmes, who was part of the rescue team, stood between me and his first love, Victoria Clarke, torn with hesitation written all over his face. Without thinking twice, I shoved the only lifebuoy into Victoria's arms. In my previous life, Patrick had handed the lifebuoy to me instead and stayed behind with Victoria, choosing to die alongside her. Just before they both drowned, rescuers arrived in the nick of time and pulled him out, but Victoria didn't make it—she drowned that day. After that, he devoted himself completely to me, taking care of me in every moment of our daily lives. I had thought that the disaster made him cherish me more, but I was wrong—so terribly wrong. While I was hospitalized, Patrick unplugged my oxygen tank himself. He hissed, "If you hadn't insisted on going home to rest that day, I wouldn't have been torn on who to save, and she wouldn't have died. Now, you'll atone to her in the afterlife." I struggled helplessly as my vision blurred and death crept in. Then, everything went dark. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day the flood began.