Novel & Cerita A Very Large Expanse Of Sea Summary

Naomi knew it was wrong to spend the night with a stranger in another city. But something told her she could trust him. She ended up having a passionate one night stand with him only to discover he lied about his identity and status....

Picking up where Dark Escape leaves off, Tara travels back in time to find she has a doppelganger lying in a magical coma in a cave and a very confused lover. Going back in time exposes Tara to a world that no longer exists in her future life. It's a world where wizards and enchantresses do battle for supremacy and witch doctors lay in wait for a delicious taste of human while shape shifters abound. Danger, heart ache, discovery and love await as they continue to search for the Crystal Key to Shadow Land. If you enjoy fantasy stories with peril, magic, time travel, and love, you won't want to put down book two of the Dark Escape Duo, "The Search for the Crystal Key".

Even though I knew cows were sacred to the Indorians, I still supported their biological daughter in her plan to serve beef at the dinner table of Indoria's wealthiest man. In my previous life, the wealthiest man in Indoria had held a nationwide contest to choose a wife. My sister had fought her way to the final round and planned to make a beef and veggie stew for the ultimate cooking challenge. I rushed to stop her, warning that in Indoria's religion, cows were considered holy, and eating beef could have serious legal consequences. However, my sister thought I was deliberately humiliating her for being "uncultured." In a fit of anger, she ran out, only to be struck and killed by a car. My adoptive parents tried to console me, telling me it was not my fault, that it was simply bad luck. Later, thanks to my exceptional cooking skills, I became the wife of Indoria's wealthiest man. Yet on the very day of my wedding, my adoptive parents sold me to the slums. That night, as eight men assaulted me one after another, I cried and demanded to know why. They kicked me viciously and spat: "If you hadn't made things difficult for Janet, she wouldn't have died. You owe her this!" By the end of that night, I had bled to death. Meanwhile, my adoptive parents used the money given by Indoria's wealthiest man to build a lavish tomb for their biological daughter. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day my sister was about to serve her beef and veggie stew to Indoria's wealthiest man.

Blurb Elle has always been the tough girl next to her best friend Roseanne, the sweet one with perfect curves that make heads turn. In their last year of high school, Elle helps Roseanne take nude photos for her boyfriend Jake, but seeing Roseanne's bare tits sparks a fire in Elle that she can't put out. Her flag turns rainbow, and her mind fills with filthy dreams of pinning Roseanne down, tasting her wet folds, and making her scream in pleasure. But Jake stands in the way, a rich jerk who cheats and hurts Roseanne. Elle blackmails him to break up, but that just starts a chain of dark events. Roseanne, heartbroken, leans on Elle for comfort, leading to stolen kisses and heated touches that cross lines. Elle's obsession grows, turning her into a hunter who watches Roseanne sleep, steals her panties, and plans ways to own her fully.

"How can you say that about me, Nathan? I never had a kid!" Aaron Fuller protests. My wife, Jenny Green, stands protectively in front of him. "That's enough! You can't slander Aaron just because you're jealous of him. Just you wait, Nathan. I haven't settled the score with you for calling Aaron this afternoon and insulting him!"

On the first day of her marriage, Lyra Leighton told her CEO husband, Wesley Cheswick, "I don't care if you fall for someone else later. But if she ever shows up in front of me, you'll never see me again." So when he did fall for a schoolteacher, he kept her tucked away. Gave her everything she wanted. Everything except permission to cross Lyra. But the side chick got bold on his affection and ignored the line. She showed up with a baby bump and shoved it in Lyra's face. "Wesley said it himself. He never loved you. He married you for your family's status. Know your place. Get an abortion and divorce him. Now. Otherwise, when Wesley dumps you, you won't get a dime." Lyra smiled and called her father. "Pull the investment from Cheswick Tech. I'm getting a divorce."

The first time I met him, he was lying in the recovery room after surgery, looking weak and lifeless. But strangely, my heart skipped in a way I hadn't felt in three years. I tried to act professional, but every time I stood beside him to check his vital signs or give his medications, my heart reacted in ways I couldn't explain. I couldn't even look him in the face without feeling shy. One small moment led to another until I finally gathered the courage to ask him for his number. But as his recovery improved and his discharge day approached, I couldn't stop asking myself one question: Would our story end at the hospital, or was this just the beginning?

On the day that was supposed to be my wedding—the bride wasn’t me. The ceremony I’d waited for five years for turned into a joke when Valentina, my sister, walked down the marble aisle in a white wedding dress. Her arm was linked with Luca’s — the man who was supposed to be waiting for me at the altar. “I’m sorry, Bianca,” she said softly. “But you are no longer the bride today.” Then she touched her stomach, eyes gleaming with triumph. “I’m pregnant with Don Romano’s child.” Her words detonated inside my skull, and the whole world went silent. As if afraid I wouldn’t believe her, she lifted something glossy up towards the light. A black-and-white ultrasound image. It read clearly: Gestational age — 12 weeks. My eyes burned, tears stinging as I turned to Luca, desperately searching for anything—a denial, an explanation, regret. Instead, he only sighed, weary and resigned. “Bianca, I’m sorry.” he said helplessly. “Valentina doesn’t have much time left. This wedding… it was her last wish.” “I’ll make it up to you,” he added. “We can have another wedding later.” My father, Moretti, stood behind him, wearing the same stern expression he’d worn my entire life. I have never seen him smile at me, not even once. “Bianca,” he said sharply, “Your sister is dying. Let her have this.” My brother nodded without saying a single word, as if that was enough to be a solid answer. All my life, they had chosen her—her tears, her whims, her needs—over mine. Today was no different. Something inside me quietly cracked. Fine. If no one in this family cares about me, I’ll leave.

At one in the morning, the general manager posted the project assignments in the group chat and tagged everyone. I reviewed my responsibilities carefully, going through each detail to make sure I understood exactly what was expected of me. When I was done, I typed a simple "OK" and hit send. Two seconds later, my phone rang. It was him. As soon as I answered, his voice came through, icy and sharp, filled with unmistakable disgust. "Eric, I'm very disappointed in you. I must have been blind to trust you with anything important." My mind went completely blank. "What… what do you mean?" I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop them. What he said next was something I never could have imagined.

Four days after my death, my four-year-old daughter finally sensed that something was terribly wrong. The fridge door slammed into her forehead when she tried to get a snack. Normally, I would've been there in a heartbeat—arms open, kisses ready, whispering, "You're okay, sweetheart, Mommy's here." But this time, I just lay on the bed, cold and still.​ She didn't understand. She thought the sweet treat would make me respond. So she held the final piece of chocolate up to my mouth. "Here, Mommy. Have some chocolate..." But I didn't even blink. She climbed into my arms, clutching my clothes tightly. "Mommy... Mommy, wake up..." She waited for me to stroke her hair, to tell her that everything was going to be fine. There was only silence.​ Completely lost and scared, she found my phone. "Daddy, why is Mommy still sleeping?" she asked, her voice filled with desperation.​ In response, Oliver sent a photo of himself having Christmas Eve dinner with his childhood sweetheart. His voice was icy cold when he replied, "She's just sleeping, not dead. It's Christmas Eve, and I'm busy. Tell her to stop playing games and come apologize when she's done sulking." Then he hung up.​ But when the truth finally hit Oliver—when the coroner's report came, when the police knocked on his door right in the middle of his laughter, when he realized I'd been lying dead for four days while he toasted—he broke.