Blackfire Titans Go Mga Nobela at Kwento

My roommate, Keith Kavanaugh, calls himself the "Holy Son of Frost". On the very first day we meet, he insists that the air conditioner in our dorm room must stay on until October, and the temperature can never go above 50°F. He claims, "A mystic says I'm the Holy Son of Frost, so I have a rare physique. I can only live in cool environments of 50°F at most." He even starts live-streaming, and his "special condition" instantly attracts a huge following. Meanwhile, I'm sitting right in front of the AC vent, so I'm shivering all over from the cold. I quickly turn the temperature up, but he immediately turns it back down and even locks the remote in his cabinet. "We're all educated college students here. Why are you so selfish?" he questions. Faced with his unreasonable accusation, I hold back my anger and try to reason with him. "We're in the north region. The weather here is cool enough in September. There's no need to set the AC this low. But if you insist, I can switch spots with you…" Keith cuts me off impatiently, "Are you crazy? Who sleeps right in front of the AC vent? What if I get sick from it? No one else has a problem. Why are you the only one making a fuss? Let me warn you—I'll melt from the heat. If you make me uncomfortable during my stay, I'll have you kicked out!" I realize there's no reasoning with him, so I plan to contact the dorm counselor to switch rooms. But Keith beats me to it! He goes to her first, records a video, and even posts it online. He accuses me, a local student, of being selfish and bullying him, someone who is from out of town. Just then, a new post suddenly appears on the campus forum. The poster writes, "My roommates are too wasteful. One guy washes his hair every day, and he even uses running water. He even takes a shower after every training session! Meanwhile, I can wash my whole body with just one damp towel. "And the worst part of this is that they want to kick me out after I made an itemized bill to split expenses. These cheapskates are always taking advantage of me. I'm looking for a high-quality dorm to take me in." My eyes light up instantly. He's the one!

“Dean...” Her voice trembled as his hand slid up her waist, slowly and reverently touching her, making her feel things she had never felt before. “I've never... This is my first time.” Alice had no wolf, no mate, and apparently no luck until one reckless night with her boss changed everything. It was never supposed to mean anything. He was engaged to someone else, someone who belonged in his world. She was just a mistake. And now she's carrying his child, and the worst part is watching him choose someone else when she had always wanted him.

In the empty villa, Celia Quinn sat motionless on the sofa. It wasn't until much later that the villa's front door swung open, and Lucas Shaw stepped inside. His gaze paused briefly on her, then his expression turned cold. "Yvonne is running a fever today. Why did you keep calling me?"

I suffered from a skin condition. I scratched myself in the library, and millions of netizens spammed my private inbox. Only then did I find out that a girl accused me of harassing her. I took out my diagnostic report to defend my innocence, but the girl cried pitifully. “You really know how to make an excuse for yourself! How could someone innocent like me frame you?” Even my elder brother spoke up for her! “Why would she frame you of all people? Can’t you take a look at yourself?” I could not bear the cyberbullying, and I died from a sudden heart attack the day before the court hearing. My grandfather could not accept my death, and he collapsed into a coma. My parents cut off ties with my brother before they committed suicide at home. Meanwhile, the girl did not just successfully make her way into graduate school, but she also dug open my grave and used my ashes to make fireworks. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day when she had asked me to reserve a seat in the library.

Everyone knew that Aria Jackson had loved Larry Spencer for years. The usually obedient Aria got tattoos for him, broke rules for him, and even moved to a foreign city for him. But when she fell into the lake and he rescued her rival instead, leaving her soaking and miserable, her heart finally shattered completely. The man who came after Larry held her protectively in his arms and suggested with a gentle laugh, "Miss Jackson, have you considered teaching your ex-husband a lesson?" She promptly filed for divorce and married Archer Duncan, the heir to the Duncan empire and the powerful CEO of Duncan Industries. That evening, their marriage certificate was posted on social media. The typically aloof Larry finally showed his desperation, begging her not to marry Archer and then turning to threaten him, "You think she loves you? She's just using the Duncan family's wealth and connections!" Archer simply tightened his arm around her waist and replied calmly, "So what? Fortunately, I have both in abundance." What no one knew was that Aria had been Archer's carefully laid plan all along. He had deeply loved this rose from the beginning—he admired her ambition and was eager to support her boldness and independence.

