Booktok Journal Minimalist Edition

Dans la ville ombragée d’Eldara, sous l’inquiétante Lune de Sang, Liora découvre un journal lumineux qui réveille en elle un héritage oublié : celui des Sérélaï — les derniers descendants d’une lignée divine marquée par une magie ancestrale. Traquée par des forces surnaturelles, notamment de redoutables loups-garous et des chasseurs impitoyables, Liora doit accepter un destin qu’elle n’a jamais choisi. Protégée par Ashiel, un guerrier farouche, et trahie par son frère énigmatique Kael, elle s’aventure dans un monde de sombres secrets, de romance interdite et de dangers grandissants. À mesure que ses souvenirs enfouis refont surface et que ses pouvoirs s’éveillent, Liora se retrouve au carrefour de la salvation et de la destruction — pour elle-même et pour tout le royaume surnaturel. Bloodbound mêle romance paranormale, dark fantasy et thriller surnaturel dans une série palpitante faite d’amour, de magie, de trahison et de destinée. Plongez dans une saga intense, où se croisent alchimie brûlante, pactes anciens et combats haletants — là où chaque choix peut être fatal. Liora deviendra-t-elle le dernier espoir ? Ou l’obscurité s’emparera-t-elle d’elle… et de l’héritage de Sérélaï pour toujours ?

Nanganganib na mawalan ng trabaho si Chrissa dahil sa papalugi na ang kompanyang kanyang pinapasukan. Isa siya sa mga nagsusulat para sa isang magazine na sa bawat labas ng bagong edition ay laging mababa ang benta. She doesn't want to lose her job. All she needs to do is to write something that would catch everyone's attention and urge them to buy their next magazine issue. She needs to find someone whom she can feature on her next article... someone like— Trace Dela Serna. Trace is a well-known businessman. Kilalang-kilala ito dahil sa yamang mayroon ang pamilya nito. Laman din ng mga balita noon ang lalaki dahil sa kinasangkutang kontrobersiya ilang taon na ang nakararaan. Namatay sa isang engkuwentro ang kasintahan nito at walang sino man ang nakaaalam kung ano ang dahilan ng barilang naganap. Naniniwala si Chrissa na gumamit ng koneksiyon at yaman ang mga Dela Serna upang hindi malaman ng media ang dahilan ng mga nangyari. Ni walang nagtagumpay na makuhanan ito ng panayam. At iyon ang gusto niyang magawa— si Trace ang nais niyang maging paksa sa sunod na article na kanyang isusulat. Kung sakaling maisiwalat niya ang dahilan ng pagkamatay ng kasintahan nito, baka sakaling tumaas ang kita nila. She thought it would be easy, pero hirap siyang makapanayam ang kampo ng binata. Dahilan iyon para mag-isip siya ng ibang paraan upang makalapit dito at makakuha ng mga impormasyon— Chrissa applied as Mat-Mat's nanny, ang limang taong gulang na anak ni Trace. Magagawa niya bang alamin ang sikretong nakabalot sa pagkatao ni Trace? Will she be able to make him agree for an interview? O sadyang siya ang mahihirapang makasama ang binata sa iisang bubong dahil sa pag-uugaling mayroon ito? Can she ever tame... his stone heart?

"Noooooooooooooo!" With a loud shrieking voice. "Stopppp! Not again, not even here". Sobbing, trying to get a grip of what had happened, again. Her body vibrates violently, with her hands shaking and moving like they have a mind of their own. Her glowing eye is so noticeable even with the dark shades on. Her body violently jerked, spilling the hot pasta and orange juice all over the dining table and her denim shirt, while she tried her best to keep calm and behave as if everything was fine. A secret only her mum used to know about has grown wings and flown out, in the cafeteria!. "Hell no, I have to do something." She whispered to herself. But sadly, there was nothing to be done. The damage had been done already. Anxiously, she picked her backpack and brought out her journal, and placed it on the messed-up dining table. She could hear some of the students calling her a freak, and as usual, all looking at her in disgust. Her heart sinks every time that happens, knowing she's going to be the talk of the school, and she hated that. She hated all of it, and self-flagellation was as tempting as the garden of Eden. She just wished she could just disappear from the surface of the earth. Then suddenly, The bell rang, lunchtime was over. "Finally," She muttered, with a deep sigh. Yes, she is a PSYCHIC, and she's 16. She is a psychic who has another being in her. She had five friends, each with a secret to keep. they had to team up to solve the mysterious Homicide going on in their peaceful town, and in the process, they learnt each other secrets and the town's history. Will they be able to solve the mystery?

