12 Barbie Dancing

"You almost shot me the very first day you laid your eyes on me, why didn't you anyway?" Yaande asked hesitantly. "Because I felt very vulnerable yet powerful at the same time" Hezekiah answered. " And now? ", she teased. " You are dancing in hell with the alpha king", he sarcastically answered. She laid her head on his chest wondering how she got entangled in the arms of a thug after the loss of the love of her life. She didn't care honestly, at this point, she was just happy. THIS BOOK CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT AND LANGUAGE

The music made the speakers tremble, the floor vibrated with the rumble of the sound and the jumps of the crazy people. Each one in their own world, dancing together, dancing separately. Enjoying music, company and alcohol. I danced alone, with a drink in hand. Gliding, moving my hips to the rhythm of the music, not paying much attention to anything or anyone around me. Just enjoying that moment of inner peace that I was needing and he was giving it to me. It was a respite, a window that I opened myself in my own cage to let in air and I knew that as soon as I left the club the window would close and I would lock myself back in my world without fresh air. Therefore, he enjoyed everything he could. Alone. With eyes closed. Sweating the bad energy that others left me and breathing the good vibes that I had to give myself. They were approaching me. I drove them away. They invited me. I rejected them. they spoke to me I silenced them. I just wanted to dance and they were going to have to respect that. It was amazing how loud music could be my oxygen tank. It silenced my thoughts, freed me from tensions. There was nothing more relaxing in my life than dancing with my eyes closed and the volume turned up to a thousand. I twirled, I jumped, I wiggled, I hummed, and I sang. The brightly colored lights flickered making it difficult to see, but it was what I liked the most, going blind for an instant, forgetting that I had the ability to see the world, a false, disastrous and difficult world.

"Tell me, Barbie…" Dante’s voice was a dark caress, low and sinful as he caged me against the wall. His fingers trailed down my neck, slow and teasing, making my breath hitch. "Are you trying to run from us… or are you waiting for one of us to catch you?" I hated how my body reacted, how warmth curled between my thighs despite the warning bells in my mind. "You’re trembling," Dante murmured, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of my neck. Knox chuckled, his grip tightening. "You’re so soft, Little Moon. So easy to tease. Tell me…" His voice dipped lower, "Are you shaking because you’re afraid… or because you’re turned on?" A small gasp escaped before I could stop it. Adonis’s gaze darkened, his thumb dragging over my bottom lip. "We should punish her for trying to leave," he mused. Dante’s smirk was pure sin. "Oh, I have so many ideas." "We could tie her up," Knox added casually, fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against my hip. "Make her beg for mercy." Three ruthless Alphas. Her step-uncles. Her fated mates. In her past life, Adonis, Knox, and Dante Logan hated her—tormented her, rejected her, and cast her aside. She died knowing they had never loved her. But fate has given her a second chance. Now, she’s running before they realize the truth—that she is their mate. Because once the Logan Brothers find out? They’ll never let her go.

Ember accepted her lot in life. On the run, she only wishes to find out the truth behind her dreams and solve the memory of her past. Keegan has only cared about protecting his pack, but when he sees the beauty dancing on stage and the flicker of flames in her eyes his body screams, Mate! Can Keegan tame the flames of Ember and together solve the mystery of her missing past? Or will they all burn together? Excerpt: “This is the reason I’m always tired,” I think to myself. Twenty-four years of coming here and still not a single clue, but every time I close my eyes, I return to this place. I know my surroundings perfectly. Oddly the place is beautiful to the eyes. The old house sat among flowers growing around all sides. The aroma of honeysuckle and jasmine fill my lungs filling me with a moment's peace. I’m sitting in my usual spot. Gripping the ropes of a swing in the front yard held by a large oak tree. Waiting I begin pushing my legs back and forth sending me in motion. I know something is about to happen. It happens every night. The house moves in front of my eyes. I see the shadows coming, but I don’t stop swinging. They are black as night but I can see smiles within the shadow grinning bright. “What is this place!” I cry, fed up with this nightly repetition, but no sound emerges. A noise can be heard from the back of the house. One of the shadows turns toward it. I jump down to follow only to have the other shadow hold me back. “Don’t go. Not yet. Listen to me!”

Everyone in Vallermoore knew I was Cole Mitchell and Finn Archer's most treasured princess. At 12, Cole saved me from my abusive dad's grip and gave me a second shot at life. He vowed to protect me always. At 13, Finn rented out an entire amusement park for my birthday and whispered that guarding my smile was his mission for life. Now I was 23, and they locked me in a pitch-black, freezing attic for three winter days. As I slowly lost consciousness, they were busy fawning over Zoey Hart, their long-lost childhood friend. "Everything you have is mine, so it's time to give it back." After hearing what Zoey said, I left without making a scene or shedding a single tear. However, for years after, they tore the city apart and tried to find me like mad.

