Clip Studio Paint Brush

The evening wind and tranquility wiped away all the chaos that had been filling my mind for the preceding few days. It felt as though I had been granted a second opportunity at life, akin to that of a newborn kid. I'd always wanted to feel that way for so long, and that night was a very captivating time for me to begin with. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the breeze brush against my skin as I relived all the horrific events that had occurred. All the turmoil that seemed to escape reappeared in an instant. Tears rush down my cheeks as I feel my body shudder as a dreadful understanding dawns on me. It feels as if every second of my existence has been squandered, and as if the sense of despair and worry has taken over the little strand of sanity that exists for me as it pours through my veins and fills my spirit to the core. "You've got this. All you have to do is think that you can," I said to myself persuasively. "You can't, you just can't. You'll never be able to do it, and you'll have to live with the repercussions for the rest of your life," a familiar voice said. My senses begin to be overpowered by numbness. And with that, I realized I could not go away. The reality that this is my fate hits me like a ton of bricks. As I stretched out to wipe away all my tears, I felt thick moisture on my fingers and was terrified to find blood instead of tears. I felt as if my world was spinning before I could even scream. Then, all of a sudden, darkness crept inside me. And eventually sends me to oblivion.

I am an Omega. One day, Alpha Carl Blanchard found me in the Borderlands and took me in. After we formed the mate bond, he spoiled me senseless, never once caring who was watching. Now, everyone was whispering about the cold, ruthless Alpha who treats me—an Omega who used to be a Rogue—like I'm something sacred. They said it defied everything the Moon Goddess ever intended. I used to think he loved me down to the bone, that he just couldn't help showing the whole world how crazy he was about me. But then, I overhear him talking to his close friend. "I'm the Alpha of the Eastlands. I rule ten packs. If I don't paint Daisy as my weakness and my one obsession, how else am I supposed to keep Fiona off my enemies' radar? Turns out every wound I took for him was a damn joke. If that's how it is, I'm done playing Luna of the Eastlands. On my last day there, I made one call. "I'm in. I'll head to the Borderlands and spend the next ten years in closed research on medicinal herbs." When Carl found me gone, he came after me with bloodshot eyes and his pride in ruins. "Daisy… are you really leaving me?"

"Camille had only been heading to her grandma’s house because Gran couldn’t figure out her cable again, but she stumbles across the city’s notorious graffiti artist along the way. And now that she knows who the face behind the spray paint can is, she can’t seem to listen to her friends’ sage advice and follow the safe path, leaving well enough alone. She’s determined to coax Black Crimson into agreeing to an exclusive interview so she can become the famous newspaper journalist she’s always wanted to be. But in this contemporary twist to the Little Red Riding Hood fable, our red-headed heroine learns just how dangerous talking to strangers can be...to her heart. "

After I became pregnant, my figure changed, and my face grew puffy. My fiancé began to treat me with a subtle, almost imperceptible sense of disdain. When the baby was five months along, it happened to be Valentine's Day. That day, he finally agreed to take our wedding photos, something I'd been hoping for. But just as we arrived at the bridal studio, his phone rang. "Mike, I just got back to the country. My friends are hosting a gathering, and everyone's bringing their boyfriends. Could you come and pretend to be mine?" It was a few short sentences, yet it completely altered the expression on his face. He turned abruptly, stepping out of the studio with a look of urgency. "Lucy's back. I have to go see her," he said. Hearing those words, a fire of rage ignited inside me, one I couldn't suppress. "For her? You're going to leave me here alone?" I demanded. "Do you even know how long I've been looking forward to today? It's Valentine's Day, and instead of staying with me, you're going to be with her?" His impatience flared visibly as I stood my ground. Without a word, his hand pushed me aside, and he strode out of the shop. "We can take wedding photos any day. I'm the only one Lucy has in this country. I have to go see her," he said. Then, gripping my wrist with alarming force, he shoved me, sending me sprawling to the floor. Without a backward glance, he got into his car and drove off. I felt a sudden, wet heat flowing from my lower abdomen. Pain surged through my stomach, sharp and unbearable, as my consciousness started to fade. A wave of despair and terror consumed me. Someone. Anyone. Please save my baby.

Haunted by the past, can a legend and a single mom find love? Can anything go right? Would they ever be able to fall in love? Will she be able to see past his darkness? Will he be able to protect her when danger comes knocking? Find out in this book... ................. Alex Franzetti runs a studio, but once upon a time, he was someone else. Nearly 30 years later, he's given up the rock star lifestyle after unbearable tragedy strikes. Em Reilly was once a wild child, but settled down after the birth of her daughter. Now struggling with a younger brother who's threatening to go down a dark path, she's almost at the end of her rope. Following a series of daring exploits, a puzzling event occurred. *************** The NO STRINGS ATTACHED book is a collection of mature romance steamy series. For readers above 18. Feel free to jump to any story that tickles your fancy. Relax and enjoy this epic, thigh tingling, steamy book compiled for your pleasure.