After years of running from her past, Lissa returns to the one place she never wanted to see again—her childhood home. The town hasn’t changed, but Lissa has. Now a mother, a wife, and a survivor, she’s trying to rebuild a life while standing on the crumbling foundation of her trauma. Just a few months. Just until she finds her footing. But the house doesn’t let go so easily. It smells of mildew and memory. Dust covers more than furniture—it coats every secret Lissa tried to bury. As she navigates motherhood, old friendships, and a strained relationship with her sister, Lissa discovers more than ghosts in the attic. A photograph violently scribbled out. A letter from someone she hoped was lost to time. And a journal that brings her back to the girl she used to be. Her husband, Colt, tries to be her anchor. Her son, Lucas, is her reason to fight. But a single name—just one letter, T—is all it takes to fracture her resolve. The past isn’t dead. It’s waiting in the basement. In a letter tucked behind old receipts. In the quiet corners of her memory where no one else can go. As the days pass, the house begins to feel like a trap.Lissa must decide if she’s strong enough to dig through the wreckage of her past… or if some secrets are better left buried. Told with raw emotion and atmospheric suspense, House of Quiet Screams is a story of trauma, resilience, and the silent strength it takes to confront what once felt un faceable. For Lissa, surviving was never the end of the story—facing what comes after might be the beginning.

A week after I gave birth via C-section, Mark Whitman invited his friends over to celebrate the birth of our son. The crowd was boisterous—more than a dozen people. Not one of them bothered to remove their dirty shoes. The wooden floor was soon covered in muddy footprints. Mark came into the room and, without a hint of concern, ordered me out of bed. "Everyone's waiting outside. Don't just hide here and rest—you're embarrassing me in front of our guests." I had no choice but to push through the pain, forcing my body to prepare a huge meal for the large crowd, all on my own. When I carried the final bowl of steaming soup to the table, Lily Hoyte—whether intentionally or not—jabbed her hand against the wound on my abdomen. My hand trembled from the sudden pain, and the bowl slipped slightly, spilling the hot soup onto Lily's shoes. Mark's face darkened instantly. "What the heck did you do, Cammy? Lily rushed here right after her plane landed from overseas to see our son, and this is how you treat her?" The crowd quickly chimed in. "Come on, Cammy, no need to be so petty." "Mark and Lily grew up together. If there was really something between them, do you think you'd even be here now?" "Do you even know how much those shoes cost? They're limited edition—easily over ten thousand dollars. And you just ruined them." Lily stood up awkwardly, her eyes misting with tears. "If Cammy doesn't like me," she said softly, "then I'll leave. I don't want to be a bother." But Mark grabbed her hand in an exaggerated display of protection, his voice harsh as he turned to me. "Wipe Lily's shoes clean. Right now." His partiality for Lily made something sharp twist in my chest. My lips quivered as I fought back tears. "The wound on my stomach hasn't healed yet. I can't bend over." At that, his expression grew colder. "Don't use childbirth as an excuse. If you can't bend over, then kneel and wipe them. And if you won't, get out of my house!"

A wife buy girl for her husband to enjoy freely her life “Saan naman? ” tanong ko pabalik. “Nagkakagulo raw sa labas te, may mag-asawa kasing nais bumili ng babae at hindi naman pumapayag si boss” sagot ni Kisha na kinataka ko. WFS which means wife for sale “Te, mukhang ikaw ang bet ng babae” tukso nitong si Kisha sa akin. j I am Carizza Laurise Somorostro, also known as the highest paid wife. The limited edition woman. Ako lang ang may pinaka-konting buyer pero kapag nagkaroon ay sangkatutak na pera naman ang kapalit. I am skilled with everything at mataas ang ratings sa akin. 6 months ang time “My dear, can I buy you? Promise you won’t regret your decision, I can pay, name the amount. I also promise your safety. I’ll hire bodyguards and buy all you want just let me buy you” pakiusap ng babae “Ma’am we can’t really consider what you want. Limited time lang ang service ni Carizza. ” paalala nito sa babae na ngayon ay nanlulumo at mukhang desperada talaga “I’m Georgianna Lanzaderas, the wife of Yhulo Lanzaderas. I’ll ask you again, Mr. Lawrence. Can I get this beautiful maiden right here? ” seryosong tanong niya at ginawaran ako ng tingin. Napalunok si Sir Lawrence at hindi nag-atubiling tumango. “Y-yes miss, Kisha please prepare the contract” natarantang utos ni Sir Lawrence na kinataranta rin ni Kisha. Lahat sila ay hindi mo maipinta ang mga mukha. Lumapit ang babae sa akin. Hindi ko alam anong klaseng mga tao sila at bakit ganito makagalaw mga kasamahan ko. Nagtataka man ay sumabay lang ako, bakit may isang asawa ang gustong bumili ng isang babae magiging asawa ng kung sino man? “My dear Carizza, tinatanggap mo ba ang offer kong bilhin ka? ” tanong ni Mrs. Lanzaderas.

