Good Haircuts For Fat Guys Novels & Stories

Police officer L. Vos saved Sofia Sullivan five years ago from the father of her child, Gael Cliff, a wicked man, who threatens to harm her and her son. After his brave action, L. Vos sacrificed his own life to keep her safe, making deals within a very dark world and quitting his job to become someone else. She didn't know what happened to him after she was saved; she only wanted to see him one more time to thank him. When their worlds meet again, the beautiful Sofia feels that her chance to say thank you has come, but she never thought she would find the same man being another person. There was nothing left of that good officer. Nonjocular look nor kindness. Now he exuded impertinence and coldness. However, despite the shock of the encounter, life kept under its sleeves a great attraction, as strong between them as the power of the dark secrets he always hid. What will Sofia do when she discovers the truth of that coldness? How will Leonel keep her away and safe from all that darkness? This is a novel of drama and action, romance and eroticism, where the evil of the good reigns to preserve life.

What happens when a wedding planner has to work alongside a temperamental and annoying bride's brother to plan the wedding of the year? Chaos, pure chaos. The last thing Violet needed was a man to touch her slightly not so flat stomach (or perhaps it was a little more than slightly not to flat) and press her against a wall. She wasn't a model, and she knew it. So naturally, she just sucks her stomach in. Violet prided herself on creating the best weddings society has ever seen, the last thing she needed was to go head to head with the bride's brother, when planning Melbourne's biggest wedding of the year. Alex was everything Violet could dream about, but not touch. Handsome, built straight out of a magazine with the six pack. Was his interest in Violet genuine, or just another charm for the bedrest?

Tess betrayed by her boyfriend left the city without telling a soul, with only one thing on her mind, “revenge”.

On the day of my daughter Eleanor Baldwin's second birthday party, my entire family stood nervously by the banquet hall entrance. They were not there to greet guests, but rather to keep me from showing up and causing a scene. Mom's face was written all over with anxiety. "Lucas wouldn't actually crash the party, would he?" Dad's brow stayed tightly furrowed. "Who knows? That disgrace of a son is capable of anything." My younger brother, Cody Baldwin, had his arm wrapped gently around my wife, Kendra Clarkson, trying to reassure her. "Don't worry. If Lucas dares to show up, I'll keep you and Ellie safe." Kendra nodded slowly. "If it really comes to that... maybe we should just let Ellie be his goddaughter. At least then, we're still family..." However, the party came and went, and I never appeared. I had already made up my mind to join a classified national defense research program. Only this time, it was for good.

Susie Chance always claimed to value fairness above all else. Because of that, she ordered a specially designed chip implanted into my body. Whenever her childhood sweetheart suffered bouts of stomach cancer, all his suffering would be transferred onto me. On the day he underwent tumor-removal surgery, I collapsed in agony in the hospital corridor. Meanwhile, Susie gently comforted him in the ward. “So? It didn’t hurt at all, right?” Later, she said she wanted to hold a wedding with her childhood sweetheart, so he could experience being a groom as well. “Even though the one marrying me is Mark, the one I’ll register with in the future will still be you. I told you… I’ve always treated you both equally.” I said nothing, simply returning the wedding ring she had once placed in my hands. However, when the wedding march finally began to play, I boarded a one-way flight far away.

After being away for three years on a special mission, I saw a prenatal examination report on the passenger seat of my CEO wife's Maybach. Fiona Geller told me, "My sister died so young. I must leave her a child. It's just a test-tube baby with my brother-in-law. It's not an affair." The brother-in-law in question, Phillip Stanton, sent Fiona's pregnancy photos to my parents, mocking me for using his sperm to produce a baby with Fiona. My parents suffered a heart attack upon learning the news and were hospitalized. Fiona looked aggrieved. "Don't get so worked up, honey. One of the twins can have your surname!" I looked at her, completely giving up hope. I then called the unit.

My CEO wife, Vivian Lynch, suffers from chronic insomnia and can only fall asleep with the pillow mists I make. At our seventh wedding anniversary dinner, her male best friend, Earl Cain, pours a basin of hot water onto the old cypress tree in the backyard. I rush to save the tree in tears. Earl gets on his knees and apologizes, "I'm sorry, Allen. I did not know that you use this tree's leaves to make the pillow mists." Vivian comforts him gently and orders her men to tie me to the trunk of the tree. She says with a scoff, "If this tree is so precious, then you can spend your life guarding it!" After I hurt my hands from this ordeal, the first thing I do is to demand a divorce. On one night a month later, Vivian, who is unable to sleep, goes to the backyard and sees the withered old cypress tree there.

My husband insisted that I wear high heels at the company’s annual meeting despite being pregnant. He compared me to his female secretary with a look of disdain. "Can’t you learn from Lucille? She’s eight months pregnant and still comes to work in full makeup, handling her tasks efficiently. If you don’t wear them, don’t go. I’ll be embarrassed!" He even tried to give the high heels to his secretary and take her as his date. Left with no choice, I forced myself to wear them. However, on the balcony, the secretary tripped me, spilling red wine all over me. Limping, I found my husband, only for him to sneer, "Tripping on flat ground? How clumsy!" Furious and pale with anger, I turned to leave. Someone urged him to chase after me, but he only got angrier. "How bad could it be? She’s so timid—she can’t survive without me! Just wait. When the event’s over, she’ll definitely be waiting in the car to drive me home." Alas, he was wrong. I turned and went straight to the hospital for an abortion.

He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly. “Celeste, you know Isabella has been sick for years.” “Yes, I know,” I said bitterly. “I know because you remind me every single day.” He ignored the edge in my voice. “She’s not getting better. The doctors said she probably has a year left.” I swallowed hard. “And how does that concern me?” “She has one last wish,” he said quietly. “She wants to get married before she dies.” He wants to divorce me and remarry me after a year, but that’s nonsense! I’m tired of this marriage. This divorce isn’t a joke to me; I’m taking it seriously.

My competitive eater classmate, Selina Reeves, bound me to a fat transfer system. No matter how much food she ate, I was the one who gained weight. Later, she was named one of the top 100 food bloggers while I ballooned to 200 pounds and lost my job. My boyfriend did not seem to mind. He even proposed with unwavering confidence. A month later, Selina entered a competitive eating contest and devoured 20 pounds of ribs in one sitting. The excessive fat intake triggered acute hypertension, and I died on the spot. My husband inherited my substantial fortune, then turned around and married Selina without a second thought. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself three months in the past. Selina's food streaming career was just starting to gain traction, and I still weighed 90 pounds. This time, I snatched the ten-inch cake right out of her hands and ate every last bite. She had no idea I had bound myself to a food transfer system. No matter how much I ate, it would transfer to her stomach tenfold.