Dead Dog Quotes

Bruno, the Alpha of his pack, was believed to be dead by his own pack members. He disappeared without a trace and was presumed dead. However, Bruno was far from dead. He had been living in exile for years, plotting his revenge against those who betrayed him. One day, Bruno met Adora, an Omega who had also suffered through pain and betrayal. They bonded over their shared experiences and desire for revenge. But as they worked towards their goal, they began to feel something more. Their passion burned like wildfire, but they wondered if love was just a distraction from their ultimate goal. Would revenge be the only thing they would get from their journey together? As they fought their way towards their revenge, they found themselves falling deeper in love. But with every step they took, they wondered if it was worth it. Would they lose everything they had worked for in the pursuit of love? The first book in the missing alpha’s series. The Dead Alpha (Book one) The Long-lost Alpha (Book two) The Missing Alpha (Book three)

Ariel Walker marries Jayson Larkin to save her adoptive brother. For three years, their marriage is kept a loveless, passionless secret. On the day she's diagnosed with a terminal illness, her husband sets off fireworks with his mistress to celebrate. When her adoptive brother is released from prison, he announces that the woman in his arms is the love of his life! Ariel decides to stop waiting when she sees the usually cold, stoic men boldly declare their love for other women. She gets a divorce, quits her job, and severs ties with her family… She picks up the pieces of her dream and goes from being a scorned housewife to a technological expert! One day, her secret identity and terminal illness are exposed. Her unruly adoptive brother comes to her with red-rimmed eyes. "Ari, can you call me your brother again?" The usually cold, ruthless Jasyon goes insane. "I'll give you my life to make up for what I've done, honey! Don't leave me…" Their love is too little, too late. Ariel has long since stopped caring…

DE GUIA SERIES 2: Love is Dead Cheating is never in Alyson's dictionary. Kilala siya sa angkan ng mga De Guia bilang dakilang Ambassadress ng Pag-ibig. Kaya naman emotera siyang nag-itim at nagpa-reserve ng puntod nang madiskubreng niloloko siya ng nobyong si Ramon - ang lalaking tunog-kanto ang pangalan pero may abs. Ang malaking problema niya: Paano siya magwawala at maghihisterya sa pait ng pag-ibig gayong Triple A lang ang karakas ng baterya niya? Sino ang tutulong sa kanya sa paglilibing ng feelings kung buntis at baliwag ang masasandalan niyang pinsan na si Erin? At paano siyang hindi madi-distract sa aali-aligid na bigote at abs ni Noonie Valderrama? Love is dead. Or does it really die?

Alpha Darell doesn't want a mate, and neither does he want to settle down as a family man. “Why have a wife when you can have many girlfriends?” He'd normally say. And unsurprisingly Darell's 27th birthday, which is also his Mate Selection day, becomes the happiest day of his life. Why? The Priest says his ordained mate is dead. But this joyous day soon becomes Darell's worst, when he meets his so-called dead mate—A vampire woman who had just woken up from a deep many years ago.

From bestselling author Emily Goodwin comes the epic start to a sexy and exciting paranormal romance series... Never trust a vampire. I might have learned that lesson the hard way. But when I find myself in a vampire-owned bar, I don’t have much of a choice. With vampires still trying to assimilate into mainstream society, I’ve done Lucas King a favor by stopping one of his patrons from draining a human dry in the basement of his bar. A favor he'd prefer to repay in bed than in kind. Vampires and witches have had more than a jaded history, and when witches start showing up dead in surrounding covens, all signs point to something old and powerful. Something that knows the ways of the witches.Something--or someone--like Lucas. What's worse than trusting a vampire? Falling in love with one.Dead of Night a vampire/witch romance and is book one in the Thorne Hill series.

