Novel & Cerita Firestar Doesn T Like Waffles

After six years by Archie Valez’s side, everything changed when his uncle died—and Archie took over the family legacy… and with it, the responsibility of caring for his “young” aunt, Betty Cruz, whose age was practically the same as Archie’s. Still, whatever Betty wanted, Archie delivered. I just never thought it would include a baby. Betty said she wanted a baby with the Valez bloodline. And with the uncle gone, Archie was the only one left to do the job. So he gave her that, too. “Just wait a little longer,” he would say to me, “Sabrina. As soon as she’s pregnant.” What started as once a month turned into once a week… Then it became a nightly routine. Of almost eight months that we lived in New York, Archie went to Betty over a hundred times. And she finally got pregnant. Shortly after, the Valez family announced that Archie would be marrying Betty. “Mommy,” my daughter asked softly, climbing onto the couch beside me. Elly—our Elly. My Elly. The daughter Archie never had time for. “Is someone getting married?” I held her close and kissed her hair. “Yes, sweetheart. Daddy’s finally marrying the love of his life.” Elly blinked at the screen. “But what about us?” I smiled. “We’re going home, baby,” I whispered in her ear. Archie forgot that I was Sabrina Marcellus. And the Marcellus women didn’t beg for rings. And certainly not love after betrayal.

My fiancée, Rachel Evans, was in a car accident before our wedding and had just woken up when I rushed over to the hospital. The bridesmaids surrounded her. "Rachel, you're finally awake! Your fiancé, Nicholas Shaw, was so worried when he heard you were in a car accident that he cried!" said one of them. "Now the wedding will have to be postponed." "Who's Nicholas Shaw?" Rachel asked with a frown. "Where's my boyfriend? Where's Jordan?" A hush fell in the ward as soon as those words fell. My face was pale as I stood in the doorway, for I knew very well who she was referring to. She was talking about Jordan Baxter, her first love.

The book is the first-person account of a young biracial Mexican and African American woman, Evelyn Rosalyn Amiss. She repeatedly transports in time between her home in Texas and then Newark, New Jersey to different time periods. She meets and helps some of her ancestors along the way. This is my first journey into a fantasy, time travel novel. I hope you stick around for each riveting, historical and spicy page turner. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living, or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Three days ago, I almost died. A birthday cake was needed for my sister, Rosa Esposito's birthday, so my dad told me to pick it up. He claimed that this was my way of making it up to Rosa for accidentally spilling coffee onto her new dress. When I was cornered in an alley by the thugs, I was in the middle of sending Rosa an apology text. They covered my mouth and dragged me into a van. That was when I heard them say, "Yup, that's her alright. That's the bitch named Rosa Esposito." I shook my head, trying to explain that I wasn't Rosa at all. But my name didn't matter at all when blows started raining down on me. That was how I spent the next three days in living hell. By the time I wake up in the hospital, my phone harbors a new family photo sent by Rosa. It features my dad, my older brother, Rafael Esposito, as well as my husband, Enzo Vitale. All three of them can be seen surrounding Rosa. When I was in the middle of getting pinned on the ground while feeling blades slashing my skin, these people were celebrating Rosa's birthday happily with her. Later on, Rosa smiles at my face. "Do you have any idea how much I hate that face of yours? I also hate how much better you are than me as well as the fact that everyone likes you more than me! "That's why I've robbed all of their love from you… be it Dad, Rafael, or your husband! You, on the other hand, deserve to be alone till the day you die!" At that moment, I've made three choices. First, I forge a miscarriage report. Next, I place a signed divorce agreement into a giftbox. Finally, I dial the number of my mentor, Sofia Bianchi. There, I agree to participate in a classified project research that will last for ten years without getting in contact with anyone. Since then, I, Valentina Esposito, have never existed in this world.

