Christmas Spoken Poetry Tagalog Novels & Stories

“You think coming here and apologizing solves it? Do you think it’s going to ease my pain? The pain you inflicted on me?” I yelled at him, my chest burning with all the pent up anger, waiting to be unleashed. Ashton reached out to touch me, but I slapped his hand away. Hurt flashed in his eyes, but I couldn’t care less. “I’m sorry, Helen. I promise to do better. Please, give me a second chance.” I scoffed. What a joke! “We are divorced, Ashton.” Ashton shook his head as if willing himself not to believe what I was saying. “I never sent you divorce papers, Hel. And…” he trailed off while I stared at him with creased brows. “We aren’t divorced. I never signed my part.” ***** For three years, Helen tried to be the perfect wife despite being labeled as incompetent, barren and worthless. She put up with her husband’s ignorance and mother-in-law’s insults for the sake of maintaining peace and keeping her marriage. But what she didn’t expect was a video of her husband in bed with his secretary on Christmas Eve when she planned to break the news of her pregnancy to him. And worse — His secretary threw a divorce paper which her husband had drafted at her face and asked her to beat it. When she couldn’t take it anymore, she left and returned six years later with dashing triplets. But what she didn’t expect was her husband wanting her back. As if that wasn’t enough, she was about to find out that there was more to what happened six years ago, and everything she thought she knew…were all lies. Will the holiday spirit be enough to bring them together again?

When I was seven years old, a handsome man Mom brought home gave me a box of mangoes. That day, Dad watched me happily eating the mangoes as he signed his name on the divorce agreement. Then, he jumped to his death. From that day on, mangoes became a lifelong nightmare for me. So, on our wedding day, I told my wife, Irene Johnson, "If you ever want a divorce, just give me a mango." She held me without saying a word. From that moment on, mangoes became forbidden for her as well. … On the fifth Christmas Eve after we got married, Irene's childhood sweetheart, Steven Carter, placed a mango on her desk. That same day, she announced that she was cutting ties with him and fired him from the company. That day, I felt that she was the woman destined for me. ... Six months later, I return from overseas after closing a billion-dollar deal. At the celebration dinner, Irene hands me a drink. After I drink half of it, Steven, the man who was kicked out of the company, stands behind me and grins. "Is the mango juice good?" he asks. I look at Irene in disbelief, but she is holding back a laugh. "Don't be mad. Steve insisted I play a joke on you. I didn't give you a mango, just a bottle of its juice. "But I think Steve is right. There's something wrong with you for not eating mangoes. Look at how much you enjoyed it just now!" she says. I keep a cold expression, raise my hand, and splash the remaining mango juice onto her face. Then, I turn and walk away. Some things are never a joke. Mangoes aren't, and neither is my decision to divorce.

Noelle Carter thought she left her mistakes in Santorini. After catching her fiancé cheating, she escapes on a ten-day solo trip with no plans. Just space to breathe. That’s where she meets Roman. No last names. No questions. That was the deal. But Roman doesn’t feel like a mistake. He feels like clarity. They talk for hours, stay up too late, and fall into easy, consuming Sex. With him, Noelle is fearless, sharing truths she’s never spoken out loud, because it’s safe when she's never going to see him again. When she leaves, she’s lighter. A little sad, but okay. Missing him feels harmless,after all, how much damage can a memory do? She’s wrong. Days later, at an event, she sees him again. Roman Ashford. Her ex-fiancé’s estranged stepbrother. Five years abroad, now back and looking at her like he already knows everything. Because he does. Noelle wants to run. Roman doesn’t let her. He remembers Santorini. Every conversation. Every touch. Every moment she let herself unravel. And he has no intention of pretending it never happened. Within weeks, he buys her company just to keep her close. Noelle tells herself it’s too complicated. The family tension is already fragile. Getting involved would be reckless. She almost believes it. Then she misses her cycle. She's not pregnant. At a family event, Roman’s mother and Noelle’s father come face to face and it’s clear they share a past no one ever spoke about. Then someone said Roman and Noelle look… similar. What if the problem isn’t just complicated but forbidden? The truth unravels slowly, then all at once. They are not related. They never were. The reason Noelle held onto is gone. And Roman is done waiting.