I should have been walking down the aisle. Instead, I was running through the woods in my wedding dress. The white fabric caught on every branch, tearing apart like my life. My name is Camela Siegel. My father is the Mayor, and he sold me to save himself. Vincent Castellano was supposed to be my husband. They call him the Mad Prince, but I learned he’s so much worse than that. His hands trembled when he touched me—sometimes gentle, like I might break, and sometimes rough, like he wanted to overpower me. “You’re mine now,” he’d whisper in the dark corners of that house. “No one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to hurt you but me.” I tried the door handle every day for three months. It only turned from the outside. When help finally came, I thought it was over. I thought I could go home and pretend none of it ever happened. I was wrong. Vincent found my journal—the one where I wrote about him, about what he did to me, and about who he truly is. Now he’s not just keeping me locked up. He’s hunting me. They call him “The Fox” for a reason. He’s patient and waits. When he catches what he’s after, he never lets it go. I can feel him watching me even now—through my bedroom window, from across the street, in the shadows where I can’t see him but I know he’s there. My father thinks making that deal saved his life. He doesn’t realize it destroyed mine. Vincent said he’d keep me until the last day of my life. I’m starting to think that day is coming soon.

Mon petit ami Nick, qui avait combattu pendant dix ans dans les tribus du Sud, est enfin revenu. Quand il m'a dit qu'il voulait m'épouser et faire de moi sa Luna, mon cœur a débordé d'émotion. À ce moment-là, j'ai cru que j'avais enfin trouvé ma place. Mais après être tombée enceinte, j'ai découvert par hasard, dans son ordinateur, des vidéos pornographiques entre lui et ma meilleure amie Sherry, ainsi que son journal intime, rempli de déclarations d'amour pour elle. Je me suis connectée à son compte secondaire WhatsApp. Bien que Sherry l'ait déjà bloqué, il continuait à lui envoyer des mots doux, des déclarations en vidéo, des messages écrits et vocaux. Je suis allée à l'hôpital pour un examen prénatal. Mais dans le hall, j'ai vu mon Alpha, Nick, à genoux devant Sherry, un bouquet de fleurs à la main et le collier en pierre de lune, héritage de sa famille. « Sherry, pour toi, j'ai renoncé à mon rêve de soumettre les tribus du Sud. Je suis revenu uniquement pour te retrouver. Je veux t'épouser ! Un enfant a besoin de son père. Si tu es d'accord, je te marque immédiatement et tu deviendras ma Luna ! » Je me suis alors retournée et j'ai demandé au médecin de procéder à une interruption volontaire de grossesse. Puis je suis partie seule, sans me retourner. Je ne m'attendais pas à ce qu'il abandonne Sherry et leur enfant pour se lancer, comme un fou, à ma recherche.

Jean-Baptiste Messier nous livre ici un recueil de nouvelles érotiques torrides à souhait. Toutes ont été saluées par les lecteurs à part une nouvelle inédite « Ma lecture de vacances » qui dénote par sa perversité assumée. On retrouve avec délice et dans l’ordre : Un train d’enfer, Femme-chatte, nuit féline, Le lys noir, La féministe et le peintre, Ma lecture de vacances, L’impossible retour, La femme du sculpteur, Sex-toy au journal télévisé, Ma femme avec une femme (vengeance de femme), Hotline. Il y en a pour tous les goûts et même plus que ça ! « Sexe, mensonges et vidéos… quoi de plus déroutant et excitant pour un homme viril de voir son épouse sexy succomber à une autre femme… Mouss va en faire les frais… entre désirs et jalousie… plaisirs érotiques… et quel dénouement… encore une fois la plume de Jean-Baptiste Messier m’aura transporté aux confins du plaisir » Valérie L « un coté doux rêveur qui se raccroche à son monde présent dans le regret de ses fantasmes. des dialogues codés, des sous-entendus qui ouvrent les portes de sensations tactiles « non sages ». Les mots effleurent puis enflamment notre libido. j’y ai trouvé beaucoup d’humour…L’Asie et la Scandinavie. Deux autres fantasmes, dans l’esprit masculin, ici revisités par Jean-Baptiste Messier. » Eva C. « La plume est franche, très masculine y compris dans la description de la scène sensuelle, cependant j’ai aimé ce vocabulaire cru sans être vulgaire, dernier instant pour deux hommes qui savent qu’ils vont mourir. Un français impeccable, un mystère qui reste entier car trop peu d’éléments dans un si court récit pour bien s’imprégner et pourtant il y a un petit quelque chose qui vous attire. » Samba