At my engagement party, a female dog was sitting on my fiancee’s seat. Her guy best friend, Ryan Anderson, was holding the leash. “Bro, don’t take it personally. Your fiancee drank too much the night before at her bachelorette party, that’s why I’m letting her sleep in for a bit longer.” Everyone looked at me mockingly as they laughed. I felt as though someone had slapped me. All the guests had arrived, but Lily Smith showed up late. “It’s our engagement party today. Are you asking me to marry a dog?” I asked as I suppressed my anger. Lily grabbed Ryan’s sleeve and glared at me impatiently. “What are you talking about? Ryan saw that I was too tired, so he let me rest for a bit longer. Are you seriously offended? “As my fiance, you should be more understanding, like him!” It felt ridiculous and wrong to me. My heart sank as I stood up. “Fine, since he treats you so well, you should marry him then!”

ini adalah cerita asli yg aku buat sendiri karena aku penggemar dari cerita cerita zombie jadi aku memutuskan untuk membuat novel nya , harusnya buat komis tapi karena buat novel lebih mudah jadi di buat novel aja * dunia sudah hancur berantakan akibat wabah zombie ini ada seorang pria bernama ardlick yg bertahan hidup*

Grim Marie knows far too much about the wolves of the world, a world where little girls go missing. After all, she had married one before she/he showed his claws, and what that wolf did to her little girl was unforgiveable. Grim Marie isn’t certain if she can ever forgive herself for putting her Little Aleta in harm’s way. When Grandmother becomes ill, Aleta offers to take the bus through the concrete forest to Grandmother’s house to bring her some goodies. She knows the way. What could possibly go wrong? In this modern day retelling of Little Red Riding Hood, the wolf takes to the city streets to capture his prey, but the hunter is close behind him. With Grim Marie on the prowl, the hunter becomes the hunted. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

My father died of esophageal cancer. For the final two years of his life, he could barely swallow anything. By the time he passed, he was nothing but skin and bones. The first New Year after his death, he came to my mother in a dream. "I'm starving," he said. "I just want to taste the thick-cut steak you used to make." My mother believed it without question. That very day, she pan-seared a large platter of steak and carried it to his grave. The next morning, she suffered a sudden heart attack and died on the spot. Devastated, I handled my mother's funeral together with my husband. That same night, my husband dreamed of my father as well. "Chester," he said, "I haven't eaten in so long. I want your pâté, served with some strong liquor." When my husband woke up, he bought the finest liver pâté, opened a bottle of single-malt whiskey, and went straight to the grave. However, not long after returning home, he collapsed from acute liver failure. He was rushed to the ICU and died three days later. I was on the brink of collapse myself. I left my daughter in the care of a close friend while I tried to handle the endless wave of tragedy. That evening, my daughter never came home from school. I searched everywhere, and finally, on the road to the cemetery, I found her. She was clutching a bowl of spicy stew, several grilled sausages floating in the broth. "Mom," she said, "Grandpa and I used to eat this all the time. I dreamed he said he was hungry." I finally lost it. I knocked the bowl from her hands and carried her home. That night, my father appeared in my dream once more. "I suffered so much while alive," he said. "Have some pity on me. "New Year's is coming. I want to come home for a meal. Make sure you cook fish." I woke in terror. Holding my daughter, I sat before the three framed portraits for two full days without eating or drinking. On New Year's morning, I realized she was no longer breathing. Clutched tightly in her hand was a packet of spicy dried salmon. I could not believe it. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother, her eyes red with worry, said she was going out to buy steak.

On Christmas Eve, my six-year-old, Yule, was dying from cancer, and all he wanted was a gift from his dad dressed as Santa. I called Peter, my husband, begging him to come. His reply? "Can you stop blowing up my phone? I don't have time for this! I'm helping Tracey find Puffy. Do you know how upset she is?" Oh, Tracey. His first love. And Puffy? Her dog. I told him Yule might not make it through the night. His response? A straight-up dagger: "Don't act like this isn't your fault, Freya. If Yule hadn't kicked Puffy, none of this would've happened. Tomorrow, make sure he apologizes to Tracey." Then he hung up. That night, I sat with Yule, crying as I helped him celebrate his last Christmas. By morning, Peter's social medias were still full of posts about that freaking dog. Mine? Yule's obituary. Ten years of marriage, gone.