Bridget Jones's Diary Novelas e Histórias

Since Lily was busy today, she had come instead with her assistant. It was a young girl who had just turned twenty. As they got closer, Bright saw that Jenna had gotten everyone on set coffee. Bridget smiled; it seemed that Jenna was really doing all that she could to win people over to her side. "Oh, look who we have here; it's our female lead, Bridget. She's a female lead, and so she can come anytime she wants, you guys; don't be jealous. When you become as popular as her, you can do whatever you want," Jenna said and laughed.

“ Spill “ was all I said to him as we looked at him curiously. “ What's his daughter's name and can we see her picture please, “ Kace asked and Brandon turned to face his monitor again as he began to search. A few minutes later the picture of Mr. Alberts's daughter popped on the screen which made me and Brandon exclaim. “ Bianca is his daughter? “ Brandon and I exclaimed in unison, surprised that Bianca the queen bee of our college, the one who tried to make fun of me with the video and was expelled, is Mr Albert's daughter? “ You guys know her? “ Kace asked and Brandon was the one who answered. “ Of course!! She is the queen bee of our school. I have been asking her to go on a date with me

Just take care of him, then. ‘I will. He’s safe in my hands. Trust me.’ ‘I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you, which with your weight problem, isn’t very far.’ ‘You’re only jealous of my tits.’ ‘True. Have fun.’ *** Bridget had hired a chauffeur-driven Daimler for the duration of her stay and it had been decided that they should travel together in it to David Allston’s house.

“That’s like blessing my hustle but be rest assured, I closed my eyes for half of the journey, I can’t trace my way here again.” Jennifer just said, “I need a quick drink.” And ran off. Between the stunning white castle with intense gold embroideries at the crown and foot of the thick pillars and a vast area made up of concrete pathways circling the brilliant green and dense scopes of shrubs at the center of the roundabout, Romeo and I stood face to face, relatively alone and staring at each other. The wind blew strong, more than usual, it made my braids in the ponytails whipped me to the right of my face, making me to constantly swipe my hair away from my face so as to remain in this starin

Or at least, that's what she calls it inside her head. The diary was her final card to play. Fifteen years of ugly, embarrassing, obsessive truth. Let's see what a fox does with that. Professor Smith starts reading the first question. Troy blinks and looks down at her paper. Right. The test. For a few seconds, she stares blankly at the page before forcing herself to focus. Whatever disaster is currently unfolding inside Dorian Vanderbilt's head will have to wait. She needs to pass this class first. By the time the test ends, Troy's brain feels like mush. Students begin packing their bags and filing out of the lecture hall. Troy shoves her notebook into her backpack and follows them outside.

That leftover weight from the dream that never quite dissolved when she opened her eyes. “It's just a dream”, she told herself. Same thing she said every other morning, she got up. By most measurements, her life was unremarkable. She was twenty-one. Final year of college - literature, which her adoptive mother called beautiful and impractical in the same fond breath. She worked part-time at a bookshop called Marginal Notes, four shifts a week, which paid enough to cover the gap between her student loan and her actual rent. It smelled like old paper and the owner let her read between customers. She had long settled into this lifestyle.

Damien Cross looked up from the stack of papers, his dark brows pulling together in that serious way that always got me going. He was older, mid-thirties, with a sharp jawline and those broad shoulders straining against his button-down shirt. “Lila, you’re my brightest student, but you keep pushing this angle. Forbidden doesn’t make it right. It just makes the consequences messier.” His voice was low and rough, like he was trying to stay professional but failing a little more each week. I smiled, crossing my legs slowly so the fabric whispered against my skin. “Messy is the fun part. Take Anna Karenina.

(Bridgette’s Pov) Once I heard the news all day Friday, I tried to call Jake, but he didn’t answer or respond to my texts. In the past, he used to respond to me quickly. Have I lost him for good? Bridgette got up from her desk, nervously pacing the floor. “I've got to be at that wedding, but what should I do if he won’t return my calls? I know who will get me into this wedding.” She snapped her finger as a brilliant plan popped into her head. ‘Jake can’t be over me just like that. Maybe seeing me will make him think twice about marrying a client, especially one pregnant. Within a moment, she picked up the phone and made that all-important call to the one person who would welcome her with op

Episode 49 – The Confessional Diary The attic smelled of dust and forgotten things. Ophelia’s fingers traced the spine of a leather-bound journal, its surface cool and smooth, tucked away in a cedar chest that had belonged to her grandmother. She hadn’t been looking for secrets; she’d been looking for old photo albums. But the moment she lifted the diary’s cover and saw the elegant, looping script, her own script, from years ago, a peculiar heat bloomed in her chest.