Harry Potter Cards Chocolate Frogs

As the college entrance exams approached, I paid the top student in our class to tutor me. But the day she came over, she brought along her childhood sweetheart and insisted that he join our study sessions. I declined her request politely, and she did not press the matter further. The boy left my house in defeat and was struck by a car, suffering injuries so severe that they left him crippled. He could no longer continue his education and was forced to drop out, taking on grueling manual labor to survive. The girl continued tutoring me nonetheless. We both gained admission to the same university, grew close over time, fell in love, got married, and started a family. But on the night of our wedding anniversary, Sharon slipped poison into my soup and watched impassively as I began to convulse and vomit blood, the crimson stain spreading slowly across the floor. "This is what you owe Harry," she said with cold venom. "Taste what it's like to lose all hope." It turned out that she had harbored resentment toward me for all those years. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day she first came to my house with her friend.

Christian Knight was about to marry Andrea Donovan and start a fresh life. Andrea was a gorgeous and respectable woman. She liked Christian since her college days but couldn’t muster the courage to express her feelings to him, as she knew that Christian was interested in Diana Roger, the mute girl. Years later, destiny played cupid for Andrea and Christian, and their families fixed their marriage. Andrea was over the moon, and it was hard for her to believe that Christian was finally going to be her forever. *** To escape the haunting nightmares and hallucinations about one particular woman, whom he thinks he has never met before, Christian agreed to marry Andrea as she was beautiful, smart, and a generous woman, completely compatible with his status, but little did he know that meeting with a stranger at the Coffee House will change everything for him. *** What will happen when destiny plays its cards? Would Christian be able to accept that he had been married before? Will he choose his present over his past or follow his way back to his former wife? Would Mishka be willing to give another chance to Christian or she has already moved on in her life? Will their love pass the test of time and commitment to come out victorious or did their love story end long ago? Follow the other half of Christian and Mishka’s tale to witness if second chances really exist or if healing a broken heart is beyond repair. All Right Reserved © Author Anika 2022

Four days after my death, my four-year-old daughter finally sensed that something was terribly wrong. The fridge door slammed into her forehead when she tried to get a snack. Normally, I would've been there in a heartbeat—arms open, kisses ready, whispering, "You're okay, sweetheart, Mommy's here." But this time, I just lay on the bed, cold and still.​ She didn't understand. She thought the sweet treat would make me respond. So she held the final piece of chocolate up to my mouth. "Here, Mommy. Have some chocolate..." But I didn't even blink. She climbed into my arms, clutching my clothes tightly. "Mommy... Mommy, wake up..." She waited for me to stroke her hair, to tell her that everything was going to be fine. There was only silence.​ Completely lost and scared, she found my phone. "Daddy, why is Mommy still sleeping?" she asked, her voice filled with desperation.​ In response, Oliver sent a photo of himself having Christmas Eve dinner with his childhood sweetheart. His voice was icy cold when he replied, "She's just sleeping, not dead. It's Christmas Eve, and I'm busy. Tell her to stop playing games and come apologize when she's done sulking." Then he hung up.​ But when the truth finally hit Oliver—when the coroner's report came, when the police knocked on his door right in the middle of his laughter, when he realized I'd been lying dead for four days while he toasted—he broke.

The following book contains mature contents. I laid beside her and turned her body to make it face mine. I slid my one hand under her waist and pulled her even closer to me until there was no space left between us. I hugged her feeling a lot of things; love, care, pain, hate. “Gabriel?” she whispered. “Yes love.” “I Love You!” There. She said those words to me. If she'd said to me before yesterday then I would've been the happiest and most probably the craziest person on earth. I would declare a holiday in the entire city, I would take her in my arms and kiss her until we both run out of breathe, but today, it was different. I felt only pain. “Zayla?” She did not speak. She was already in her wonderland. “I don't want to love you anymore Love.” ------------------------------------------------------------ Her past was a Werewolf, her present is a Lycan. Her past broke her heart, her present deceived her feelings. Stuck in between Worse and Worst, Then and Now, yet she goes for the odd option; end her life and finish everything at once. "Everything will be fine as long as I'm gone." Experience the life of Zayla; a girl for whom luck never favored and no good cards were ever dealt to her, as she is torn in between a Werewolf whom she loved immensely and was her pride and a Lycan whom she trusted blindly and went against all the prejudice. ... Be ready for Pain, Hate, Betrayal and a Love like no other.

