Every Inch Of Me Is Full Of Pain

I chase my six-year-old daughter out of the house on a cold winter day. I cut her new clothes to pieces and dirty her dainty little face with mud. Then, I give her all my savings. She looks at me tearfully and reaches out for me, wanting me to hold her. However, I harden my heart and push her away, saying, "Leave! Go to Bowen Group and look for their CEO, Logan Bowen. Show him my death certificate and your DNA test—he'll take you in." She sobs while looking at me. "Don't you want me anymore, Mommy? Let's go look for Daddy together." After a brief silence, I say, "I can't go with you. I lied to him back then to have you." Yes, I'm a liar. I orchestrated everything from meeting Logan, dating him, to ultimately leaving him with his child in my womb. Even the death certificate I've given my daughter is fake. From beginning to end, I've lied to him about everything except our daughter.

The story of 'EVERY WOMAN CANNOT BE PRETTY' is a message to millions of women around the world who feel inferior due to their average looks that ‘ Beauty is not in the face alone.’ The protagonist in this story, Sarah Liam suffers from PCOS ( Polycystic Ovary Syndrome) with side effects of being obese, acne prone and having more than normal hair growth on face and body. To top it she is short in height and has a prominent mole on her chin. In all, she is not what one can call “pretty”. Her husband wants to use her as a sex toy, her best friend betrays her trust by sleeping with her husband. Faced with treachery by loved ones, shunned by many, at the brunt of the unkindest of jokes, the story shows how Sarah manages to rise like a Phoenix, hold her head high and eke revenge on the people who have cheated her, solely with the strength of her talent and grit. But with her flawed appearance, will she ever find true love? Can she ever aspire to marry a handsome man or will she have to settle for someone similarly flawed? Read on..

When D.C. lawyer Hannah McCrae heads home for her brother’s wedding, she’s dragging a lot of baggage along with her—and she doesn’t mean suitcases. Betrayed personally, and humiliated professionally, the last thing she wants is a new man. That’s fine with square-jawed, rugged contractor Calder Blue. He and Hannah may be wildly attracted to one another, but all he wants is to build the town’s hotly contested new yacht club and mend a centuries-old family feud. Yet thanks to resentments old and new, day after day the pair wind up tangled in each other’s business—and maybe soon in each other’s arms. Every bride needs something “blue”… Includes a delicious wedding cake recipe!

I threw myself into the sea out of despair. Unexpectedly, I returned to the fifth year after I became mates with Alpha Ethan Grant. Ethan is my mate. He is the strongest Alpha among all the packs. Our son, Chester Grant, inherited his bloodline. Like Ethan, he is a powerful, unyielding, born leader. To the world, I am the noble Luna. I am the one every she-wolf envies and strives to be. Yet, the first thing I did was venture deep into the forest where a witch lived. I asked the witch for a bone ring that would sever the blood bond with Ethan and Chester. "Wear this, and the bond between you and your mate and child will gradually sever within five days. The process is painful and irreversible. You mustn't regret it," the witch says. I immediately place the pale bone ring on my finger. While enduring the pain that pierces directly into my soul, I reply while trembling, "I will never regret it." Ethan's first love is Angelina Lark. In my previous life, Ethan permitted her to dethrone me from my Luna position. I was also injured in the process. Additionally, Chester complained that my scent was repulsive and called Angelina "Mommy". So, in this life, I don't want my mate or my son. I just want the freedom to live my own life. But after leaving, I hear that the strongest Alpha and his heir are searching the world with soldiers in tow. They swear to find the Luna who had taken their hearts.

One week before the wedding, I accidentally came across a copy of my girlfriend's abortion procedure report. She always insisted she was uninterested in being intimate, yet behind my back, she had secretly aborted another man's baby. Instead of questioning her, I quietly put the report back where I found it. For the next week, I went along with the wedding planning, picking out the outfits and rings. But on the day of the wedding, the bride, waiting endlessly for the groom who never came, lost her mind.

