Why Does The Protagonist Change In 'The Scent Of Water'?

I had worked for Customs and Border Protection for five years, but my unusually sensitive sense of smell was classified, so my husband always believed I was an ordinary office assistant. On our third wedding anniversary, I saw the husband who claimed he had to work late standing in the airport arrivals hall. He was gently brushing the hair away from his ex-girlfriend Celeste Vaughn's face, smiling at her tenderly. When he noticed me, he lowered his hand as though nothing had happened and instinctively stepped in front of her. "Nora, did you follow me? It's only a stupid anniversary. Is missing it going to kill you? "Go on, then. What do you want this time? A purse? Shoes? Jewelry?" The surrounding travelers looked me up and down with contempt. It felt like being slapped in public. I pushed the ultrasound image deeper into my pocket and pinched my trembling fingertips. "I didn't follow you." "Damien, thank you for meeting my flight, but your wife is more important. Be good and spend today with her. "And don't speak to a woman so harshly. Apologize." Damien Cole stiffly muttered, "Sorry." My eyes widened. I couldn't believe the proud, untouchable Damien had obeyed her so readily. My heart sank. Celeste patted Damien's shoulder, took the suitcase from his hand, nodded politely to me, and turned toward the exit checkpoint. Then a strange odor reached me. I stepped in front of her. "I'm sorry, but open your suitcase. Customs needs to inspect it."

After dinner with my college roommates at a restaurant in the Old Harbor district, the rain came down hard without warning. We huddled under the awning, pulling our coats tight, calling our boyfriends one by one.My friend Maya nudged my shoulder with a grin. "Your guy chased you so hard the entire school knew about it. He'll definitely be the first one here." "Right? Four years of college. Hot coffee delivered to your door on rainy days, your bike path shoveled clean in the snow, and whenever you didn't feel like getting up for class, he'd organize the professor's lecture notes and send them straight to your inbox." "That year you had your senior exhibition and came down with a high fever, he stayed with you in the studio for three days. Made you soup, fixed your models, stayed up so late his eyes were bloodshot. Evelyn, I honestly thought you'd found yourself a fairy-tale prince." They chattered on about my love life. Before long, their boyfriends all showed up with umbrellas. When they glanced my way, their expressions faltered. "How come Noah isn't here yet? Isn't your apartment just across the river?" I smiled and held up my phone. "He said something came up at the office." Maya asked her boyfriend to drop me off first. I sat in the back seat, spotted a familiar figure standing outside the pet grooming salon on the corner. He was cradling a silver-gray longhaired cat in his arms. The cat was wrapped in a soft little wool blanket. He was shielding even its ear tips, terrified of letting a single drop of rain touch it. It was Noah. The cat in his arms belonged to his childhood neighbor, Selena. This wasn't the first time Noah had left me stranded in the rain for that cat.Another message from Noah. "Babe, the rain's too heavy. Wait until it lets up and then call a car home. Don't be stubborn. You won't get wet that way." What he didn't know was that from the day Selena moved to this city last year, I had already been soaked through.

Alex, a deadly hitman that wants to leave the world he knows for a new world , those close to him turned against him. Left for dead in a marsh, he’s saved by Orion, a mysterious merman with no past and a defiant spirit. On the run from the Director’s relentless pursuit and obsession, Alex is thrust into a hidden supernatural world filled with danger, power, and secrets he never imagined. As he fights to stay alive, he begins to unlock something even more terrifying—his own emotions. With Orion at his side, Alex must confront his past, embrace his future, and decide if he’s willing to fight for more than just survival. Because in a world where power is everything, learning to feel might be his greatest weapon.

The heaviness in the air is the prequel to the Across the desk. However it is told from Max's point of view. He realizes that he is stuck in life and he really wants to move on but he doesn't know how. His first time going out with a person he is accused of the worst thing a man can be accused of. Though the truth came out later he had already lost his place in his family and in the town. He never trusted women again. He knows that it all revolves around one women though. Then one day he is getting ready to go over his files for his job as an detective he sees one that he doesn't know. He opens the file and it is her, the woman who ruined his life. She was now dead. He is assigned the case to find her murderer. This is his chance to redeem himself and finally put the past to bed. He has to revisit everything in this woman's life and with some twists and turns he finally finishes the case with a jaw dropping person accused of the murder. Then he goes through the trial and he makes himself a promise. When the case is finally over he will move on and find the family he wants to have. The day the verdict for the last of the trials comes to an end Deanna Watson walks into his office. This is his chance to finally do something about his slight obsession with the tiny student. This story goes right into the across the desk and answers the questions of how Max is the way he is when it comes to dealing with the Watson family.

Anthony Seymour couldn't wrap his mind around it. He was the one who'd saved them. And yet, in the end, they kept pushing him away. They toyed with him using false confessions, treated him as someone else's stand-in, and left him gravely injured. He never got so much as a scrap of the good fortune he deserved. Instead, after one emotional wound too many, he developed a disorder that stripped away his ability to feel, and little by little, he lost all attachment to the world. Then, one day, Anthony made a decision. He would end his life, and when he did, he'd use his own organs to save seven others. That would be his final goodbye to the world. From that day on, he began searching for strangers who needed help, using death as his purpose and his method of choosing who to save. But once word got out, the very women who'd once hurt him came flooding back, begging him through tears not to die. Anthony, who'd already lost every last one of his emotions, only found it puzzling. After everything that had happened, he wondered—what were they even crying for?

My fated mate, Warren, heir to the Alpha of the Moonwatch Pack, was struck by a curse that left his wolf spirit broken. At the price of burning away my own wolf spirit, I earned an ancient pack prophecies. To lift his curse, I had to dance at the edge of the Moonlight Spring on every full moon, until the water of the spring came to a boil. So month after month, I sacrificed up my wolf spirit and danced the Moon Goddess's sacred rite. All I wanted was for the spring to boil, so he could take his place as Alpha and never be looked down on again. But I danced fifty-nine times, until my wolf spirit was nearly in pieces, and the water never so much as simmered. The night before the sixtieth full moon, I caught him drinking a potion Maya had slipped into his hand. Maya was my aunt's daughter. She was also Warren's first love. Right then, she was curled sweetly against his chest. "Warren, you know there's nothing wrong with your wolf spirit. The prophecy Ella bled for was never going to work. But you keep faking it with the dark-magic potion I make for you. Are you doing all this to get even for me?" Warren's voice was flat. "She took your place. She deserves to pay for it." "Once the pack sees how useless your fated mate really is, I can marry you and no one will say a word against it." Five years and fifty-nine dances of sacrifice, and all of it, from beginning to end, had been a lie. The Moonlight Spring of the Moonwatch Pack was never going to boil for me. I was done clinging to him. My mother was gravely ill, and her one regret was that she'd never see me settle down. If his heart already belonged to someone else, then I would just have to find myself a new mate.