Bridget Jones's Diary Novelas e Histórias

The assistant paused before replying, "Mr. Norman says if you want a divorce, you should come find him yourself. He's not falling for your dramatic tricks." I let out a laugh. "He actually told you to say that?" "Yes, he did." I sighed. "Where is he?" "Mr. Norman is celebrating Ms. Bowen's birthday tonight. If you want the location, you'll need to post an apology on your social media first—" "Dream on," I snapped before hanging up. Then I scrolled through my contacts before tapping on Vincent Dickinson's name. He was the one who had called out Madison publicly. Maybe he was still a decent guy.

Dear Diary, I’ve decided to keep a book recording all my days here at High Hill, should make pleasant reading in the future! Well, let’s start with the basics. I’m Gabriel; surname’s irrelevant as I’d rather not link myself to my parents. I’m 15; average height, wavy mousey brown hair, hazel brown eyes, and I’ve just arrived on my first day here. My parents sent me here because apparently public school isn’t good enough for me. But the reason they don’t know is that my parents would rather not have a son like me around them, snobbish twats. I’m just not good enough for them because I’m gay... Oh yes, did I not mention, I’m gay...and single... and full of a house with lots of boys in it. Oh b

He paused when he heard the door creak. "Miss Coldwell, how generous of you to join us," he said, not even looking. "Sorry, sir," I muttered, making my way to an empty seat halfway back. As I passed, a girl with shiny blonde curls and a ridiculously tiny purse whispered just loud enough for everyone to hear. "Guess biker girls don't believe in alarm clocks." I didn’t flinch. Just glanced sideways at her. Harper Deville. I knew her type. Expensive perfume. Fake sympathy. Raised on champagne and the idea that other people existed only to orbit her.

I try not to think about gold eyes or the way his hand felt around my wrist. strong even while dying and about the scent that still clings to my dress. I fail at both. By the time the cottage comes into view the moon is high and white, casting long shadows across the packed dirt yard. Every window is dark except the kitchen. Bridget is waiting. “Of course she is.” I push the door open as quietly as I can. “The hinge still squeals like a traitor.” She stands at the table, arms folded, the switch already in her hand. Alexia sits on the stool beside her, swinging one foot, eyes bright.

Carmen never used to like diary books and thought that they were stupid, reminding you of the reality you want to escape from. Tears fell down her cheeks as she was reading it. 'As you are reading this, you perhaps already know that I left or I am on my way to the airport now. My plane flies at 10 pm. I don't honestly know where I am going and why. But always remember that I'll forever support you. We'll talk daily, please don't cry. I miss you already. Happy birthday again.' As she finished, a sound of a car was heard. Carmen rushed to her bedroom's window and stared outside. It was Liam!

“Wow!, just wow! You guys would look cute together.” “What the hell are you talking about?” I scrunched my brows. “That’s why you refused my proposal. Isn’t that it? So you can marry your Prince Charming” “Eww! Hayden isn’t my Prince Charming!” “You don’t have to pretend. I know and it’s fine. It was my fault falling for you!” He spat. “Ezra!” *** “Brittany! Brittany Jones!” I heard the homeroom teacher called and I flinched almost falling off my seat.

I step back behind the bar and pick up my glass. “Babycakes.” I smile at her when she enters the room. She looks at me awkwardly. “Yes, boss.” “Do you know whose dick you just blew?” I ask her, taking a sip from my glass. “No.” She replies with a deep, frustrated sigh. I didn't think she would. What would a seventeen-year-old runaway know about Amar Diamandis?

"I'm so sorry but it's fake love. Fake love. Fake love." ~BTS ●●● I PULL IN NEAR the café. It's not usually crowded as people prefer having their breakfast in the city. 'Jade' is the name of this small café. It is near a small park full of swings. We both silently get out of the car and go inside. The wind chimes at the door making a soft noise as we enter. Christian opens the door for me so I silently thank him and enter.

Thank you very much, My lord- the girl took one of the hands and gently kissed the back of the hand of the man who smiled at such a caress, Mary Christine Ford was beautiful, it would serve to appease his carnal desires, since despite her status as a prostitute retained a certain degree of innocence that he liked so much. Hours earlier at the Winchester mansion, Elizabeth and hers, her boyfriend Robert Jones, found her sister's diary; Lady Winchester with her fiancé began to take clothes from the deceased, Betsy as Robert called her, began to save dresses and other things that belonged to the girl, these would be kept in the attic of the mansion and the other smaller objects would be preserv

Diane brought out a small diary and pen, she scribed on it and showed it to Adrian; Rissa rushed over to his side to be in the loop. “We are being watched, let us chat, my number is……” “Hell no! This is not going to happen bitch! We have had enough of you in our lives already”. She snatched the diary from her hand and tore up the page where her number was written. She could trust Adrian if Sydney hadn't shown up lately but Diane! Hell no. “Get out right now!!!” Rissa's voice resonated around the room, taking Diane by surprise. She had barely seen Rissa's fierce side in the past, but the woman she kept encountering these days was no longer the accepting Rissa Stonebridge that she had fooled i