TWO BOOKS IN ONE BOOK 1 - WINTER'S MATE:FATED ON ICE (COMPLETED) BOOK 2- THE GOALIE'S KEEPER (AU VERSION OF WMFOI - ONGOING) {MATURE — mid slow burn with yearning MMC. Knotting, claiming, mate frenzy and rutting. Check the trigger warnings. The FMC is a plus-size woman who insecure about her body, but as the book progresses, she'll learn to love herself.} ✧ SNIPPET ✧ My body hummed with desire as I tilted my head. "Fuck, you smell so good, sweetheart." He nipped at my jaw, his voice rough and primal. "I want to pound you so hard, knot you, and breed you with our pups." I gasped, clutching his shirt. "What are you waiting for? " I whispered. "Claim me. Mark me. And make me yours." His eyes flashed, and a growl rumbled through him. "Careful, sweetheart. Once I claim you, you'll be mine—body, heart, and soul." "Then take me." ~**~ Christmas was meant to be magical—yet for Rosie Martinez, it became the night her world ended. A cruel bet. A viral video. A betrayal that left her reputation in ruins. Desperate to breathe again, Rosie runs to a quiet mountain town where no one knows her name—where she hopes she can disappear. She didn't expect him. Jude Winters—hockey captain, future Alpha of the Winters Pack, and the stranger who saved her in the snow. The moment he touched her, he knew. Mate. His. Forever. Rosie has no idea what she is to him. No clue about the supernatural world hidden beneath this frozen town. She only feels the way her body awakens around him… and the way he watches her like she's the only woman he's ever wanted. But when her past crashes into their peaceful relationship—threatening the one person he cares about—Jude's control snaps.

When I was seven, my father brought home a beautiful lady who gave me a mango. That day, my mother watched me happily eating the mango while she signed her name on the divorce papers. After that, she jumped off the roof of our building. From then on, mangoes became the nightmare of my life. So on my wedding day, I told my husband, Alan Holt, "If you ever want a divorce, just give me a mango." Alan pulled me into his arms, quiet. From then on, mangoes became off-limits for him, too. On Christmas Eve of our fifth year of marriage, Alan's childhood sweetheart, Larissa Fennimore, left a mango on his desk at the office. The very same day, Alan announced he was cutting ties with Larissa and fired her from the company. That day, I truly believed he was the man I was meant to be with. Half a year later, I flew back from overseas, having just closed a partnership deal worth about 200 million dollars. At the celebration dinner, Alan handed me a drink. After I had finished half the glass, his so-called childhood sweetheart, the woman who had been kicked out of the company, stood behind me with a big grin and asked, "Does the mango juice taste good?" I stared at Alan in disbelief, and he was trying hard not to laugh. "Don't be mad. Larissa insisted I played a little joke on you. I didn't actually give you a mango; I just gave you a bottle of mango juice. But I think she's right. The fact that you don't eat mangoes is a real problem. You were really enjoying that juice just now." My face went cold. I lifted my hand and threw the rest of the mango juice in his face, then turned around and walked away. Some things are never a joke. I wouldn't kid around with mangoes or divorce.

To train myself for the role ahead, I hid the truth — that I was the only daughter of an Alpha King. In my first year at the Dark Moon Pack, I fell for Leo, the Alpha's youngest son, the moment I laid eyes on him. Three years of love. The cold, brutal man spoiled me rotten. Yet he never once agreed to a marking ceremony with me. I later found out why — his pack didn't think I was good enough. After all, the Dark Moon Pack was the most powerful in the Northern Territories, and in their eyes, I was just a nameless rogue from some lesser pack. With the whispers about the gap between our ranks growing louder, I decided to tell him the truth about my bloodline. But then Leo started disappearing. Day after day. After his ninety-ninth night away, I saw a photo on his childhood sweetheart's Ins Story — a Christmas tree decked out in sex toys. The caption read: "Leo promised me — on the night of our marking ceremony, we're going to try every single one." Before I could even process it, my phone buzzed again. A DM. From the same woman. "Do you have any idea how much Leo needs me? Every year on your birthday, every anniversary — he waits until you fall asleep, then comes to spend the night with me." "A high-born wolf like me is the only one worthy of being his mate. You're nothing but the third wheel between an Alpha and his Luna." I stared at the words on the screen, my thumb frozen in midair. Should I be furious? Should I fall apart? Nothing. I felt nothing. Just a hollow space where my heart used to be. Fine. This tainted love, this man — I was done with all of it. I closed my eyes and reached out through the mind-link to my father, the Alpha King. "Dad, I agree to come home and take the throne."

Deck the halls with daddy issues and scream "yes, Santa" until the neighbors complain. She sold herself to save her mother. He bought her to settle a score. Neither expected twelve days of captivity to feel like coming home. Ten years ago, Evangeline Rose fled Willow Creek and the cruel boy who made her life hell. Now she’s back with a new name, a new body, and one desperate choice: enter the town’s secret Christmas auction where wealthy men bid on willing women. When the hammer falls at five hundred thousand dollars, Eva expects a stranger. Instead, she gets Grayson Holt—her former tormentor, now a devastatingly dangerous man in a half-open Santa jacket who just bought twelve uninterrupted nights with the virgin he once swore no one would ever want. She should be terrified. He's the reason she hid in bathroom stalls and cried herself to sleep. But the first time he kisses her, his hands shake. The first time she fights back, he groans her name like a prayer. And somewhere between the firelight and the snow and the silk ribbons around her wrists, they both realize the ugly truth: He didn't buy her to break her. He bought her because he's been broken without her. The boy who spray-painted "fat ugly bitch" on her locker is the same man who falls to his knees in the snow on the last morning and begs her not to leave. The girl who swore she'd never forgive him is the same woman who has to choose: walk away free, or stay with the monster who finally admitted he's been in love with her since the day he made her cry. Eva spent a decade learning to hate Grayson Holt. Turns out she's been loving him the whole damn time.

