Drew Mcintyre House Mga Nobela at Kwento

Every time the housekeeper came to cook, she brought her daughter along. I felt sorry for them — single mother, no support — so I never said a word. Until one afternoon, I pulled out the chair at the head of the table and found a note taped to the back. It read: "Freeloaders aren't allowed to eat here." I tore the note off and turned to the housekeeper. "What is this supposed to mean?" The girl shot me a look of pure contempt and let out a cold laugh. "You're just a maid. You sponge off other people's homes day after day — how are you not ashamed? If you can't afford food, go beg on the street. People like you, mooching off everyone, make me sick." I stared at her, completely thrown. The housekeeper rushed over and lowered her voice. "Ms. Wolfe, my daughter doesn't know I'm the maid here. She saw how hard I work and felt sorry for me — that's why she put up the note." "And she has serious germophobia. She can't stand eating with strangers. Wait outside until she's done eating. Don't come back in." Before I could answer, she shoved me out the front door. The door slammed shut behind me with a final bang. I stood there on the steps and calmly dialed the police. "Hello. There's been a break-in at my home. Someone's locked me out. I need an officer here now."

She had just one job. To fill in her mother’s role at work while her mother's boss, Jordan, searched for a replacement. Filling his head and heart wasn’t part of the bargain.

"I warned you, Lena. No man touches you except me. You're mine now, let that stick." That was his first warning. Delivered with a cold stare and a voice that didn't allow defiance. "Now, I'm going to fuck you till every other man looks like a woman to you." That was her punishment, and she couldn't even lie to herself about how much she enjoyed it. Abandoned by her father, Lena Anderson, whose dream was to become a surgeon, never planned to end up in a mafia-owned strip club. But when your sister is diagnosed with cancer and your mother can barely walk because of a stroke, you do all it takes to keep them alive. All it took was one night to change her entire life. She didn't plan on killing her first VIP client. But when he forced himself on her without permission, she made sure he never touched anyone again. It wasn't her intention, nor was it getting caught. But she was. Not by the police. By someone ruthless, Lucano Baricelli, her boss, heir to the Baricelli family. A mafia don. A man known to break bones before asking questions. He should have turned her in. Instead, he offered her a deal. Pretend to be his wife for five years so he could win his father's trust and take over the mafia empire. In return? He keeps her out of prison and makes sure she never lacks anything. She accepted. But there were rules. Never get pregnant. Never be caught with any man. Rules are made to be broken, so they say. Lena Anderson broke both, and it drove Lucano nuts.

There was a time when the famous young actor Andrew Cortez dominated the movie screens, commercials and model runways in the Philippines. He was in his peak of career, enjoying the free life and fooling around uptown girls. When all he thought he'll be playing around rich girls then he met Pia Drew Barcenilla, an heiress like the ones Andrew dated. However, Pia Drew, unlike all the other rich girls who were demure and soft-spoken, was blunt and emotionless. Pia Drew's cold treatment towards Andrew landed her the job she definitely hated. As they finally got along, Andrew and Pia Drew fell in love but their romance did not sail even with power and money. After Pia Drew's short exposure to the limelight, they both went back to their own separate lives. Years later, fate brought them back together. Pia Drew sketched Andrew's dream house and soon they started building it together. They were in love and living in the moment when they met an accident. Pia Drew laid in coma and Andrew has to live his life alone, unsure of tomorrow. Five years later, Pia Drew woke up and remembered nothing. It was then that Andrew realized money and power don't stop anyone from suffering. Now, Andrew stood in front of his unfinished house he had been building for the last five years. He found it hard to decide on how he would continue building it when the one he had built it for and with for years couldn't even remember they were building it together after all. Andrew has to spend his lifetime understanding the fact that Pia Drew's memory is never coming back.

