50 Book นิยาย & เรื่องราว

(Jette came near the phone and answered the call) “Hello, Ma’am, how may I help you?” asked Jette. “Please find the first rule in the middle of the book,” said the woman on the other line. “Hello, what do you mean?” asked Jette. (Busy phone sound starts) *** At home, when she arrived, she counted all the pages, the book contains 500 pages. She divided it by two, she carefully turns every page. When she reaches page 250, she found a little envelope, and she opened it, Jette opened the small paper inside, and she reads it…

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Me: "I don't know...till they are 40?" Mom: [Surprised and a bit insulted.] "Not exactly. The record I think has been 66, but realistically it is 50 for making them, and up to 70 for simply carrying them to term for someone else. Now, if we were to be together, if you were to MARRY ME, we would have ten years to make babies, if we wanted to. TEN YEARS. That's ten chances to have new babies. Do you like the thought of that? Maybe me and you, making babies for ten years? Filling up this four bedroom house finally with baby after baby? In ten years, we might have two multiple births. Would you feel like you were a real man, a successful man, with a full DOZEN CHILDREN? Each time, you would see

BEFORE READING: This book contains 98% explicit sexual content and is intended for a mature audience seeking hot, steamy, raw, and uncensored MM fiction. DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, events, actions, businesses, and incidents depicted in this story are entirely imaginary and do not reflect the experiences, beliefs, or actions of the author. Any resemblance to real persons, living or deceased, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters in this book are 18 years or older, and all sexual encounters are fully consensual.

They hit the floor with a clatter, pages fluttering like startled birds. “Shit,” I muttered, bending to grab them. He crouched beside me, his arm brushing mine. “Careful. These are rare.” Our hands touched as we reached for the same volume, his fingers rough and warm against my skin. I pulled back, but not before a spark shot up my arm. He straightened first, holding the book out to me. “Here and next time, maybe don't make so much noise.” I took it, our eyes meeting again. There was something in his stare…amusement? Hunger? “I wasn't trying to,” I whispered, my voice barely audible in the dim space.

Ronin stared at Patrick with bloodshot eyes. "Did you verify it?" His voice came out raw. "I—I checked everything." Patrick handed him a thick file, his hands shaking. "Mr. Dudley, the sixty grand Mrs. Dudley sent you didn't come from selling the necklace. And it wasn't your money, either. Not one dollar." Ronin ripped the file from his hands. Inside were five years of bank records, showing hundreds of small deposits. "For the past five years, Mrs. Dudley waited until you fell asleep, then took freelance interpreting and translation jobs from overseas clients. She worked all night, burned through three keyboards, and saved every dollar until she had sixty grand." Patrick dropped his gaze, un

I then showed her my bag which only contained books for appearance's sake. "Eh. Seriously?" She looked shocked. "Then how are you able to write notes or do your assignments?" "I don't need notes." My mind has a great memory. And I already learned so many things this past 99 years of my life. "Eh why? How are you able to study?" "Just answering the quizzes and exams are enough for me." "Ehhhh? Don't tell me your the type of student who is very quiet but actually very talented and smart?" She clasped her hands in her mouth.

Somewhere in the city—several stories above, in a steel and glass building—Julian Blackwood lay in his dark, sleek bedroom, staring at the book she had given him. He'd never intended to keep it. When Lena Carter had offered it to him—those gentle words, that thoughtful crease between her eyebrows—he'd intended to refuse. But something in her eyes had taken away his intention. It was neither flirting nor pretense. It was genuine. Silent. Generous. He hated kindness. It broke things open. Julian gazed down at the book. The cover was unadorned, the title in gold print: *A Man Called Ove*. He remembered Lena's words: