Bridget Jones Novels & Stories

Her soft curves were wrapped in a stunning off-shoulder dress that flared subtly at her knees, exposing smooth shoulders and a delicate collarbone. She radiated an effortless, intoxicating sensuality without even trying...and Courtney hated her instantly. "Who the hell are you?" Courtney snapped, her eyes narrow suspiciously. "You don't look like anyone who belongs on this floor." "My name is Bridget.." she replied, forcing a polite smile despite the hostility dripping from the woman. "Again, I apologize for bumping into you." "And who are you looking for?" Courtney demanded.. "I received an email asking me to come in for a meeting–"

My young mistress's betrothed was dying, and she ordered me to marry him in her place to turn his luck. People believed the joy of a wedding could drive out sickness and misfortune, and that a dying man might be pulled back from the grave by it. "The royal physicians all say Lord Blackwell won't live past seven days! Why should I marry him only to be buried at his side? "He's never even seen me. You can marry him instead. "You're nothing but a lowborn maid. Being allowed to marry the regent is the luck of a lifetime." Before I could react, the glowing words appeared before my eyes again. [Celeste is such an idiot. What does she mean, he won't live past seven days? Lord Blackwell has the

She felt so cold out of nowhere and she didn't know what to do. "Grace Monet is sold for 15,000 dollars to Mr. Stone." The announcer announced and Chloe closed her eyes. She took a deep breath. She was next and after her was Samantha, at the end. "Next participant is Ms. Chloe Jones, twenty four years old business woman and a model. Everyone knows her, right?" The announcer joked but she was not in a situation to smirk at that right now. She was getting cold and nervous. It was harder than walking on the ramp for the first time.

“She probably takes after you in that department. Center of attention and all.” Maddox’s lips quirked. Aiden smothered a chuckle. I had to smile. “What did you find?” “Juliet Brennan. Deceased. Only child. Parents deceased. Born in Calgary, lived there, in BC, and finally Ontario. One daughter—the one you met last night. Juliet was a successful model for about five years. Then she disappeared. Opened her own agency two years later. Closed after three years in business. Worked at a tax center.”

’ She earned beaming and nodding from the two girls. After that, the journalist smiled to the camera and then in the studio, two female anchors thanked her. He sipped the tea, thinking perhaps this news program that his cousin talked about last night. Still sipping his tea, he watched the two women on the tv engaged in interesting talk. ‘Let’s read another mailpinion. This one’s subject is, I hope it’s my fairy tale, from Marianne Jones’ The black-haired anchorwoman paused to give her colleague a meaningful look, then she continued to read. ‘Since the Crown Prince is going under cover among us, I think it’s a huge change for every single lady in the country accidentally meet him or befriend

She immediately went to her room, dropped her bag on the bed, and took off her dress, leaving only her bra and panties on, with each step accompanied by a new thought. "Will Taylor even have a slight crush on me? But if someone hasn't made love for a long time, they can easily be swayed by anyone. Are you sure?" She pondered to herself as she entered the bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, she removed her bra and pants, observing her reflection. Bridget had a fuller figure with ample curves, unlike Larisa, who had a well-proportioned body, cute face, and seductive eyes.

She really doesn’t look it. “Actually,” Bridgette says, leaning forward to whisper to us like girlfriends, even though we’re the only two in the room. “Can I ask you for a favor?” “Sure,” I say, smiling at her. “You know you can ask me for anything, Bridgette. Whatever you need.” “Do you have any…tampons?” she asks, her voice eager and girlish. She sounds every bit the middle school girl who asks her friend in homeroom for a loaner. She laughs a little then as Annabeth’s face drops. Mine does as well.

BRITNEY ASTON “Do you really have to return already?” Jane sat cross-legged on the couch, pouting like a child, her lower lip jutting out as she whined dramatically. We had arrived at her place and immediately told her about our plans to leave for London the following day and she clearly wasn’t as thrilled. “I can’t believe you’re leaving me so soon!” she complained, her voice filled with a mix of playful annoyance and genuine sadness. “You just got here, Brit. Are you really going to run back to London already?”

Tiffany let go of Camille going towards her, she was few meters from her when a familiar voice stopped her. “She has a good heart, she's striving to protect her family name, she own a house at 35. She's working hard. Who told you she doesn't have a man in her life? What she's achieved, I bet you can't in 30 years. No man loves a rude and mouth loosed girl. You don't have anything to your name, you are only lucky to come from a rich home. Tell me who will have no achievement at menopause at this rate?”

A couple of days ago, Billionaire CEO to Bridger Empire, Christopher Bridger ties the knot with his bride, Ahsley Grander, in a discreet, but elite manner. Then the screen was filled with the latest couple in the country, and Rudney’s breath caught in his throat; that had to be Lily Bashwood!