How long does it take to give up on a man you've loved for ten years? It takes me 3 seconds. The first second, I signed my name on the contract to become the chief designer of a renowned studio in Paris. The second second, I lock away ten years of my youth in my heart. The third second, I completely prepare to leave Levi's world. My fiancé Levi is the heir of the Smith Group, the absolute aristocracy. For others, he is untouchable. But for me, he's the childhood sweetheart who, with a crooked paper ring he made himself for the first time in his hand, told me, "You're the only girl I'll ever marry, even if I have to wait a hundred years." From that moment on, the only person I wanted to marry was Levi, and I never doubted that I would eventually marry Levi. But on the day of our engagement, he disappeared. I waited for a whole year, waiting for a message, a phone call, or a knock on the door, but nothing came. Later, he finally appeared. He stood next to a red Ferrari, holding flowers, and said that he still loved me, that he wasn't ready before, and begged me to give him another chance. I almost believed him. But at the same time, I received a provocative message from Levi's first love, Ruby: [Aren't you curious where he went during the time he eloped from your engagement? I'm already pregnant with Levi's child, and he loves kissing my pregnant belly the most.] I wiped away my tears, turned around, and applied to study in the Sorbonne University Faculty of Medicine, leaving only one sentence: "Levi, we're breaking up." Learning that I was leaving, Levi went crazy. He braved the heavy rain and blocked the entrance to my new place, his eyes red, asking me: "Stella, if I make Ruby abort the child, can you come back to me?"

She was a piece of Heaven he wanted to own. And he, was the flames of Hell she wanted to tame. "You must be tired." The unparalleled face softens with an indulging smile, and I nod hastily like a chick pecking at grains. My reason, wisdom, and rationality became words of a foreign tongue when the fingers tangled amongst my hair trail down to my cheekbones. The caresses like the fine strokes of a paint brush that gave colour to my skin. "But next time." His eyes of hellfire narrows, reflecting the features of a iolite-eyed mortal, and crimson lips pull back over sharp canines. "I might not be as easy to tame." ■What happens when the greek god of the Underworld becomes the 'Grumpy Patient' to a kind hearted mortal, burdened by a curse untold and a gift unrivalled.■ Slow burn Update schedule : Every 2 days ◇

I put my t-shirt down, my hands shaking. I try to ignore them and stare at my reflection in the mirror. My hair color is dark brown and a vague hint of golden. My dad used to say that my eyes are ocean blue. A guy in my history cl once said that I had perfect s. Another guy said that I had a great body. They wanted to date me. And I dated few of them. I brush my fingers in my forehead. Then my dark, thick eyelashes. The side of my nose. My s. I run my hand at my neck, then across my collarbone. Am I beautiful? Honestly, I don't know. Maybe I'm not. "You were wrong, Angelina Valentine." A voice inside my head suddenly whispers. "Calm down, Angel," another voice whispers. It's the voice I loved. His voice is fading away. My hands start shake again, my breath rapidly quickening. I am losing control. I have to do something. "Goddammit!" I punch the mirror with my fist. It shatters into thousand pieces. My reflection has shattered into thousand pieces, too. The mirror now looks to me like an art. And my bloody knuckles. "I am sorry, Edwin. I can't promise you anymore, because you left me." I bite my to stop myself from crying. I won't cry. What's the point of crying? My sixth sense is suddenly alert. Somebody is watching me. I spin around. A guy is standing in front of the door, leaning against it. He wears a tight blue shirt, the sleeves folded. His black hair is ruffled and his hands are folded across his chest. The probable most amazing thing about him is his eyes. They are dark green. They are dangerous, beautiful and incredibly unreadable. And they are watching me.

My mother-in-law is extremely frugal. She reuses paper others have discarded, carefully saving the unmarked portions. She even takes the black waste oil from the kitchen range hood and uses it to cook our meals. She says, "Frugality is a virtue—it brings blessings!" I try tirelessly to convince her otherwise, throwing out all her filthy items to protect my family's health. But while she praises me to my face, behind my back, she uses my baby's food scissors to clip her grimy toenails. My child eventually dies of a lung infection, leaving me heartbroken. My mother-in-law, however, points her finger at me, saying I'm unlucky and that I've brought misfortune to their family. Even my husband blames me. In the end, they use a knitting needle to pierce my throat and stab me to death. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the day I first see her picking up dirty paper. The first thing I do is hide all the high-quality tissue paper I had stocked up on before my pregnancy, pretending I knew nothing. She calls these blessings, right? Fine. The blessings of this miserly frugality—she can reap them all herself!

Growing up as a beautiful, smart, and obedient daughter, Auva Fermentera is like the perfect child that all parents desire to have. With all the money that her family has, it seems like there is nothing they can’t afford to have. But soon later, Auva realizes that it is not true when her family opposes her dream to pursue painting. Obeying them at first, Auva learns to stand up for herself when she was blamed of her engagement being cancelled as her fiancé runs away. A very cliche move. Only to find out that he is hiding in the same place she decided to start her new life. A place which will be like their canvas while they paint each other’s life. With every stroke of their paint, a bunch of colorful memories come together. But it only takes one event that made their paint brush break which stains their built memories. Will they try to fix it? Or will they let it be as it is?