With a sharp gunshot, my husband of twenty years, Marcus De Luca, rushed in front of me and took the bullet for me. As he lay dying, he spoke gently. “Nerina, live well.” I held him in my arms. My tears kept falling as I pressed hard against the wound in his chest. But he only touched my hair. His eyes fell on Vivian’s body. “She’s dead. I have no reason to live either.” It felt like a bullet had gone through my head. All the blood in my body froze. “She suffered in Sicily for twenty years.” “She finally came back, and now she died in front of me.” “Please stay alive. Bury me with her.” “If there is another life, don’t let her go to Sicily in your place again.” “Please make us whole.” His hand fell. My world collapsed. When I opened my eyes again, I was standing in front of Marcus’s father. The old Don looked at me. “Your wedding with Marcus is set for three days from now.” I lifted my head and spoke calmly. “Marcus’s bride should not be me. It should be Vivian.” “As for Sicily, I’ll go.”

Brianna Lester, with her unusually platinum blonde hair and grayish-blue eyes, is impossible to miss wherever she goes. Her bubbly personality, hyperactivity, innate talent for tripping even while standing still, and her knack for always causing trouble ensure that she immediately catches the attention of the coolest tattoo artist around. Unfortunately, it's not her rather unique appearance that gets noticed, but her clumsiness. The moment she closes the door of the tattoo shop, one of the pictures hanging on the wall-the owner's favorite, and quite valuable-unexpectedly falls down. To make up for the damage, she ends up working at the shop until she can pay off the cost of the picture. It would all be pretty easy if a sexy tattoo artist didn't enjoy teasing her about her bad luck. By now, Brianna has resigned herself to the idea that her life is stuck in the "never a joy" zone, and her birthday is proof of that. Who can be considered lucky if they were born on a day that only comes once every four years? No one. Some people are kissed by fortune at birth, while others are kissed by bad luck. Brianna definitely falls into the latter category.

The air in the penthouse was thick with unspoken words and the lingering heat of a shared victory. He stood before her, the ice in his gaze finally melted, revealing a raw vulnerability that stole the breath from her lungs. “This wasn’t part of the contract,” he murmured, his voice a rough caress as his thumb traced the line of her jaw. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird against the gilded cage of their agreement. “I know.” His fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck, tilting her face up to his. The world narrowed to the space between them, to the shocking warmth of his skin against hers. “Then tell me to stop, Ivy. Give me the rules. Give me the clause.” She should. Every instinct for self-preservation screamed at her to rebuild the walls, to remember he was her enemy, her jailer, her temporary husband. But as she looked into the stormy grey depths of his eyes, she saw not the ruthless CEO, but the man who had just looked at her daughter as if she were the most precious thing in the world. So, she didn’t speak. Instead, she rose onto her toes, closing the distance, her lips a breath away from his in a silent, devastating answer. The first kiss was not a conquest, but a surrender. It was not about revenge or contracts. It was a question, and in the shuddering breath he released against her mouth, she found her answer. The cold, platinum wedding band finally felt warm against her skin.

It was my third year with Timothy Jones when he had fallen for someone else and wanted to end things. At his birthday party, he embraced a petite and cute woman, telling his friends, "It's better to go for the sweet, innocent ones." Someone asked, "What about Olivia?" "Olivia? We've been fooling around for three years. Sure, she's fun, but sometimes you need a change of pace, right?" The "Olivia" he casually dismissed was me. And his new girlfriend? None other than my dad's illegitimate daughter, Willow Lambert. It was fine. I decided it was time for me to change things up, too.

Sienna Lewis had been with Sea City’s cold and distant CEO, Zayden Scott, for four years, but he still refused to let his guard down. So, she called her mother. “Mom, you can go ahead and arrange that pilot interview for me now.” On the other end, Helen Bennett sounded shocked. “Really? Didn’t you want to stay in Sea City and get married? You even gave up your dream of becoming a pilot.” Sienna looked at Zayden under the dim lights. He was madly obsessed with that girl and terrified of losing her. She smiled self-deprecatingly. Once she returned to Helmswick, her career would pick up again. From then on, nothing would hold her back. She would be Sienna Lewis, the pilot, again, not some pathetic woman—trapped in a forbidden love affair.