Why Did Faulkner Win The Nobel Prize?

Sophia struggles to cater for her sick mother and her little brother after her dad abandoned them at the age of 17. Sick and frustrated with bills and not being able to enjoy her youth, she decides to get drunk and enjoy just one night without worrying about her debts, she ends up in bed with a handsome stranger, runs away and tries to forget about the night that felt special to her . Unknowingly to her the handsome stranger gets what he always wants in this case ,her . She experiences series of events that complicates her everyday lifestyle all these for her to be owned by him but she believes nothing comes free in this world and the temporary nature of love, she seems suspicious of him in his pursuit of her but ends up being pregnant for him . Now she's stuck between forfeiting her independence for the sake of the child or forfeiting the child. Can Sophia trust him? Which is worth it? Find out more in the book…

A tale of two souls, intertwined by fate: One soul, cloaked with isolation and grief, was a solitary figure who struggles to connect with others. The other soul has a heart hardened against the possibility of love. Florence “Flo” Emry, now twenty-one, has retreated into a life of solitude following a traumatic car accident that occurred when she was sixteen. It changed her life forever. The accident left her completely deaf in one ear and partially deaf in the other as she needs hearing aid for it. She was devastated when she found out that she became disabled, but she was more broken when she also found out that she had tragically lost her parents and older brother in only one night. Feeling abandoned and worthless, Florence, who was filled with debt from her student loan, has become deeply disappointed and resentful towards herself, seeing herself as a useless human being. One fateful day, a chance encounter with a mysterious man named Zacchaeus “Chaos” Spencer Battenkurt the filthy rich billionaire playboy, 26 years old, turned her life upside down. This charismatic, very polite and respectful man, seemingly ordinary, was actually hiding a deep dark secret. These two souls, so different yet intertwined by fate, must navigate their own internal struggles while also confronting the challenges of their external world. But the question remains: Will they be able to break down their barriers and find solace in each other’s company or will their differences prove to be insurmountable obstacles?

Love! Is this word beautiful or deceitful? I am tired of hearing him say that soulless I love you and get back to his mistress, side-chick, or whatever. it is not like we are in a relationship or we are a couple. The relationship we are in is more than something which shouldn't be named. I just want to be loved by him, physically and emotionally. I should be the one he is seeking whenever he feels horny, is it wrong to feel like this? But not for only tending to his wounds or being a shoulder to cry on. maybe it's wrong to feel something for the man who never describes you as more than a friend but always looks at you like he wants to do things with you that friends shouldn't. What is so good about her is that he always ends up in her bed, maybe I never will know, and by asking I don't want to ruin whatever we have. but it's time to move on from Ezra Irwin and do something good for my life too. come and follow Fay Moore and Ezra Irwin in their Life's Drama and know what will happen.

My grandmother is, as far as the law is concerned, a dead woman. She faked her own death so she could go off with the boy she'd grown up beside, and she left evidence behind that made my grandfather her killer. He went away for twenty years. She sold his house and ran to Port Halcyon with the other man. One of them became a famous attorney who talks about justice in courtrooms. The other became a philanthropist who talks about compassion under television lights. My grandfather carried the word wife-killer for the rest of his life. My father grew up on whatever the neighbors could spare. He never spent a day in school, and he wore his hands raw laying brick until he'd put me through college. Two generations, two pairs of ruined hands, lifting me one step at a time out of Pinebarrow. Fifty years after my grandmother's fake death. I sit on the felony bench of the Dunstone Superior Court. In front of me are five young women charged in a murder. The case against the first four is airtight. Against the fifth, there's half a fingerprint at the scene and a witness who accounts for her entire night. Even the police call her the least likely of them. The murder charge won't hold. I go through her file. Under family, there's a name. Evelyn Harrow. My grandmother. I look at how much the two of them resemble each other. And when her lawyer moves to have her released from this courtroom a free woman, I bring the gavel down lightly. "This court denies the defense motion for dismissal. This court further recommends that the district attorney formally charge the defendant with murder."

A lethal neurotoxin had taken hold of my lungs. My time is running out. My mother, Sofia, was the most connected lawyer in Palermo, excelling in burying crimes and twisting the law. When my brother Vincent mowed me down and shattered my leg, she called in every favor to clear his record. My father, Tommaso, the most feared private doctor in Sicily, faked my medical files, branding me unstable and delusional, all to mold me into the obedient son they needed. Then there was Lina, only daughter of Don Vitali, my wife. She said, “We let him out for Vincent’s liver. What if he says no?” Dad’s voice went cold. “He has two choices: lie quietly on that operating table… or waste away in the sanatorium for what’s left of his life.” I pushed the parlor door open, steady and slow. My voice was flat. “I’ll do it.” Every one of them let out a breath they’d been holding, showering me with hollow words. They didn’t know there was no life left to threaten. I had twenty-four hours. By sunrise, I would be dead either way. Funny… now that I’m in the ground, why are they all crying?

During a maritime rescue, my in-laws were trapped aboard a sinking vessel. I personally led my husband, Adrian Cole, captain of the rescue team, straight to their location. They were seconds away from launching the operation when Vanessa Tate looped an arm around his neck and said with a smile, “I heard there are two very important people on that ship. If I’m the one who brings them out, I could earn a second-class medal.” She leaned closer, half teasing, half coaxing. “Help me out this one time. Do that, and I’ll call you Daddy for the rest of my life.” Adrian raised a brow and let out a laugh. “You’d better mean it. Because I’m taking you up on that.” Then, without a moment’s hesitation, he ordered the rescue boat to turn around. I froze, then shouted after him, “Adrian, Mom and Dad are still trapped in there. Are you seriously leaving them to die?” He shoved me aside, his expression turning cold with impatience. “Claire, think about what matters most. Your parents can swim and hold on a little longer until another team gets there. But if Vanessa misses this chance, she may never get another shot at that medal.” My blood ran cold. Yes, my parents could swim. But the people trapped inside that vessel were not my parents. They were his. And they were the two “important people” Vanessa had been talking about all along.