Bloom Fresco High Chair

(Warning this is a dark Gods Novel. It will have violence, sex, suicide and dark scenes in it. Read at your own discretion.) Ariella is a powerless Goddess who has been locked away from exploring the royal realm since she was born. For years she begged her father to allow her to go to the royal academy but he never seemed to budge. His belief was that it was to dangerous for someone like her. That belief stays strong until she finally turned of age. After what seemed like an eternity her dream finally became reality. She was enrolled in the most sought out school for Gods and Goddesses. She would finally be set free of her chains. As long as she kept her grades up and stayed out of trouble, she would live in the dormitory. The life she wanted was in her grasp. All dreams were possible, the fear of not fitting in was squashed instantly and everything seemed perfect. Everything was perfect but what happens when word goes around that the Goddess who teaches royal laws is being replaced by none other than the high king himself? Ariella rolls her eyes and keeps walking, that's what happens. That is until she's proven wrong the moment she walks right into the most addicting and magnificent God she had ever laid eyes on. The high king to be specific. All the promises she made, all the rules she followed were pushed aside as soon as she realized that her crush was more than a simple crush. The high king consumed her mind and every other part of her. A simple obsession you say? Well she's in for a rude awakening when the simple life she had, turns into a neverending roller coaster.

As I'm unable to get a ticket for my return trip after the Thanksgiving holiday, I specifically booked a first-class seat home. Just as I find my seat, I see an unruly child jumping around on it. I patiently smile and say, "Kid, this is my seat. Where is your seat?" He makes a face at me. "It's mine now, old hag!" I grab him by the collar of his shirt, wanting to lift him out of the seat. At that moment, a woman's piercing voice sounds behind me. "What are you doing? Let go of my son!" I release my grip and say as gently as possible, "Please control your child. This is my seat." Suddenly, she raises her voice. "He's just a child! Can't you, as an adult, give way to him? You're young and dressed decently. How can you have no compassion at all?" I'm so angered by this distorted reasoning that I laugh. "If you're so compassionate, why didn't you spend the money to buy your child a first-class seat?"

As the college entrance exams approached, I paid the top student in our class to tutor me. But the day she came over, she brought along her childhood sweetheart and insisted that he join our study sessions. I declined her request politely, and she did not press the matter further. The boy left my house in defeat and was struck by a car, suffering injuries so severe that they left him crippled. He could no longer continue his education and was forced to drop out, taking on grueling manual labor to survive. The girl continued tutoring me nonetheless. We both gained admission to the same university, grew close over time, fell in love, got married, and started a family. But on the night of our wedding anniversary, Sharon slipped poison into my soup and watched impassively as I began to convulse and vomit blood, the crimson stain spreading slowly across the floor. "This is what you owe Harry," she said with cold venom. "Taste what it's like to lose all hope." It turned out that she had harbored resentment toward me for all those years. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day she first came to my house with her friend.

After Ten years of living to hate her first boyfriend and highschool sweetheart, Juma Cain Namu, Stephany Lee Awinja, now goes by the name, Stella Rachael. She is a twenty-five-years-old lady who still loves the tomboy look. Forced to dress lady-like, she waits to pick her new boss, the CEO of the company she is recruited by at the airport. Her heart stops, clouded with rage when she discovers the CEO is none other than, Juma Cain Namu, the last person she wanted to meet. Ten years have passed and Juma is back to the country but not as the one from the past. He is amnesiac (no memories of the life he had before ten years ago) and has the oddest and strange disease, excessive allergy to the opposite sex (females). One of his main missions is to find his lost memories and see if he has hopes of recovering from his odd illness. But, he doesn't expect a surprise when he is fine after brushing bodies with his new female assistant, Stella, this strange tomboy. Stella also ignites strange emotions in his heart that leads him to fall for her deeply despite her unique characteristics. He wants to have her as his future wife. Stephany, unknown to her, wants nothing but to stay away from Juma Cain but her heart fails to coincide with her mind as she falls back for him but without revealing herself. She learns of his amnesia and curiosity takes way in her heart to investigate after she finds Juma's actions corresponding to what he wished his life would be yet he is amnesiac. But, just as before, now Juma is the youngest, most handsome and powerful award-winning CEO - a potential husband to many.

