Novel & Cerita Ame No Habakiri Hanzo

It has been said that Love is an emotion that makes us feel so many things. It’s the butterflies in our stomachs, our hearts beating fast in our chests and our palms sweating whenever that special someone is near. It is what everyone dreams of experiencing whenever they can.  But in Melina Garcia's case, it is something else, something more.  She did not ask her mother to marry another man, nor did she ask the man's son to call him sister. After all, they had no blood relation.  Melina Garcia was in love with her stepbrother and her stepbrother loved her back; The kiss on her 17th birthday made that all clear but the problem was….what were people going to say? could they ever find a place in society together? What would her friends say? would they understand Love Has No Boundary?

I'm supposed to be Kyle Thornwood's Luna. But for the past five years, he has abandoned 52 of our marking ceremonies, proving to the Moon Goddess that he doesn't deserve me. The first time, Elara Bennett—the Omega he took in—gets lost during a hunt. He cuts the ceremony short to find her, leaving me alone on the ritual altar while our bond unravels into nothing. The second time, right in the middle of negotiations with a rival pack, he senses through the mind-link that someone is bothering Elara. He drops everything and runs back, leaving me to face a room full of hostile wolves alone. After that, it doesn't matter which full moon I choose. Elara always has some crisis that needs him. She gets hurt during training, other wolves pick on her, or she has a bad dream. Eventually, something inside me breaks. I decide to sever this so-called destined mate bond for good. The day I leave the Graywolf pack, Kyle loses it completely. He tracks my scent everywhere, clinging to whatever is left of our connection.

Tomboy Lily Bennett gets into an accident and is mistaken for the identical twin she never knew she had, turning her entire world upside down! With her twin still missing, she gets sucked into the wild world of beauty pageants in her place. With the help of an old high school classmate and her twin's fiance, Lily tries her best to temporarily take over the role of Miss California while they look for her. The problem? She's no beauty queen!

After I lost the baby, I gave up everything my mate, Alpha Rhydian, hated. I stopped using our bond to sense where he was. I could sleep soundly even when he didn't come back to our bedroom all night. I didn't even tell him when a rogue's silver blade sliced my arm during a border skirmish. The pack doctor told me to notify my family. I just answered calmly, "I don't have a family." The doctor recognized me. "You're the Luna. Alpha Rhydian is at headquarters. Should I inform him?" I shook my head gently. "No, don't." But half an hour later, Rhydian came anyway. His tall frame cast a shadow over me, his voice ice-cold. "You're hurt. Why didn't you call me through the mind link?" I lowered my eyes. "It's just a scratch. No need to bother the Alpha." A low growl rumbled in his chest. The air crackled with his fury. He was about to speak when a guard whispered outside the door, "The Alpha cares so much for Isla. She just pricked her finger on a rose thorn, and he gave her the pack's most precious moonlight herb." I saw his jaw clench. His gray-blue eyes shot to me, searching for the jealous rage I always used to show. I gave him nothing. Not even a blink. I just leaned back against the cheap hospital pillows and closed my eyes. But Rhydian's composure finally shattered.

While I was on vacation with my parents, we stood on the deck overlooking the sea when my father suddenly asked, "Mother duck says quack, quack, quack, quack. But?" I was about to reply, "Only four little ducks came back," when he kicked me into the water. "What's taking you so long to finish a song? Are you cognitively arrested or what?" he barked. Cold water filled my lungs like lead as I bobbed in the waves. "Help me, Dad! I can't swim!" My mother told the captain to steer the superyacht away instead. "Then stay in the water a little longer. Self-preservation may finally make you learn to swim. That's what you need. Real grit and adversity to unlock your potential." I flailed my arms and fought to stay afloat, but panic took over. My right leg cramped and refused to move. I could only watch the superyacht fade into the horizon. I drifted for a while before I could catch up with my parents' superyacht. I wished I could tell them how many ducks came back, but they would never hear my voice again.

Three years into my marriage with Shawn, I found out I was pregnant. I nervously but joyfully prepared to surprise him with the news. Yet what I received was the news of Shawn’s accidental death. Devastated by the blow, I miscarried the child and killed myself in despair. However, after death, I saw him drinking and mocking me with his rowdy friends. “Samantha is so dumb. I can’t believe she really fell for that prank. Does she really think I’d be fooled by her? I’m not an idiot like her. What, she’s pregnant? If she was going to make up something to fool me, she should have at least made it more believable.” But our child really was gone, and I had really died.

