Fresh Fruit, Broken Bodies: Migrant Farmworkers In The United States

When a demon loves you it's not really love. It's lust. Five people who were witches figure a way to help each other and become the family of each other's needs.

I'm a married woman who committed adultery shortly after getting married. In hindsight, the first time I came to close to cheating happened under my husband's orchestration…

They met at a vacation and from there, they fell in love. Their bond was short as fate separated them. But now, they are reunited, not as lovers like before but family. Their love still exists and lust exists in their hearts as well. They wish to have a taste of the forbidden fruit but they are unaware of the doom that lies in wait.

Separated between races; dark creatures with dark; light with light. The minimal humans that are left in the world avoid being alone or even going to their college. They fostered one human left without her birth family into the Vincent's household where the mother and daughter treated her like a halfling, which is someone who has no family; anyone who's considered a halfling is treated worse than half-giants. As the human does her daily chores, she hopes to get into Silverleaf Grove Institution; she's proud of her goal but most of the supernatural beings have made her life hell in high school. She only has one acquaintance, a witch called Charlie; Charlie only talked to her when they had class or a project. Being seen with a halfling is considered being a social suicide, let alone a disgrace among their species.

When I was seven, my father brought home a beautiful lady who gave me a mango. That day, my mother watched me happily eating the mango while she signed her name on the divorce papers. After that, she jumped off the roof of our building. From then on, mangoes became the nightmare of my life. So on my wedding day, I told my husband, Alan Holt, "If you ever want a divorce, just give me a mango." Alan pulled me into his arms, quiet. From then on, mangoes became off-limits for him, too. On Christmas Eve of our fifth year of marriage, Alan's childhood sweetheart, Larissa Fennimore, left a mango on his desk at the office. The very same day, Alan announced he was cutting ties with Larissa and fired her from the company. That day, I truly believed he was the man I was meant to be with. Half a year later, I flew back from overseas, having just closed a partnership deal worth about 200 million dollars. At the celebration dinner, Alan handed me a drink. After I had finished half the glass, his so-called childhood sweetheart, the woman who had been kicked out of the company, stood behind me with a big grin and asked, "Does the mango juice taste good?" I stared at Alan in disbelief, and he was trying hard not to laugh. "Don't be mad. Larissa insisted I played a little joke on you. I didn't actually give you a mango; I just gave you a bottle of mango juice. But I think she's right. The fact that you don't eat mangoes is a real problem. You were really enjoying that juice just now." My face went cold. I lifted my hand and threw the rest of the mango juice in his face, then turned around and walked away. Some things are never a joke. I wouldn't kid around with mangoes or divorce.

I was only eleven when my life changed. My parents were gone, and my innocence was taken away. I grew up in a world where danger wore a suit and love felt like power. I learned to guard myself. But nothing prepared me for him, Lorenzo Vitalio. He is my guardian’s stepbrother. He watched me grow up. He is the man I shouldn’t want. Yet he is the only one I do. He’s 32, and I’m 20. The age difference is wrong. The feelings? Right—so painfully right that it hurts. I’ve loved him for as long as I’ve known what love is. But to him, I was just the girl he had to protect, not the woman he could claim. So I did what any heartbroken girl would do—I pushed him away. I made him notice me. I broke rules, crossed boundaries, and opened up the cracks in both of us. Just when I thought I’d finally lost him, he came back. Now the question is, can love survive the burden of secrets, danger, and years of denial? Or am I doomed to suffer for a man who knows how to protect but not how to love? This is the story of Evelyn Rose and Lorenzo Vitalio. A love too forbidden to begin. Too deep to end. And far too reckless to ignore.