Cried Rhymes

His hot breath fanned my ear and I nearly died the moment the straps of my dress fell away. Revealing a part of myself that left me vulnerable to his hungry gaze that moved over me. I pride myself on decency, to always be appropriate but the way he clenched his jaw and ran his large hands on my thighs made me go. . . to hell with decency. Reaching out, the need to touch him no longer bearable, I traced the outline of his torso through the fabric of his shirt. But even that wasn't enough as my hands moved underneath the fabric to trace the muscles there. He shifted slightly away triggering a fear in me that I had done something wrong. However, the fear diminished when he removed the fabric- granting my eyes the chance to feast on seeing more of his skin. He moved forward peppering light kisses all over my neck and torso only to latch onto my nipple tugging gently on the hard nub. I cried out at the movement of his teeth and tongue as his hands kept me close hindering any chance to reduce the contact to damn near impossible. Reducing the contact was the last thing I wanted, especially considering how far we had come. . .

Five years into my relationship with a Godfather-to-be, I realized Cicio Russo had fallen for someone else. And I decided that the choice should be his. I laid the options right in front of him: break up with me, or send that someone else far away overseas. Cicio Russo stood outside my windows all night, down there with the coldness of the night cutting through him and fogging his breath. By morning, Cicio told me that he'd decided. His choice was me. Or at least - that was what I was made to believe. Surprise came on the very day of our wedding, a strange little boy ran straight down the aisle that was supposed to be mine to walk. “Daddy,” he cried at Cicio and Cicio’s face of stony indifference, “What about me? You have left mommy already. Are you going to abandon me, too?” The ring slipped from Cicio’s hand and hit the carpet with a muted thud. He turned his back on me and walked away without even looking back. I pulled off the white veil. And I snatched the microphone from the host. “If you take one more step,” I screamed into the microphone, “if you leave, I will give all this up. And you, too. Do you hear me? I will give you up.” He froze. For only one second. Then he stepped away anyway.

When the college admission notice arrived, I suddenly developed a high fever and was bedridden. My sister encountered a kidnapping on her way to help me collect the notice, and her life was uncertain. My parents hated me deeply. After tearing up my admission notice, they forced me to give up my studies and work in a factory. Later, I experienced a kidnapping as well. After narrowly escaping, I hid in an abandoned factory and sent them a message for help. My dad called me and shouted at me without restraint, “Lena, are you even human? How could you play such a joke on us on Jessica's memorial day!” “Do you have any idea how much your mom and I wished it had been you who died back then?” In my last moments before death, their insults echoed in my ears. I was tortured and killed, turned into a monster, and my body was thrown into a stinking ditch for three full days. Even my father, the most experienced forensic expert, couldn’t recognize me. When my sister returned home with the guy she eloped with years ago, my dad had just restored my appearance through technology. They knelt before my decaying corpse and cried until they fainted.

In my previous life, my best friend gave me a lock-shaped good-luck pendant. I never expected that once I put it on, it would never come off. Soon after, I came down with a fever that lasted seven days straight. When I finally woke up, everything in my life began to fall apart. Misfortune followed me everywhere. That was when I discovered the truth—I had swapped fates with her husband. He would get my wealth while I would get a short, ill-fated life. From then on, the two of them lived a life of effortless wealth, making money without even lifting a finger. Meanwhile, I sank into poverty, plagued by constant bad luck. I struggled through life and did not even make it to 30 before I was killed in a car accident. As I died, my mentally disabled younger brother cried out and rushed in front of me to shield me. However, he could not stop the incoming vehicle, and we died there together. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn back to the moment she was about to put the pendant on me. I let out a cold smile and pondered. Since she was so desperate to steal my wealthy fate, then she could have a XYY husband instead.

My father was a highly respected criminal investigator, and my mother was the head of the ER, dedicated to saving lives. However, I was a regular at the local police station. I fought, caused trouble, and earned the title of “the most hopeless kid on the block.” The first time, I publicly insulted my newly transferred cousin at school. My father dragged me straight to the police station in front of everyone and had me locked up for a full day and night. The second time, I led a gang of thugs to block my cousin’s way home in an alley. My mother was so furious, she dumped me deep in the mountains, leaving me to be bullied by a lecherous bachelor. The third time, I stole a keepsake from my cousin and tossed it down a sewer. My father put the handcuffs on me himself and sent me straight to juvenile detention. Five years later, I became a key informant in an anti-fraud operation, helping the police crack a major nationwide case. The media rushed to report the story, and journalists packed my parents’ house to interview the “hero’s family.” However, my parents just scoffed over the phone. “Her? A hero? We will only believe she is changed for the better when she is dead.” So why was it that when they saw me lying in a pool of blood after shielding a hostage, they finally cried?

