Novel & Cerita Ballerina Romance Books

FICTION COME TRUE BOOK 1 Intro; Alessia Bellandi is a best seller dark romance author who has built her success writing about men who consume women whole. She writes about obsessive, dominant alpha males who are not just dangerous but attentive. Our reclusive writer lives a quiet life and she’s a socially awkward girl who lives in a quiet apartment that smells faintly of paper, ink, and the vanilla candles she forgets to blow out properly when writing. She writes about book men like a woman full and wild with experience which is quite the opposite of this dear author for she has never actually experienced life quite yet!

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Then take all this to the table, decorating it with a beautiful red rose. “They're ready,” I tell him excitedly, he gets up from the couch without any expression, throws his book at the couch and it falls on the floor, so I go for it and take it in my hands. I was honestly expecting to find a science or medicine book, but what I found was a cute fairy tale book. I just smiled when I saw different classic stories in this book, like Sleeping Beauty, Little Red Riding Hood, Sleeping Beauty, and Cinderella, but the doctor called me so I had to put him on the couch. “Miss Jefferson, present me your dish.” He tells me very seriously, while he thinks he is a chef.

If I’ve learned anything, it’s to hold on and never give up because if you hold on long enough, you just might get the life you always wanted. THE END Nalani and Julian’s story may be over, but Irina’s story has just begun in book 2, Coveted But Unseen.

Each tried slipping back into the rhythm of the night, to mingle and laugh and enjoy the event, but their minds swirled elsewhere, tangled in possessiveness and uncertainty. As she moved through the ballroom, Jayla's heart refused to stop racing. She forced a smile onto her face as she spoke to the businessman who'd been hitting on her, but her mind was miles away from the conversation. Every laugh, every joke, every champagne toast seemed armor enough to keep her whole. Axel was here. Her Axel. The man who'd kept her experience alive-desire, connection, excitement. Now he was here, in the same space as her, talking to some other person.

“Yes, Damien Callahan supported me. I learned a lot working with him. But if anyone believes a man made me who I am, then they’re not looking closely enough.” Applause rose slowly. Then thundered. And in the back of the room, Damien smiled—but didn’t step forward. --- That Night – Hotel Garden Serena needed air. She slipped away from the ballroom and into the hotel’s moonlit garden, heels clicking on the stone path. “You were incredible.” She didn’t have to turn. She knew that voice. “I didn’t know you were coming,” she murmured. “I wasn’t sure I should.” “Why did you?”

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“You have given me a gift beyond measure, Mia. Not only your blood, but your unwavering trust and unconditional love. I am forever grateful for your presence in my immortal life.” I leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, tasting the remnants of my blood. “And I am grateful for you, Jonathan. You’ve shown me a world of passion and devotion that I never thought possible. Drinking my blood is just another way for us to explore the depths of our connection.” As our lips parted, we sat there, locked in a moment of shared understanding and love.

Feeling a bit tired from all the overthinking and hauling old books all morning. "I'm telling you, it will be Vivienne Skye Harper matched to Finn Yamada," Madi said, trying to cheer me up and patting my back, before standing up. "Come on, future Mrs Yamada, we have books to sell," she said, arms outstretched. I sighed loudly and let her pull me up.

And the distance between us, which had been the subject of eight weeks of the most disciplined management I had ever witnessed or participated in, became: Nothing. His mouth on mine. Soft. Certain. The most careful, most deliberate, most specifically intentional thing. One moment. Two. Then he pulled back just far enough to look at me. Close range. The lamp. His face at close range in the amber light. I looked at him. “Bella,” he said. The two syllables. “I know,” I said. And outside the library door, in the corridor, the specific sound of a footstep. One. Then stopping.