Dream And George Kissing

"Shadows of the Past" is a story about *Natasha Fernandez* (26),the daughter of a billionaire who never enjoyed her childhood due to the loss of her mother and her father's busy schedule. She struggles with health issues and finding true love until she meets *Jamal smith* (29) who rescues her from a robber and becomes her friend, and eventually her husband. Years later, Natasha hires her childhood friend *Imade Martins*(25) a home tutor for her adopted daughter *Tessa* (3). However, Natasha is heartbroken when she discovers Jamal's affair with Imade, and she uses her power to frustrate Imade's business life. Unbeknownst to them all, Jamal is the biological father of Imade's daughter, whom she lost in the hands of a matron to an orphanage some years back. Imade leaves for another city where she falls in love with her boss, Mr. *George Henry,*(34) an influential business tycoon and a single father. Twenty years later, *Roy Henry,* George's son, falls in love with Tessa, Natasha's daughter. However, their love is jeopardized after a family introduction takes place, and complicated truths unravel, putting Tessa's life at stake. The story explores the drama and chaos that ensue as the characters confront their past and navigate their present relationships.

Normani gets back from prison after sacrificing her crown, her freedom for her lover, George O'Neil, she's met not with open arms but with divorce papers and a cheque for a fresh start. Cast aside and mocked by George’s new lover, Becky Finnegan, his boss who joined him to set Normani up. They don't know Normani harbors a powerful secret: she’s a princess of Scotland. She is determined to reclaim her identity and seek vengeance against those who betrayed her. Everything changes when she meets Shawn Matters, a dangerously captivating mafia boss. Their intense connection lights up a passion she never saw coming, complicating her thirst for revenge. Her breath hitches. “You don’t know what it’s like to lose everything.” “Maybe not everything, but I know what it’s like to fight for what matters. Let me help you reclaim your power.” Shawns eyes glowed angrily as he spoke. Normani hesitates, torn between her desire for revenge and the pull of Shawn’s unwavering support. “What if I want to watch them all burn?” “Then let’s burn it down together,” he insists, a fierce glint in his eyes. “But don’t lose yourself in the fire. You deserve to rise from the ashes.”

George Lansbury (22 February 1859 – 7 May 1940) was a British politician and social reformer who led the Labour Party from 1932 to 1935. Apart from a brief period of ministerial office during the Labour government of 1929–31, he spent his political life campaigning against established authority and vested interests, his main causes being the promotion of social justice, women's rights and world disarmament.

For the sake of my happiness with my boyfriend, I decided to go to the hospital to treat my congenital narrowness. But the attending physician turned out to be my boyfriend's friend—and the treatment plan itself made my face flush and my heart race. "During the course of treatment, there will be a great deal of intimate physical contact. That's unavoidable," he said. "For example, kissing, touching, and…"

Jack and Jill, best friends who grew up together in the Old George Orphanage in Omene from young ages. Similar histories, which was no histories at all. Neither knew who they were or where they'd come from before they had found each other at Old George. Thus they were nicknamed Jack and Jill, after their quick friendship with one another. However, the past has a way of showing itself when you least expect it.

Since I was a kid, my parents drilled it in—you're gonna be a Corleone girl, Giovanni Corleone's property. "This is just an alliance. Don't expect anything more." That's what he said on our wedding night. So I played the part—quiet, polished, dutiful. Then year three hit, and suddenly Giovanni couldn't keep his hands off me. Every night, something new. I thought maybe—finally—he felt the same way I had all along. Then I caught him kissing his stepmom. Funny. Just the night before, he told me kissing me made him sick. "I've been practicing with her—for your sake." So yeah. All that heat? Just rehearsal for her. So I ran. Took back my life—and our unborn daughter. The Don lost his mind looking for me. Begged me to come back—with the kid. But I would not stop for him anymore. I turned and walked straight toward the stage that was always mine.

What will you do if one day, you suddenly wake up with ears above your head and tails behind your back? What if you suddenly came back to how you were, 20 years ago, just with different eyes and hair color? Coming home from a late-night party, Tiffany George passed out as soon as she felt the softness and warmth of her comfy bed. She stinks of alcohol, explaining her carefree behavior, resulting into a deep sleep with her corporate attire on. On the next day, a phone call had woken her up. She massaged her aching temples and reached for her phone on the bedside table. She answered it without even bothering to look at the caller ID, her voice hoarse as she said hello. “Ms. George, what time do you think is it?” a cold voice floated over the phone, waking Tiffany out of her daze. She immediately hung-up the call and rose from the bed. But the moment she tried to reach the floor with her feet… she realized something amiss. She touched her face and felt her chest… A long silence ensued before her loud scream filled the entire room.

Audrey Smith, a 21-year-old woman, is the daughter of George Smith, the leader of a mafia gang. Audrey is taken captive by Noah Cyrus after she overhears one of his men on a mission to find his sister. Despite their initial adversarial relationship, Audrey and Noah fall in love and start a relationship. However, their romance is tested when Noah discovers that Audrey's father is responsible for his sister's abduction. Will their relationship survive this revelation? Read to find out...

My sister-in-law sent me a photo of her kissing my husband on the beach. Just a few minutes later, she deleted the photo and sent me a text saying, “Oops, sent to the wrong person. Lol.” I knew it was deliberate. It was never a mistake. She wanted me to see how happy my husband was with her. Clara was never my sister-in-law. Three years ago, my husband had lied about her, claiming she was his younger sister, and I believed him. But after five years of marriage, I discovered—far too late—that Clara was never his sister. She was his mistress, his childhood lover, the woman he had been sleeping with under the same roof as me while making me serve her as if she were truly my sister-in-law. And now what? He had lied again… said he was going on a business trip. Yet Clara had just sent me a picture—a cute, sickening picture—of my husband happily kissing the very woman he had once claimed was his younger sister. The photo carried a timestamp showing the exact time and location. It was real. There was no denying it. They were in Hawaii, on a beach, laughing, kissing, and having the time of their lives… while he had made me believe he was away on business. Without saying a word, I saved the picture and posted it straight to Instagram, captioning it: "Congratulations to my sister-in-law… on finally becoming the official wife.” Then I turned off my phone and went to bed. The next morning, after having breakfast with my cat, Lulu, and taking the warmest bath ever, I turned my phone back on—and froze. Over 200 missed calls were waiting for me. Notifications exploded across my phone. And it didn’t stop there—the number of unattended messages kept climbing past 250.

On our wedding day, the big screen glitched—then flipped to kissing shots of Caleb Gorman and his "girl best friend," Holly Beech. Holly shot up, hand over her mouth, smiling all fake-innocent. "Relax, everyone. We were just messing around. Caleb and I go way back. Guess that makes me wife number two." Caleb smiled, soft like always. "That's just her. No filter. Don't take it seriously." I looked at him. Calm. "She plays kissing pics of you two at our wedding and calls herself your 'wife number two.' That's messing around?" His face tightened. Annoyed. "It's a few photos. We've been together five years. You're really gonna nitpick something this small and not let it—" I raised a hand, cutting him off. "Yeah. I am. I'm not letting it go." That hit him. He wasn't used to me standing firm. I turned to the crowd. "This wedding's over."