Eat Healthy Quotes

On the third day after my death, Eliza Sutton received the call to claim my body. She was resting in another man's arms. She said nonchalantly, "He's dead, huh? Just cremate it and call me afterward." My body was fed to the flames and reduced to ashes. When the staff were done, they contacted Eliza again. Irritation flashed in her eyes as she snapped, "I heard you. I'm on my way."

I used to be the most promising composer of my generation. But while I was working on my latest piece, my husband Charles Lambert's childhood friend destroyed everything I had. She slashed my face, stole my compositions, and set fire to my house—leaving me to burn alive alongside the kitten I'd just adopted. Then, as if my death were just a spark for her success, she posted my compositions online, claiming I'd plagiarized her. And people believed her. Everyone did. Strangers on the internet sneered and spat my name, and my own husband, Charles, chose to believe her over me. Even the International Musical Society rescinded my award and handed it to her without a second thought. My students, who once followed me loyally, were now fawning over her. I became the laughingstock of the entire internet—mocked, discredited, erased. It wasn't until a week later, when someone stumbled upon the charred remains of my lakeside studio, that they found what was left of me.

WARNING ️ RATED 18+ VIOLENCE AND EXPLICIT CONTENT “I killed the Alpha. My mate. My son’s father. And I would do it again if I had to.” ----- My father was a powerful Vampire, my mother a rogue wolf...my blood tainted. Not only was I not fully part of both worlds, I was seen as an abomination. I grew up as an abomination. Hated by both sides. But everything changed when I met Alpha Maverick. He showed me kindness, gave me a home, made me feel like I belonged for the first time in my entire existence. But sometimes the worst monsters... Are the ones who smile first. I survived cruelty. I endured torture. But when he came for my son.... I ended it all.

“No! Please, Santiago--” I whimpered, as his hand seized my wrist with an iron grip, yanking me forward, dragging me effortlessly toward the chair he had pulled into the center of the room the night before. The symbol of my humiliation. He stopped right in front of the chair, spinning me around, facing him. "You want me to be your monster, mi ángel?" His hand grabbed my throat, tilting my chin up until my eyes locked with his dark gaze. I flinched from the sudden movement. "Cause I’ll be your favorite monster — just say the word, cariño." Santiago’s face hovered only inches from mine. His lips so close, I could taste the sweetness of his breath — once making butterflies take flight in my stomach, now curdling my insides into a cold, suffocating fear. Slowly, his free hand rose toward my face. I held my breath. His touch was deceptively soft and gentle, caressing my cheek. His thumb lingered against my lips, tracing them slowly, his eyes fixed there as he spoke — his voice soft, yet heavy with menace. "Divorce is not an option, mi amor. We took a vow five years ago. Remember?" He finally lifted his gaze to meet mine, catching every flicker of fear before he delivered his last words like a verdict: "Till death do us part."

Arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, Mafia/cartel romance As the only daughter of the Kansas City capo, at eighteen years of age, I was given to the son of my father’s consigliere, a man who was expected to accomplish great things for the famiglia. Things didn’t go the way we planned. There wasn’t love. My husband was a traitor, taking part in a coup against the famiglia. He’s now dead. I’m free. Until the fateful night my brother, our new capo, informs me that I’ve once again been promised in marriage. He explains that as a childless widow and the daughter of the late capo dei capi, I am desired. Requested. Aléjandro Roríguez is the son of the leader of the Roríguez cartel. My brother married a woman from the cartel, securing the Mafia/cartel alliance. He says that it’s now my turn. I’ve only met my future husband a few times, but I know without a doubt that I don’t like him. Loving him is impossible. I’ve lived in a marriage without love. I won’t do it again. Aléjandro lives a dangerous existence. Death saved me once before. Maybe it will again. Have you been Aleatha’d?

From Alpha’s daughter to slave. Even the mighty must fall, but Ivy isn’t the type to cower. No, she is the type you never see coming. With Enzo at her side and her tenacious heart, Ivy is thrust into a world that wasn’t meant for her. Enzo worries it’s all too much for Ivy, but there is a storm brewing in Ivy’s heart. One that is fueled by rage and vengeance as they grow closer to their prey.  Ivy will stop at nothing to finish her mission, including seducing the Alpha of the Silvermoon pack. Much to Enzo’s dismay, Ivy enslaves herself to the pack and catches the attention of the Alpha, but he isn’t what he seems and suddenly Ivy is battling on more than one front. One for her heart and one for her vengeance-seeking soul. But what happens when the lines begin to blur and even Enzo can’t pull her out?

After three miscarriages for Xavier Lowe, I see it—my mother-in-law has three years left, my father-in-law nine years, and my sister-in-law two years. I say nothing. After the third miscarriage, my mother-in-law blames me, calling me a curse who "kills" children. My sister-in-law sneers, saying she almost died in a car crash the year I married Xavier—as if my bad luck dragged her down. My mother-in-law snaps, "She can't even keep a child. It must be because she's cursed!" Xavier just stands there, silent. He doesn't say a single word for me. I know that, deep down, he believes that I bring bad luck. Maybe it's also because he already has someone else—his secretary, Yvette Snyder. His mother has always liked her better, and he clung to her the night I lost my third child. I don't explain because I know the truth will only destroy them faster. On my 28th birthday, I catch a glimpse of my own countdown in the mirror. On that day, I take a leave of absence. I go to the funeral home and pick out an urn—pure white, just like the wedding dress I once wore. Wearing a beautiful floral dress, I text Xavier, asking him to meet me at the lake where we first met ten years ago. I wait from daylight until nightfall as my countdown ticks to zero. I die, and he never shows up.

Is it possible to fall in love when you don't know what love is? Turns out it is. Chiara had no idea what love meant, she could not comprehend complex emotions. She had lived her life based on logic and certain principles, until he comes in and the sensible way no longer seem right. Murder came easy to her, it was like breathing, yet she could not kill him. For the first time ever, she could feel and it was all because of him. Feeling was something unexpected and strange, it was something she could not control, yet she wanted it. Nothing would make her give up the feeling, not even him. She was everything he despised, covered up in an alluring beauty. Death surrounded her, it lurked around her and so did he. He ought to stay away from her because she was a psychopath, but he could not. There was something about her that attracted him, pulled him in when he should have been repulsed. He hated her with about the same amount of passion that he loved her. Everything about her made him crazy, but he was ready to be crazy for her.

Sinovia Amora Villarreal, a girl that only dream is to make her parents proud of her. She will do anything to make her parents notice her, even they will decide to arrange marriage her to a guy that she didn't even know. How will she cope up with the situation? Will she accept what's happening to her life or for the first time in her life, she will refuse what her parents want?

Abductors bind me in a basement, subjecting me to the torment of dozens. Meanwhile, my husband, Evan Foster, dines by candlelight with his lover, Carmen Locke. My abductors grant me one chance to call for help, and I dial Evan's number. I'm certain he will come for me. I believe Evan would give his life for me, as he once vowed that his future held no meaning without me. Clinging to hope, I call the number etched in my heart. However, Evan scolds me for interrupting their date. "You think I'll come get you? Dream on. Maybe I'll bother to collect your body if you die out there." His words crush me, and I do die. Five days later, Evan stands before the autopsy table, grimacing at the mangled remains before him. Even as the police department's finest forensic expert, having dissected thousands of bodies, he condemns the killer's brutality. Yet, despite his cold dismissal of my desperate plea over the phone, he now wears a look of pity. Evan, if you knew these fragments belonged to me, would you still find me worthy of your compassion?