My mother-in-law, Kylie McGowan, told me that she wanted to experience the life of the younger crowd, so I took her to my husband Jerome Callen's newly opened upscale bar for a quiet drink. I had just ordered her a signature cocktail when a woman from the booth across the aisle sauntered over, wine glass in hand. Her eyes flicked over the menu on our table, and she laughed mockingly. "Seriously? You ordered the cheapest drink on the menu? Did you bring this old lady here just to enjoy the free AC? People like you should stay in the gutter. This place isn't meant for penniless people!" I rose to my feet, holding back my temper. "We're paying for our drinks here. What does our drink choice have to do with you?" But she suddenly snapped, grabbed a half-finished beer bottle off a nearby table, and swung it at my head. "My husband's the owner of this bar! I could smash your skull in and still afford the damages! Get out, you pauper! Don't be an eyesore here!" I wiped the liquor off my face as my entire body shook with anger. Then I turned away, started my livestream, and spoke directly to my followers. "Look here, everyone! I'm going live to catch a cheater. Let's go explore my husband's other home."

I was dumped because of my weight. My stepmother tried to comfort me, saying, "It's okay, it's okay. A little extra weight is good." I watched as my graceful sister took my place and married my fiancé. Meanwhile, I was sent abroad to be "fattened up like a pig." I barely escaped with my life and endured unimaginable hardships. Now, those who hurt me should, at the very least, face justice for their actions.

Love? I don't know about that. That is the line you would always hear from a person who simply just wants to kill a topic about the word 'love'. Playing as it seems but it is indeed just the truth. You hear every stories you can get from people who are inlove. Starting from sharing stories down to sharing cupcakes. But what if you're the one who get to tell your own word of love? And it don't end well. Would it still be a masterpiece? Two chairs. Two students. Two books. Two lives. Would they still be two? What if the other one leaves?

Une psychiatre renommée, le Dr Chloé Valois, voit sa vie bien ordonnée basculer lorsqu'elle accepte de prendre en thérapie Liam, un patient au charme envoûtant. Leur relation professionnelle se transforme rapidement en une liaison passionnée et obsessionnelle. Mais Chloé découvre trop tard que Liam a manipulé leur relation dès le début. Chaque confidence, chaque moment d'intimité était calculé pour la piéger. Alors que des événements troublants se multiplient et que ses secrets refont surface, elle réalise qu'elle est devenue la victime d'un jeu dangereux où la frontière entre le désir et la destruction s'efface. Prisée au piège, Chloé doit maintenant déjouer la machination dont elle est la cible, utilisant contre son persécuteur les mêmes armes qui l'ont ensorcelée : la séduction et la manipulation. Une lutte à mort psychologique s'engage, où il lui faudra risquer sa raison même pour survivre.

Freya Stein was reborn to the day when she had to choose a fiancé. In her past life, she had chosen the high and mighty scion of the Haretts, but Magnus Harett turned out to be a cold and unapproachable man. On the day of their wedding, he lost his mind and ended up driving the car off the cliff while they were heading to the venue. She ended up becoming disabled because of it, while he became paralyzed. Despite all that, she pushed herself to the limit and took care of him for the rest of his life. As she was drawing her last breath, he regarded her icily and refused to save her. “A nasty woman like her has no right to live. It’s time she goes to hell for what she has done to Ifrit.” It was only then that she found out that Magnus had resented her all along because of what happened to the housemaid's daughter who committed suicide in their room. Now that Freya had been given a second chance, she decided she would choose another man to fulfill his wish. However, Magnus turned rabid on the day of her wedding. He showed up and wanted to stop her from marrying another man.

“Stop pretending and sign the divorce papers immediately. I’ll personally be watching for you to sign the divorce papers this time.” “Divorce papers? I’m not even married. Who are you?” Yuriel Scott woke up in a hospital after an accident. Suddenly she was presented with a divorce certificate by Aleandro Gilren, a multi-billionaire entrepreneur in the capital. “Don’t test my patience and sign the divorce papers right now.” Aleandro said impatient. “I don’t even know you; why should I sign it?” Yuriel tossed the document in Aleandro’s face.