On the way to a dance competition, a massive truck rammed into me. My legs were shattered, and my mother was sent flying from the impact after she tried to protect me. My stepbrother, who was also my secret boyfriend of six years, went crazy after hearing the news. He had the driver dragged off to a lawless borderland and called in the best doctors in the country to save me and my mother. Not many people knew, but I was born with a rare sensitivity to pain. The more it hurt, the clearer my mind became. That was how I ended up lying wide awake on the bed, listening to Luke Quinton and his friend, Harvey Lane, talking just outside my hospital room. "Luke, are you sure about this? You really want to let Queenie practice on Natalie's mother's heart?" "She deserves it. That vile woman seduced my father and drove my mother to her death. If not for revenge, do you think I'd stomach being with her daughter for six years? "She should be honored that Queenie is dissecting her heart. Keep it from Natalie for now. If she loses it, she might ruin my wedding with Queenie. What would I do if that happened? The only woman I'll ever have as my wife is Queenie. No one will ever take her place." So, that was the truth. What I thought was a love strong enough to defy the world had been a lie from the very beginning—just a carefully crafted act of revenge.

After my father's Beta killed him, I ran away and lived my life as a human. It wasn't much, but my life was my own and I liked it that way. Until one night, when I decide to take a shortcut through wolf territory and I'm captured. Expecting to go to the dungeon, the Alpha presents me as a potential mate to the mysterious and reportedly cruel Lycan King, Bowden. He takes me from my home and brings me to his kingdom where I'm expected to live as his mate. A mate he doesn't even want. I didn't sign up for this life. I don't want any of it. Least of all to be some king's dutiful and submissive mate. I'm just waiting, biding my time, until I can run away and join the human world again. ** "You know what…I'm done. I'm leaving Bowden's eyebrows pull up in amusement. "Are you now?” "Yes. Try to stop me.” He stands aside. "I won't stop you. Go. Goddess knows, I could use a little peace and quiet." I start to leave, but before I even reach the door he calls out. "Oswald!” The guard opens the door without any delay. "See the queen to her room and lock her in for the night," Bowden orders. "I thought you said you wouldn't stop me." I spin around and glare at Bowden, furious with him for changing his mind. "I won't…but Oswald made no such promises." The king nods at the guard who simply steps outside and closes the door behind him again. "Don't play games with me, little wild child. I am far more experienced than you'll ever be, and this is a game you'll never win. You are mine, and you are going nowhere.”

Falling into a forbidden love is a lot painful. Especially when you made a person your eternity while you're just a passing moment. There is only one person Beatrize hates the most. Simoun Alexander Hord, the man who ruined her life. Falling in love with him was her most terrible mistake. But what if Simoun begs for a second chance? This time, he’s ready to lose everything just to get Beatrize’s forgiveness. After all her pain, will she be able to forgive him?

“I, Caleb Dominic Asher, reject you, Scarlett Rose Davis.” Those words were the most heartbreaking words that I'd ever heard and yet, they didn't sound foreign to me. It didn't come to me as a surprise either. Yes, werewolves were destined to be with their mates but we weren't destined to be. It hurt, but I'll take this pain.

Four days after my death, my four-year-old daughter finally sensed that something was terribly wrong. The fridge door slammed into her forehead when she tried to get a snack. Normally, I would've been there in a heartbeat—arms open, kisses ready, whispering, "You're okay, sweetheart, Mommy's here." But this time, I just lay on the bed, cold and still.​ She didn't understand. She thought the sweet treat would make me respond. So she held the final piece of chocolate up to my mouth. "Here, Mommy. Have some chocolate..." But I didn't even blink. She climbed into my arms, clutching my clothes tightly. "Mommy... Mommy, wake up..." She waited for me to stroke her hair, to tell her that everything was going to be fine. There was only silence.​ Completely lost and scared, she found my phone. "Daddy, why is Mommy still sleeping?" she asked, her voice filled with desperation.​ In response, Oliver sent a photo of himself having Christmas Eve dinner with his childhood sweetheart. His voice was icy cold when he replied, "She's just sleeping, not dead. It's Christmas Eve, and I'm busy. Tell her to stop playing games and come apologize when she's done sulking." Then he hung up.​ But when the truth finally hit Oliver—when the coroner's report came, when the police knocked on his door right in the middle of his laughter, when he realized I'd been lying dead for four days while he toasted—he broke.