Hand To Myself

“Isabella you are too tempting I can't control myself around you, so if you think that we are going to be friends forget it, it's not happening I want you as you want me, and your reactions today have given me confirmation that you carve for me too. Break off your engagement to Alex and be my woman, I promise you, you will not regret it. We can be together for as long as it last.” He whispered huskily. His last sentence shattered the illusion around Isabella and she stared at him with a confused expression and said. “No, I can’t.” “ Can’t or won’t, Isabella," He said and started kissing her passionately. ******************************* Isabella was proposed by her best friend Alex Waltz but she rejected him, as she had always loved him as a friend. But after he made a deal with her, she agreed, as she had her own reasons for the arrangement. But soon Adam, Alex’s business partner walks into their lives and she realizes that she was getting more and more attracted towards him. Adam on the other hand thinks that she is a gold digger and got engaged to Alex only for his money. But he couldn’t resist her charm and gets attracted to her and gradually becomes obsessed with her. And in between their love triangle Alex’s ex-girlfriend, Gracie returns back and claims that she is Adam’s girlfriend. Isabella falls in love with Adam but before she could realize it her past comes back knocking at her door. And when Adam realizes his true feelings for her she had already left.

Did the goddess make a mistake or was I destined to suffer or should I just make a way for myself to be happy. These are questions Jane must answer while she still breathes in order not to make any mistakes or regret living.

I thought my life was sorted. I have a sweet fiancé Marcus, a cozy apartment and my wedding Pinterest board on lock. As The classic good girl, I saved myself for marriage, never gave anyone trouble and always made safe choices. That was until I met Marcus’ dad Victor. He is tall, suave and deliciously charming. Everything about him turns me on without trying. Just one handshake and my body lit up like fireworks. I panicked and told myself it was hormones. I avoided him like a plague and even gave Marcus my virginity few months to our wedding but it didn’t work. One girls’ night and one weird-tasting drink, I find myself in his bed begging like I’d lost my mind while he ruins me for his son. Now I dream him every night while Marcus snores beside me like nothing’s changed. He has no idea I’m picturing his father when he touches me and that it’s his dad’s name I’m biting back when I come. I tell myself in the mirror every morning:
“Stop! You’re not this person.” But the second we’re in the same room? My willpower cracks. This isn’t cute at all. It’s messy, embarrassing and terrifying.
 The safest choice feels lonelier every day and the dangerous one feels like I’m finally breathing. What am I to do when the person I’m supposed to marry isn’t the one setting my body on fire and the one who is happens to be the last man I’m allowed to want? How long can I keep this affair hidden from Marcus when the wedding is so close and Victor is determined to have not just my body?

Kill or be killed: That was the motto of a predator and a prey. Turns out that was the same motto in love and relationships. Walking in on my fiancee making out with someone else was the last straw it took for me to break but to save myself the humiliation, I couldn't let the huge proposal I had planned out go to waste. What happens when the stranger I had forced a ring on turned out to be the Capobastone of the Ndrangheta Clan? Even worse, my ex boyfriend was involved in the mafia and the stranger was his boss. Fate twisted and lies were uncovered and I was caught up in a little cat and rat chase with a Mafia boss and there was no hope for me getting out. His words sealed my fate: "Now i didn't force this ring on myself, you did. Might as well add more meaning to it.”

I woke up again to find myself locked up in a cage like an animal. That is where I always find myself after wining an almost loosing battle which involve's me having possession of some powers I have no knowledge of. I would remain in that cage with no food nor water but I survived anyways. Who am I? I am neither a human or an animal, I am both. I have elf ears, carrot nose, legs like that of a horse, got human breast though hairy and I have a hole. Wondering what I am? well I know not either, guess I just have to keep breathing until the day I meets the wizard again. My name is Special and this is my story....

I overslept and ran into my slacking boss at the diner. I was totally flustered, stumbling over myself, while he awkwardly tried to play it cool, rooted to the spot. The next day, rumors spread around the office that we were secretly dating…

"No... No, you can't..." The patient says his desire is a little too strong and wants me to use my body to help him for a medical checkup. He then makes me lose myself in the moment in just a few moves...

In the fifth year of loving Gabriel, he inherited his late brother’s title as Vampire Lord— along with his brother’s widow, Chloe, the former Blood Queen, and, by blood and law, my kin-by-covenant. Every time he returned from her chambers, Gabriel would hold me gently and whisper, “Isabella, Chloe is only my Chosen Consort. Once she carries and delivers the Scion of the Blazetooth Coven, I will bind myself to you through a Blood Bond.” He said it was the only condition his family demanded for him to ascend as Vampire Lord. During the six months after we returned to Blazetooth Coven, he answer her summons a hundred times. At first, once a month. Then once a week. And eventually, every single night. On the hundredth night I stayed awake waiting for him, Chloe finally conceived. The news arrived together with another announcement— Gabriel and Chloe would soon be bound by Blood. My son looked up at me, confused and innocent. “Mom… didn’t they say Dad would form a Blood Bond with the Blood Queen he loves? Why hasn’t he come to take us home yet?” “Because,” I said softly, brushing my hand through his hair, “the Blood Queen he loves was never your mother.” “But that’s all right,” I added. “I’ll take you home. Our own home.” What Gabriel never realized was this— as the only daughter of a reigning Vampire King, I had never cared for the title of Blood Queen of Blazetooth Coven at all.

Once I begged for your love while our son drew his last breath. Now watch me take back everything you hold dear. The first time, I died on a rain-slicked road with my four-year-old's name on my lips and my husband's rejection still burning in my chest. Silas Vance took three years from me. Three years of existing like furniture in his mansion while he draped Clara over his arm at every gala, every interview, every moment that mattered. When our son needed him, really needed him he let my calls go to voicemail. Thirteen times. I counted. Our son didn't make it through the night. Neither did I. Then I opened my eyes. Two years earlier. Divorce papers on the nightstand. My son's laugh echoing from down the hall. This time, I won't beg. Won't wait. Won't shrink myself small enough to fit in the shadows he assigned me. This time, I'll become someone he doesn't recognize. Someone who smiles at his enemies, steals his deals, and dismantles his empire while he's still searching for his meek little wife. When he finally figures it out—when he's pounding on my door, begging for answers, desperate for a second chance? I'll hand him those signed papers and remind him: Some deaths are just the beginning.

My husband had a severe addiction for physical intimacy. However, in the seven years of our marriage, he never touched me, not even once. To suppress his urges, he soaked himself in bone-chilling ice water every night. His arms were covered in needle marks from constant injections. It broke my heart to see him like that. I offered myself to him many times, but he insisted on simply giving me a restrained kiss on the forehead before saying, “Don’t be silly, Summer. I’m not like those animals. How could I ever bear to hurt you? For you, I’d gladly live the rest of my life in a platonic marriage.” This strange, almost obsessive restraint of his lasted seven years. Despite the numerous times he pushed himself far enough to end up hospitalized, he still refused to cross that line. Then, on our wedding anniversary, a young woman named Anna Brandt came in for her ninth hymen restoration surgery. After the anesthetic was administered, her cheeks flushed red. As her mind grew hazy, she started crying weakly like a lost kitten. Looking at the love bites scattered across her body, I shook my head and assumed she was just another girl who had gone astray. That was until I heard her last tearful whisper. “John Shaw, you jerk.” My hand trembled and I nearly dropped the scalpel. Because my husband’s name also was John Shaw.