Greek Prayer Bracelet

When our marriage contract expired, I found out I was pregnant. Charlie Newman’s voice was icy. "If it’s a boy, we’re even." I asked quietly, "And if it’s a girl?" He paused–then said coldly, "Then we keep trying until you give me a son." I sighed. Three years of marriage couldn’t compete with the need for an heir. However, one night, when I went downstairs for water, I saw him kneeling in the attic, eyes devout, voice trembling. "Merciful God, please grant me a daughter. If you hear my prayer and make my wish come true, I will give generously to your church and serve you faithfully all my life."

I am not the type of girl who attracts men, my life is not very social and my best friend is my cat Salem. He dedicated me to writing, hanging out with my brother and sometimes with my few friends. Everything was normal until that Valentine's Day where everything changed for me. Two men burst into my life as if they were earthquakes, their auras indicating danger and they enveloped me in their life as if I had belonged there. My mother always said that men with tattoos were danger and a problem for girls. But these two Greek gods got me and now I'm part of the mob. This is my story

Tunnels deconstructs the individual’s Romantic fascination with ‘love’ or the grammaticality of beauty. Ideally, the ‘tunnels’ in the collection are subterranean love poems from the suburban imaginary. These seemingly syntactic tunnels travel through one’s literary imagination or heterotopic dreamscapes, and while αγάπη (Greek for ‘love’) inspires these rhizomic tunnels to navigate the abysmal ‘meta-spectacle’ of gesture, language or moment of poemness, the mind like the many-colored jeepneys of Manila, where driving past roast goose restaurants in Shek Kip Mei or spotting stilt houses in Kampong Kleang, attempt to explore the transgeneric textualities of the everyday, alongside the unstructurality of time and space, the littoral and the liminal.

Broken vows don’t necessarily mean a broken marriage… Electa Leventis meant every word of the vows she shared with her husband Adrastos at the altar. Pity he didn’t return her sincerity… Expecting happy-ever-after, instead, Electa found herself going through a mortifyingly public separation! Now, divorce papers in hand, Electa has finally built up the courage to put an end to her time as the mighty Greek billionaire’s wife once and for all. But she’s forgotten the magnetic pull that devilish Adrastos possesses. And that broken vows don’t necessarily mean a broken marriage…

Eros is his name which was derived from the Greek god of love that was also known as "The Cupid". However, his name is a total opposite of him. He hates romance and all kinds of stuff which relates to passionate and intimate love. Other than that, he's also an aspiring mystery/thriller writer who is dreaming to be a famous and successful author someday. But his path to achieve his dream became mysterious, much thrilling and unexpectedly romantic when the cupid which turn out as a ghost named Shawna suddenly appeared in his room and force him to write a romance story for her.

Lillian's world turned upside down when she caught her longtime boyfriend cheating. Fueled by anger, she sought revenge in a drunken one-night stand with a stranger, only to discover he was Ryan Sinclair, her new boss! Her real nightmare began when Ryan, who seemed more like a Greek god than a possessive devil, unwilling to let her go and started luring her into his twisted game. Now, she was struggling to keep her distance from her charismatic but dominating boss. Little did she know, there was a hidden secret behind his every move, and Lillian was in for a rollercoaster ride of intrigue and deception.

“Spread those legs for me, Yulia.” Nikolai’s voice is a command, not a request. They say the devil doesn’t come with horns or fire, but mine came in the form of my husband. Nikolai Romano is ruthless, cold, and obsessed with a woman he met in a secret club… a woman he’s been searching for ever since. He never saw her face, only a bracelet she left behind. I was never meant to be his bride. I was the replacement. Offered up by the family who took me in when I was an orphan, all because their real daughter, Elena, didn’t want him. To Nikolai, I’m nothing more than a duty. A punishment. A body warming another woman’s place. But secrets have a way of bleeding through the cracks. What happens when Elena realizes the man she rejected is the very one she’s always wanted? And what will happen when Nikolai discovers that the real lady he’s met in the club… has been beside him all along?

Inka was known to be a successful woman. She worked hard for it because she believes that one day, those who had belittled her and left her behind would regret the things that they did to her. Read wasn't the type of guy that changes women every night. He is a man with dignity and morals yet behind his Greek God physique and unreadable eyes is a life that revolves around blood, guns, and brotherhood. What will happen if Read had set his eyes on the most successful woman of all time? Would he take the risk and love her till death do they part? Or would he just forget about it because of his dark life?

Just a few days before my wedding, I accidentally come across a post while scrolling online. The title reads, "To the guy getting married in this city, your fiancée's already cheated on you." Curious, I click in to see the gossip, only to realize I'm the one being talked about. A deep male voice plays in the video. "I heard you're getting married?" The woman in the frame, bare-backed and trembling, chokes back a sob. "After you left, I realized you're still the one I love most. I'm done with him. Take me away, please!" The moment I hear her voice, it feels like someone punches me straight in the chest. Then I notice something on her wrist—the luxury couple's bracelet I gave her just yesterday. And in that instant, I feel like the biggest joke of all. Turns out the fool was me.

“God—” “Not God,” he muttered against my neck, biting the skin there. “Me. Say my name.” “Dorian!” I cried, back arching. “That’s it.” He stroked faster, his thumb teasing over the tip, slicking me up. “Good boy. Take it.” Ezra Monroe was raised to be pure. The perfect choir boy. Twenty-two and untouched—soft voice and eyes that have never looked too long at sin. But one man ruins everything. Father Dorian Vale. The moment his eyes meet Ezra’s, something snaps. And a good boy learns how to kneel for the wrong man. He was supposed to guide him to heaven. Instead, he’s teaching him how to sin. He’s not here to save Ezra. He’s here to ruin him. Slowly. Until every prayer sounds like his name.