When I was seven months pregnant, my husband, Brandon Adkins, got into a car accident. I held my belly and rushed over as fast as I could, but by the time I got there, his body was already mangled beyond recognition. The shock hit so hard that I started bleeding right there. At my lowest point, it was the eldest son of the Elledges who got me to the hospital and handled Brandon's funeral. Three years later, Brandon showed up out of nowhere, holding his first love. He pulled me into a tight embrace, voice soft as he explained, "I'm sorry. Alanna was terminally ill. Her last wish was to travel the world. I was afraid you wouldn't agree, so I faked my death. "Now that her wish has been fulfilled, we can go back to the way things were." I looked into his affectionate eyes, then shoved him away in disgust. "Too bad for you. In the three years you were gone, I got engaged to someone else."

I've been in a three-year relationship with Antonio Bianco, the successor of the Bianco family. Everyone knows very well how much he loves me. But everything has changed the moment Antonio's older brother passes away, leaving behind his newly-widowed wife, Rosetta Serra, who's also pregnant. Antonio heeds Augusto Bianco's last wish by taking great care of Rosetta. He even ditches me at the altar numerous times for her sake. On our 51st wedding, Antonio still ends up leaving with Rosetta, who keeps crying her heart out. I just gaze at the way Antonio scrambles to come up with a new excuse. I notice how skillfully the wedding planning company is cleaning up the wedding venue in advance. I also spot the flash of a provocative smile Rosetta has shown to me behind Antonio's back as she links arms with him. Suddenly, I feel like a total joke for being with such a man over the past three years. When the hotel manager gives me the bill, he asks casually, "When will the 52nd wedding be held, Ms. Marino? We can make the preparations in advance." "There's no need for a wedding anymore," I respond with a smile. "Even if a wedding is to be held, the groom won't be the same person anyway." After leaving the hotel, I dial the number of the person in charge of the International Medical Organization. "Hello, I'm Cecilia Marino. I'd like to accept your invitation to join your organization, and I can leave anytime soon."

Every time my husband, Dave Tarrett, spent the night at his ex Maggie Gorringe's place, he bought me another building. Two years into our marriage, I owned 285 commercial properties across the country. Which also meant Dave had screwed me over 285 times. After the deed to property number 286 landed in my hands, Maggie sent me another smug little video. "So what if Dave throws money at you? I'm the one who gets his body and his heart. You might be some international supermodel, but you still can't get your own husband into bed." I didn't bother arguing. Instead, I mailed her the newest Victoria's Secret set from my latest runway show. When Dave found out how "generous" I'd been, he rewarded me by taking me to some elite social event. During a party game, Maggie lost three rounds straight and got dared to lick whipped cream off some playboy's thigh. She grabbed a wine bottle, smashed it, and shoved the jagged edge against her neck. "Dave, I'm not letting anyone humiliate me like this!" Dave—usually cold as ice—instantly panicked. Then he turned to me. Of course he did. "It's just whipped cream," he said softly. "Do this for her. I swear I'll go home with you after." Everyone waited for me to lose it. But I stayed calm and agreed without a word. He didn't know this was the 287th time he'd hurt me. And I was done being his pet. Once I paid back the debt I owed him for saving my life, we'd be done for good.

Thor and I grew up together—we were the definition of childhood sweethearts. We'd promised to attend the same university, graduate, and marry right after senior year. Everyone envied us. They said we were a perfect match, destined for a lifetime together. And I believed that too. I truly thought I'd spend the rest of my life with him. Until the final semester of our senior year in high school, when a new transfer student named Lina joined our class. At first, the two barely spoke. But as they grew familiar, their bond deepened in ways I could no longer ignore. He started staying after school to tutor her, bringing her breakfast every morning. When she was upset, he'd take her for a drive along the coast. If she craved Italian steak, he'd have fresh cuts flown in. Even during her period, he'd quietly prepare everything she needed. I was furious. I confronted him, argued with him, and even threatened to break up. The first time I said it, he thought I was joking and coaxed me out of my anger. The second time, he dismissed it as another tantrum and tried different ways to please me. The third time, he broke down—standing outside my house in the pouring rain all night, half kneeling before me, begging for forgiveness. Again and again, I tried to leave, and every time, he refused to let me go. Yet with each reconciliation, something in him shifted. He started taking me for granted, assuming I would always come back. His patience wore thin. His apologies turned perfunctory. Even when he came to make peace, there was no sincerity left in his voice. So I said it for the hundredth time, and that was the last. That was the moment I finally gave up on him.