My roommate had a peculiar knack for pestering everyone into liking her posts on social media, all so she could collect enough likes to claim some prize or another. It was her way of life—nagging, nudging, and guilting us into clicking that little thumbs-up. One time, the campus beauty queen liked my roommate's ad for a facial mask. Not long after, she was in a horrific car accident. The vehicle caught fire, and her face suffered severe burns, leaving her disfigured beyond recognition. Meanwhile, my roommate seemed to undergo a miraculous transformation, her complexion turning porcelain fair and flawless as though she'd been kissed by the heavens. Then there was the academic prodigy, a shoe-in for graduate school, who liked her tutoring service post. Shortly after, he was exposed for academic fraud, and his once-brilliant reputation was reduced to ashes. Strangely enough, my roommate's research paper suddenly won an award, catapulting her to fame and fortune. And me? I fell into her trap too. I liked her rental agency ad, and before I knew it, my world crumbled. A scandal erupted, revealing that I was the result of a mix-up at birth. It turned out she was the long-lost child of wealth and privilege—a hidden gem cast into the rough, now reclaimed by her rightful family. As for me, I was packed off to the countryside village she had escaped from and forced into a brutal marriage with an old man. My life became a living hell, and eventually, I died there, broken and forgotten. But fate wasn't done with me yet. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day my roommate begged me to like her post in exchange for yet another prize.

> “Stay still, Little Thorn… I want to taste you slowly.” His voice was velvet and ruin. His mouth, a weapon. And I—fool that I was—leaned closer. Before death wore a suit and called itself a lover, I used to believe in beauty. Before the blood. Before the runes. Before I painted the image that killed my parents—I believed my art could save me. Now I know better. I was just weeks from graduating when the painting came to me like a fever. I didn’t choose it. I didn’t plan it. My hands moved, possessed, dragging symbols I’d never seen and a face I’d never forgotten—his. Eyes red as wine. A crown pierced with thorns. And a girl in the center… me. Offering herself. I signed it with a mark I didn’t recognize. I sold it to a stranger. And days later, my parents were dead—no wounds, no reason, just... gone. The police said stress. I say fate. Now I’m being hunted by a world I didn’t know existed. Vampires with ancient courts and older grudges. Symbols that whisper in my blood. And Lucien D’Aragon—the vampire who says I summoned him with my brushstroke. That I belong to him. He says I’m his prophecy. His ruin. His Little Thorn. But I’m not just prey. Something is waking in me. Something hungry. Something I was never meant to survive. If I give in, I lose everything. If I fight, I might finally learn the truth. About my art. About my bloodline. About what really happened that night. And why he keeps whispering that I was painted for ruin... but made for him.

During my wedding, which is livestreamed all over the world, my fiancé, Marvin Keller, calls me a shameless woman who's gotten pregnant out of wedlock. Then, he calls off our engagement and marries my father's illegitimate daughter, Delilah Lambert. My mother is so incensed by this that she gets a stroke and ends up bedridden. Amid my despair, my childhood friend, Tristan Wright, proposes. He tells me he's had a crush on me for many years and is willing to treat my child with Marvin as his own. I'm moved by Tristan's promise and accept his proposal. Three years after we get married, I give birth to a stillborn. My mother is still in a coma and doesn't seem like she'll ever wake up. I'm hospitalized after getting into an accident for the eighth time. That's when I overhear Tristan's conversation with a private doctor. Finally, I discover the truth—he's never loved me. "You orchestrated eight accidents just to make sure Delilah would inherit her family's fortune? Are you out of your mind?" "I've done Lethia wrong with this, but I'll use the rest of my life to atone for my sins. She should be satisfied with that."

After being reborn, I tear up my school withdrawal form. I no longer wish to become a househusband just for Eliza Stewart's sake. She messages me when she hears the news, but I blacklist her number right away. She camps outside my house to confront me, so my family and I move to a new place immediately. Eventually, she compromises by asking me to join her in Northcrest for college. That way, I can still take care of her. I go behind her back and apply to be an education major at Southwell University instead. In my previous life, she dedicated herself to everything and everyone else, except for me. This time around, I just want us to go on our separate paths and never meet again. A few years later, I set off for the rural region of Westridge to volunteer as a teacher. Eliza, who is also volunteering there, sees me. Her eyes start turning red. She grabs my hand and refuses to let go. "Don't run off this time, Matthew…"

To Be Loved Like This tells the story of Raegan, a woman who finds herself, not in the innocence of first love, but in the aftermath of becoming. Through the weight of loneliness, past wounds, and lives already lived, her self worth grows into something rare: a love that is steady, intentional, and safe. This is not a story about being saved, but about being chosen. It's about what happens when love shows up softly, stays, and proves that healing doesn’t have to hurt.

I stumbled upon my neighbor Henry and his girlfriend in the middle of something awkward. My face immediately flushed bright red, now that I had just turned eighteen. With my parents away on a business trip, they had asked Henry to keep an eye on me. But in the dead of night, I discovered him involved in something... something too awkward to mention.