Gifts For Grumpy Old Man Novels & Stories

He opened the box and read the letter inside. It said: I married you to fulfill my dreams, but little did I know that you would become the man of my dreams, Alessandro. Fate has its ways of weaving two people together and separating them as well. I just wanted to say, thank you, for everything. And sorry. Sorry that I couldn't gain your trust. Sorry that the only thing that you experience when you see my face is, quoting you, pain, betrayal, and regret. But you can stay happy now since this is where our journey ends. Lastly, a confession, every touch, and every kiss meant something to me… With affection, Your Tesoro. As the letter slipped from between his fingers and flew down the sky-high building, he laughed, hysterically, knowing that this was the end of their marriage. Amber Williams, an ambitious twenty-three-year-old woman with dreams of establishing an art gallery spins herself in a web of secrets, drama, and lies when she agrees to a contracted marriage with the cold-hearted mafia boss, Alessandro Bianchi. Will she melt his cold heart with her fire? Or will the flames burn them both?

Devya, a cheerful and childish woman, meets an Axen, a CEO who is a lonely Werewolf who can't express feelings like ordinary people, he's a Werewolf without an expression on his face. "Go." Axen orders in his stern voice made me frown in annoyance. “After you stole my first kiss, you asked me to leave?!! Bastard!!” I ruffled the bed, I threw all the pillows on the floor in a rage. "Asshole!!!!” I saw him come back closer to me, he again locked me under his body, he touched my neck with his cold fingers. I'm in an awkward situation and it makes my heart beat fast.

As usual... Same answer to the same question asked. Cold, hard, dull and dry and cracked just like arid lands... How are you, however, is a normal question. The answer given in return is usually "I'm fine" and it is a clear answer that will follow. After that, the conversation would go away, but the young man's voice froze both the time and the atmosphere with his answer. The conversation was limited to a few short words, and that was what he wanted anyway...

Maya’s world shatters when she discovers her husband, Daniel, celebrating his secret daughter, forgetting their own son’s birthday. As her child fights for his life in the hospital, Daniel’s absences speak louder than his excuses. The only person by her side is his brother, Liam, whose quiet devotion reveals a love he’s hidden for years. Now, Daniel is desperate to save his marriage, but he’s trapped by the powerful woman who controls his secret and his career. Two brothers. One devastating choice. Will Maya fight for the broken love she knows, or risk everything for a love that has waited silently in the wings?

The King of the West, Lord of the Shadow Sect, and God of War—Howard Lincoln! Five years ago, Howard's adoptive father and his entire family were killed. Narrowly escaping from death, Harold was saved by Tania Jenkins. After that, he was taken away by a mysterious man and entered the military camp by chance. Five years later, a text message brought the God of War from the blood-soaked battlefield to the mundane world, and only then did Howard realize he had a daughter. Since then, the skillful warrior turned into a doting father, protecting his family, fighting other influential families, battling fiercely, and paying back both the good and the harm.

The moment my sister brought Daniel home so the family could meet him was the day I knew I had to make him mine. He looked like he was written by a Latin God, six feet four, perfect for my height of five feet nine. He had jet black hair and he knew what he was doing when he wore that tight T shirt that hugged his muscles, sitting across from me on the dining table.

"Mommy, you have to be the first person to come pick me up, okay?" These are my daughter Dorothy Grant's final words to me when she walked me out of the house this morning. But when I stand at the kindergarten's entrance with a box of Dorothy's favorite strawberry shortcake in my hands, the security guard just stares at me as though I lost my mind. "Ma'am, this place might be where Sunflower Kindergarten is located, but it has already closed its doors for three years. This place is now a retirement home." I rush into the "kindergarten" instantly. The spot where the slide used to be is now replaced by a row of flowerbeds. The room that used to be the classroom now hosts a bunch of elderly people, who bask in the sunlight. With trembling hands, I call my husband, Chester Grant, on the phone. He sounds very exasperated and exhausted over the phone. "Honey, we've been married for five years, and we choose to be childless. You've never given birth before."

I'm finally pregnant after five years of marriage. I initially want Morgan Holt to accompany me to the hospital so I can surprise him, but he stoically tells me that he hates hospitals. I can understand and accommodate that. Then, he surprises me—he accompanies his new junior to the hospital for a medical checkup. At that moment, I know our relationship is over. When I bid him farewell, I say, "She's your true love's younger sister, right? I can understand why you've transferred your love to her. I wish you two well." His eyes redden. "I can't live without you."

By my third month on the job, I discovered that my coworkers had been calling me "the old crow" behind my back. The nickname came from none other than Jace's condescending secretary—because at 32, I was still clutching onto an eight-year relationship that hadn't ended in marriage. I confronted Jace. "Do you know your employees have been calling me the old crow?" He didn't even bother to look up. "That's just Sadie—she speaks her mind and means no harm. You're 32; why get so worked up over what a young girl says?" Then he gave me a faint, mocking smile. "Though honestly, it's a pretty fitting nickname." It felt like a cold hand had wrapped around my heart. So that was it—eight years of my youth, nothing more than a joke to him. I turned and walked away, handed in my resignation, and blocked every way he could reach me. But for the first time, the man who had always seemed so calm and untouchable finally panicked. "Elara," he pleaded, "please come back."

I was three months pregnant when our enemies ambushed me on a private drive in Manhattan’s East Side. A bullet punched through the window. Glass buried itself in my shoulder. With the last bit of strength I had, I hit the Moretti family’s encrypted distress signal and called my husband, Adrian Moretti, for help. He didn’t come. Later, I found out he had pulled the Moretti family’s best trauma surgeon and security detail away that night to stay with his old flame, Evelyn Langdon. She had just lost her husband. She was carrying his child. She said a nightmare had left her gasping for air. I lost our baby in the emergency room. When I woke up, the first thing I saw was Evelyn’s new post. [Some people don’t need to ask. He’ll still drop everything and come running. Thank you, A. You always know what I need most.] In the photo, Adrian was kneeling by her bed, fastening the ruby necklace around her throat. The same necklace he had promised me for our tenth anniversary. I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I called Professor Clark. “Professor, I’ll take the classified seat at the Artemis Northern Institute. Start the Black Ice Protocol. Wipe my public identity as soon as possible.”