I had funded Tilly Jenkins for five years—and spent those same five years chasing after her. Just when I thought I had finally won her heart—when I believed she was ready to spend her life with me—I discovered the truth: the one she had loved all along was her childhood sweetheart, the boy who had grown up by her side. I, on the other hand, to her, was nothing more than a privileged elite who used money to grind her pride into the dirt. A few years into our marriage, she secretly transferred my assets away—and even had a child with that childhood sweetheart of hers. In the end, I died filled with resentment, trapped in a raging fire. The flames reflected the sight of the three of them together, smiling like a perfect family, while I cried myself to death in despair. After I was reborn, Tilly's childhood sweetheart shoved me hard, sneering with open contempt. "What do you take us for? Toys for rich people like you?!" I slipped my bank card back into my pocket at once. "Sorry, having money doesn't mean I'm brain-dead. I'm not interested in trashy toys like that."

Cassy Benson was bought by Alpha Lino, because she was an Omega. Alpha Lino has Eleanor, his mate, but she couldn't give him a child which he badly wanted. So he bought slaves every month just to see if anyone could give him a child. When he met Cassy, she took in shocking everyone. Though Eleanor wasn't happy about this. Her hatred for Cassy grew daily, what actually fueled her hatred was the fact that Alpha Lino wanted Cassy to be the Luna instead of her. Though Cassy refused the offer, but that didn't stop Eleanor from doing what she wanted. She successfully planned everything, and she killed Cassy together with her unborn child. She was killed for something she had no control over. Before Cassy died, she prayed for a second chance at life, she prayed to avenge her death and that of her child. She swore she was gonna make Eleanor pay for what she did to her. She cried to the Moon goddess, asking for a second chance at life. Did the moon goddess grant her request? Was she given a second chance at life? Would she be able to make Eleanor pay? Stay tuned. You can follow on Facebook @ Booksby K Thurah for more updates on my books~

BLURB “No please. Stop. Its paining so much. Please take it out. Please I beg you. Take it out. I will die.” I cried and screamed at the top of my voice. My palms pushing against his chest trying to stop him at least for a second. Seizing my hands with one hand above my head and grabbing my jaw with another, his fingers dug into my skin making my lips to pout, he whispered “Do you think I care?” and started thrusting inside me with renewed force. His each and every thrust earned a high pitch scream and endless flow of tears from me. But I knew he was enjoying it. Isn’t that the reason he married me??? So that he can give me endless pain and make me suffer. Well, he succeeded, with that I let the darkness consume me to escape the unbearable pain. ……………………………………………………………………………………………………. A mafia leader hell bent on taking revenge and a fierce mafia heiress never bending to anyone’s will. She was never meant to be for his world. And he was never meant to be for anyone. Then their worlds collided. He hated her with passion and she despised him with every cell of her body. And they both vowed to destroy each other.

My mother said I was a born beauty and was able to charm any man. She told me not to touch a man before my twentieth birthday. In the previous timeline, I listened to her, so when a wealthy heir was dosed with an aphrodisiac, I pushed him away when he tried to take me into his embrace. But the effects of the skincare routine I did transferred to my mother after my twentieth birthday. I used face masks, but my face became wrinkled and spotted. Meanwhile, my mother glowed with smooth and youthful skin. I danced, but I only became fatter while my mother became slim. Seeing how I looked like a fifty-year-old woman, my father called me a useless piece of trash and wanted to marry me off to a bald man as his second wife. I cried and begged my mother for help. But she said this was for my own good, her twenty-something face a mask of hypocrisy. I was forced to run away from home, but doing so only sped up my aging. Three days later, I died on the streets right by a trash heap. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back in time to the night I met that rich heir. This time, I did not push him away but straddled him in bed.

I was a princess of the sea. And the moment I saw the werewolf Alpha, Dominic, I fell. Hard. I wanted to be his mate. To be part of his world. So I sacrificed everything I was to the Moon Goddess. But he locked me in the pack's isolation room for three days. To "think about what I'd done." All because I didn't rush to help his childhood friend, Harper. She took a dive at the pack banquet, and the room erupted in laughter. Harper cried and collapsed into Dominic’s arms. "Marina must be jealous of how good you are to me. She used her outsider magic to make me fall in front of everyone!" As he locked me away, Dominic's eyes were full of disappointment. "I've spoiled you, Marina. And now you're using my love as a weapon against my own people. Three days. When you're ready to submit, you will contact me through the mind link and apologize. Only then will I let you out." But he didn't know the truth. Burning sage soothes a werewolf's spirit. But for a mermaid, it’s poison. The smoke scorched my lungs. The poison flooded my veins. I suffocated in that sealed room. And no one ever knew.