For eight years in a marriage devoid of light, I had abortions five times. Every time, Sam would grip my hand when I woke up, his eyes red, and promise to find the best doctors to help me recover. After the third miscarriage, he finally hired a team of top-tier nutritionists, ensuring that every single meal was planned perfectly. He always comforted me, "Don't worry, Penny. We're still young, so we can have another baby!" When I found out I was pregnant again, snowflakes were dancing outside my window. I wrapped my fur coat tightly around my body and rushed to the company, only to hear Wren's furious voice outside the VIP suite, "Are you insane? Those five babies were your own flesh and blood!" Sam replied coldly, "Nicole needs specimen for her experiments. All I'm doing is providing her with the materials she needs." His words dug into my heart like icy spikes, and I could even hear my own bones cracking. "As for Penelope…" He chuckled. "Do you think that our marriage certificate is the real deal?" Snowflakes stung my face like needles, and I finally found out the truth about our marriage. From the very beginning, I was nothing more than a living test subject for the woman he truly loved. Sam was right. Those unborn children never even had legal identities, and were worth less than a piece of paper, just like my so-called marriage. Glass shattered from inside the room, and I could hear Wren cursing, but I turned and walked towards the elevator. Since Sam's priority was Nicole and nothing else, I was hell-bent on making him pay the price.

Azalea grew up in a male dominated pack. The daughter of an Alpha who was used to secure an alliance with a neighboring Alpha. She is promised to be handed over when she turns 18. She has other plans. Shortly before her 16th birthday those plans have to be pushed forward when her pack is raided and she goes on the run. She disappears into the city. Drake, is a warrior and the mate of a diplomat sent to handle relations with an American pack from his pack outside of London. Things take a turn for the worst and his mate, Sonja is killed. But fate is funny and has plans for him, yet. The hybrid Vampire/Werewolf has a second chance mate and it isn’t who everyone is expecting. 12 Year old Ezekiel just celebrated his birthday and he knows al what a bastard his father can be. He sneaks to keep an eye on him during his meeting with the diplomat and when things go south and bloodshed, death and mayhem ensue, he gets knocked out. His dreams swim with a blend of reality and fantasy as he imagines himself in his sister’s body and then in the hybrid, Drake’s. If he were his sister, he could freely and openly love a man such as Drake, but he has been taught, his entire life that love between men is wrong, vile and unnatural, then why when he wakes up after a 6 year coma does it seem so right to learn that Drake is his mate? Where has Azalea gone? Will they be able to find her so that he doesn’t have to become Alpha, or is he stuck with a destiny he can’t escape?

Many times I have seen people struggling to talk with strangers or in public places. This was due to anxiety and nervousness that happens unintentionally in our body. We can’t control them but have to overcome them. I came across the word “Glossophobia” in 2014 when I was working on how to overcome stage fears. I have seen my friends and myself struggling to talk with strangers or to speak in public. There are cases where I have acted speechless. This is where the idea arrived and I have created a character “Abhirath Srivastav” who cannot talk with strangers or in public places due to a phobia called “Glossophobia”. The Character Abirath Srivastav does not represent any real life personality, it is solely of my imagination. The story “ The only hope” is a love story set in the style of 1994. The story is about an orphan boy who suffers from glossophobia; he can't talk to strangers or in public places. He finds it hard to stay in an orphanage and escapes to find a better place in his life. He meets a Christian girl in an unknown village and becomes her best friend. He speaks to her, but not to any other villagers. Things are not, however, what was expected. Half of the villagers migrate to another place for work, and they take the boy with them. The boy has to leave his favourite place and his only best friend. After 12 years, however, he meets her and here how the story takes its turn.

Based on gender-based violence If you were ever in a position where you couldn't defend yourself - please read the book. There is always someone out there who is willing to help! “if you can’t handle the punches, how will you ever stop them from abusing you?” “Hit me?” Blake yells. Making my eyes watery and angry. “Hit me, or I will hit you,” he said again. I picked up my fist to punch him as hard as I can, but he grabbed me and picked me up before my fist could connect with his jaw. Our eyes melted together, and I’m slowly disappearing into a dark place the more I stare. Emily Dawson was walking home one night from a small restaurant In Virginia where she works to pay for her doctor’s degree when she got jumped by three-man. they beat her and took all of her belongings. 12 years ago, her stepfather abused Emily when she was a child, so she never learned how to defend herself until Blake, the most popular and successful kickboxer in town, came to her rescue. At first, it was only about training and helping Emily get over her fears and learn how to defend herself until she fell in love with him, but that was a dark place she had to go in. Blake has a past of mistreating women, not abusing them but using them. Will he fall in love with her as well? Or will he keep their relationship with no strings attached?

Sophie is speech impaired; she communicates by writing on pieces of paper, and as such, she carries a notebook along with her wherever she goes. She was able to clearly express her anxiety and pain through these papers, sometimes through text messages too. It is fascinating that whenever she goes out, she doesn’t appear to be a pitiable figure. Sophie is bold and clever, and she is an enthusiastic being. She is a baker, and she owns her shop. Sophie’s voice is a great weapon, and there is a lot to her central figure. People assume that she has been mute from birth, but her condition was the aftermath of the sexual abuse she received from Mr. Adrian, her uncle, at the age of 12, and her aunt, Mrs. Eliana, feels shadowed by societal analysis, so she keeps quiet about it. Sophie decided to fight and survive, and she always chose to pick shattered pieces of herself broken.