“You have no idea,” he said quietly, “how difficult it is hearing you say things like that while you’re upstairs and I can’t touch you.” My stomach tightened hard. “Then come upstairs.” The words escaped before I could think them through. Silence crashed into the room. “You do know what you’re asking for, don’t you?” “Yes.” A long pause. Then: “Open your door.” At twenty-two, Ivy Hart has mastered the art of pretending. By day, she’s the polished daughter of a wealthy country club businessman—the successful young woman her father proudly brags about to his golf buddies. By night, she becomes someone else entirely. Hidden behind soft lighting, silk robes, and a fake name, Ivy earns millions online giving strangers the intimacy she’s never found in real life. But one man is different. Masked. Older. Addictive. Known only as BigDaddyP, he doesn’t just watch her—he sees her. Every insecurity. Every lie. Every lonely part she hides behind the camera. Their late-night sessions become her obsession. Until the night he whispers her real name during a private stream. Terrified, Ivy logs off moments before her father calls with unexpected news: his famous actor godson, Patrick Laurent, will be staying at their mansion for Christmas while her parents leave town. Cold blue eyes. Dangerous restraint. A voice she would recognize anywhere. Because the man she’s been craving in the dark is now sleeping down the hall from her. Snowed in together in a mansion, the line between performance and reality begins to blur. And the more Patrick strips away her carefully built masks, the more Ivy realizes the real danger isn’t that her father’s closest friend knows exactly who she is, It’s that she wants him in every forbidden way possible.

Christmas Eve was meant to be the culmination of seven years of long-distance longing—the day Lorenzo finally slid an engagement ring onto my finger. Instead, a sudden emergency surgery chained me to the operating table. The patient wasn't just suffering from a premature delivery and catastrophic hemorrhaging; she was riddled with infections, the biological fallout of a reckless, hedonistic lifestyle. The girl on the table spat out orders with a venomous entitlement that made my blood run cold. "My husband is the head of the Corleone family. He’s second to none, and this entire city bows to him. If you can’t save my baby, you’re all dead." My mind went blank. There was only one head of the Corleone family: Lorenzo. "You’ve got the wrong man," I said, my voice wavering despite my frown. "The news said he’s already engaged to a woman from a rival family for a strategic alliance." The girl looked at me as if I’d just told a pathetic joke. She surveyed me with a mocking sneer. "Oh, he’s mentioned that woman. He said she’s like a cold corpse—that even touching her makes him sick to his stomach. She doesn't provide him a fraction of the pleasure I do." She smirked. "He heard something happened to the baby. He’s en route from Sicily right now with his personal detail." She flicked her phone screen open. There it was: a photo of her and Lorenzo, locked in a suffocatingly intimate embrace. I froze. A second later, a notification from Lorenzo vibrated against my palm. “Darlin’, something urgent came up tonight. I’m skipping the engagement dinner. I’ll make it up to you later.” Since they were so utterly in love, I decided to give them exactly what they wanted. I dialed a number that had been silent for three years—the number of the true mastermind of the underworld, Don Sebastian. "Does your proposal from three years ago still stand?"

In my previous life, my father gathered my sister Sarah and me and ordered us to choose a mate from the Alphas of the three great wolf packs: Black Fang, Red Claw, and Silverwind. Both of us set our sights on the same man—the most powerful Alpha among them all, Red Claw’s Alpha, Rhett. However, my father had always favored Sarah. Without giving me a choice, he forced me into a political marriage with Blake, the slightly weaker Alpha of the Black Fang pack. Meanwhile, Sarah got exactly what she wanted and married Rhett. At the time, no one expected what would happen next. After I became pregnant, Blake suddenly awakened the hidden power within his bloodline—the legendary strength of the Black Wolf. Overnight, he rose to become the most powerful Alpha of all. From that moment on, he treated me with endless tenderness, indulged my every wish, and never once raised his voice to me. Meanwhile, Sarah’s life with Rhett turned into a nightmare. Day after day, she endured his fists and cruelty. Her body was constantly covered in bruises and wounds. The jealousy consumed her until she finally lost control. One day, she forced poisonous wolfsbane down my throat. I died in unbearable agony, both the child in my womb and I. In my final moments, as my life faded away, I saw someone rushing toward me. It was Seville, the silent Alpha of the Silverwind pack, the man who had barely spoken a word the entire time. Yet, he was the one holding my lifeless body, crying uncontrollably. … When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day we were meant to choose our mates. This time, Sarah moved first. She deliberately seduced Blake before I could even approach him. Only then did I realize that she, too, had been reborn. She looked at me with open provocation, her lips curling into a smug smile. “You’re… too late.” I smiled brightly in return. Then, I chose the least favored Alpha of them all, Seville. She could go ahead. Blake was all hers. All the torment Blake inflicted on me in my previous life, she can have it this time.