A San Francisco boy. Famous actor and model. Renowned playboy. Damaged lover. And a heartless robot. He needs to fix his reputation. I need money for my sister's treatment. Everything about us is fake ... but sometimes the line between fake and real can get blurred. Enrique Blackburn turned himself into a robot. Untouchable. Emotionless. The quintessential bachelor of the silver screen. He doesn't do love. He can never say the words. Especially not to me, his contracted phony girlfriend. But despite the consequences I let him take my breath and steal the things I know. Like fire on fire, he burns himself into my heart. And that's the last place I want him to be. We made an arrangement. We agreed to a contract. No sex. No love. No relationship. Can I unfold him? Can I make this real? Can I make him find his heart? But most importantly - can I make him say the words?

It was almost New Year. I had just withdrawn money from the bank when I noticed that the amount on my passbook didn't match the cash in my hand. I counted carefully—my passbook showed a different figure than the five thousand dollars I was holding. Frustrated, I turned and went back to the counter to find the teller who had handled my transaction. Clutching the receipt, I tried to be polite. "Excuse me, I think there might be a mistake with this transaction." Instantly, she snapped, pointing her finger at my nose. "Don't you know that once you leave the counter, we are not responsible for any discrepancies?" I waved my hands, trying to explain. "No, wait, look again. I clearly withdrew five thousand dollars, but on my passbook, it shows…" She cut me off impatiently. "When you filled out the form, it was all right there. Once you leave the counter, it's not our problem. You signed the form yourself, confirming everything. Are we supposed to correct it every time someone claims a mistake after leaving the bank?" I froze. No wonder she kept repeating that the bank isn't responsible after leaving the counter. She thought I had come back to ask for more money. What I was really trying to explain was simple: I withdrew five thousand, yet my passbook showed that I deposited five thousand.

The Huntress - Luna Eileen follows a young Celtic witch living with her coven in the wilderness of Alaska in the late 1960's. She is about to find out that the world is far stranger than she or even her elders ever believed. Celtic gods, werewolves, and more come together in this witchy romance.

Hi there. Have you ever heard of the San Francisco Boys? No? That’s surprising. They’re kind of hard to miss — masks, billions of followers on YouTube, death-defying stunts that make your heart stop mid-beat. Reckless. Untouchable. Addictive to watch. Yeah … those guys. BUT … these stories ain’t really about them. Not exactly. They’re about the girls who get pulled into their chaos … and survive. About what happens when one of those boys stops being a legend… and becomes your worst mistake. How do I know? Because I’m one of those girls. Melaena Angélica Blackburn. A girl who fell for a San Francisco boy. Damion Grimm. All-time playboy. Professional pain in my ass. Double world champion. Thrill chaser with a death wish and a god complex. He lives by the rules — HIS rules. Ride hard. Screw fast. Feel nothing. That’s how he keeps his demons on a leash. He doesn’t do blondes. He doesn’t do promises. And he sure as hell doesn’t do me — his best friend’s little sister. He shattered me first. And I’ve hated him ever since … or maybe I just needed a reason to. Because hate starts to feel a lot like something else when it burns hot enough. But … the Blackburn name is cursed. My psycho grandfather? Yeah. Even death didn’t shut him up. Old enemies crawl back. Secrets crack open. Monsters rise. And I've learned real fast that evil doesn’t always look like a monster. Sometimes it wears a familiar face. Control slips. Lines blur. Fate? She’s a cruel bitch. But I’m not the girl who breaks. I’m the one who burns. And I’m going to break every damn rule to get what I want.

'IT' knows what's scares you... Janice Ross finds herself behind bars for the crimes that she claims she didn't commit. Coincidences were a part of books until they entwined with demonic power and uprooted the lives of young teenagers who face the wrath of wrong choices. Her life took a turn for worse when, even in prison, the evil plagued her dreams. The bizarre circumstances of Janice Ross's encounters intrigued Byron, a true-crime writer. Not believing the strength of the ancient curse, he proceeds to investigate the story and caught up in a series of horrific evidences that turns his life on its axis. Together, Janice and Byron have conjured hauntings that rival reality and uncovers the truth. Will Janice escape her fate or will Byron become another victim of the broken night.

In the dark of night, they come to life. Whispers through haunted tombs. Cackles beneath a dreaded moon. Malevolent spirits from the twisted mind. Be mindful of whose door you knock on. A reaper may greet you. For those that care of Halloween scare, abandon intent and take the dare.