Like in the deck of cards, the Ace outranks the King—and so does Ace Salvatore. A Greek-Italian mafia leader feared by all, Ace is a man of unspeakable cruelty, a calculated mind ruling an empire built on blood and terror. His face is a mystery— those who’ve seen it are long gone, silenced by his wrath. Manipulative, controlling, psychotic, and untouchable, he rules his empire with an iron fist, his past buried beneath layers of bloodshed and regret. His obsession with power and control leaves no room for weakness—not in himself, not in his enemies, and certainly not in others. When a desperate debtor can’t repay what’s owed, he offers something unexpected to settle the score: a little girl. Ace accepts the deal, not out of need, but because curiosity flickers in his mind— a curiosity he loathes. Yet the little girl is more than just an innocent. She unknowingly awakens ghosts of Ace’s past— a life of betrayal, loss, and secrets he swore to bury. Even monsters have scars. The darkness that shaped him, the wounds he carries, and the revenge that fuels his every decision begin to resurface. The past never truly stays buried. As their worlds collide, her presence becomes both his salvation and his torment. But as the past catches up, threatening to destroy everything, Ace must face a harrowing choice: cling to the monster he’s become, or risk everything for the one thing he never thought he’d have— a chance at redemption. Will his darkness consume her and change her? Or will she destroy him?

Mom always said my entire life ran on luck. When I ranked first in my class, she said, "You just guessed really well." When I won a gold medal, she said, "The judges must've been blind." When I got into Westridge University, she told everyone, "This kid has no real ability, just good luck!" So on my first day of college, she tossed me a book of scratch cards. "Since your luck's so good anyway, might as well let it handle your living expenses too. "You get one book per semester. However much you scratch off is all you get. "And just so you can't come crying to me about being broke, I'm blocking you now. I'll add you back next semester." With that, she ignored every one of my desperate pleas and blocked me on every single platform. I wanted to cry but could not even manage tears. All I could do was scratch two cards every day. On good days, I would win 20 to 50 dollars. Most days, I won absolutely nothing. I survived by sneaking expired cookies out of my roommates' trash. By the last week of the semester, I had developed severe anemia. As I used every ounce of strength to scratch the final card, I laughed. Mom was right. My luck really was incredible.

She chose his gifts carefully every year. His mother made sure he only received the ones he'd throw away. Faith Blackwood has spent years invisible in her own home, her belongings taken, her voice silenced, her carefully chosen gifts replaced with ones designed to make Harrison look down on her. On the night of her coming of age, fate delivers the last thing she expected: a mate bond with Harrison, the stepbrother who has made her life a misery. Harrison has spent years becoming exactly what his mother shaped him to be: ambitious, cold, and blind to the girl right in front of him. But when the truth begins to unravel, he discovers that everything he knew was built on lies, manipulation, and years of meaningful gifts he was never meant to receive. Sent to the mate cabin for three weeks, Harrison must face what he has done — and Faith must decide whether the boy she once called Harry still exists beneath the Alpha her stepmother created. A silver wolf with a name fit for a goddess. A man who must decide whether becoming worthy of his mate matters more than becoming the Alpha he was raised to be.

The impostor took his own life the day I married Cathy Jones. By the second year of our marriage, we had turned against each other completely because of him. She despised me because my return had driven Zac Lowe to his death. And I despised her for longing after the man who had stolen my name for twenty years. For a decade, we hurled the cruelest words and wished death upon each other until the earthquake came. She shielded me under her body and used her back to bear the weight of the collapsing beam to keep me alive. The ceiling fell. Blood and debris blurred together. As her life slipped away, she whispered in my ear, “If I had known he would die, I would have never brought you home. “If there’s another life, your only family should be me.” In the end, I still died in the aftershock. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day she first took me to meet my biological parents. But she suddenly changed her mind. “Harry, I was wrong! You’re not the son the Lowe family lost twenty years ago.”

My father suffered a heart attack and collapsed. Emergency treatment required the installation of a cardiac stent. I asked my husband to approve an expense of 10 thousand dollars for the surgery. Cameron Lister, the CEO, refused coldly, "The company and family accounts have been frozen recently because of a major project. Your father has medical insurance, so just use a cost-effective domestic stent for now." He was the sole administrator of all the bank cards in my family. His reply made me sorrowfully realize something. Even though I was a genius architectural designer with an annual income of 600 thousand dollars, I was still not worthy of choosing a better life-saving device for my own father. It was a Twitter post forwarded by a colleague, freshly and gleefully posted by the company intern Wendy. [Cameron is so nice. I just said I liked painting, and he gave me a million dollars to organize an art exhibition. I love him so much!] I looked at my father lying on an extra bed in the hospital corridor, groaning in pain, and then looked at the photo of them sweetly embracing each other. I finally understood that Cameron had perhaps never truly loved me. He had only treated me as a stepping stone for his soaring career, and as a tool for him to exploit without limits. 'If this is what you want, Cameron, then don't blame me for being ruthless,' I said inwardly.

In the VIP lounge of an underground casino, Maeve, the Falcone family's princess, had been plied with too much hard liquor. Fueled by alcohol, someone goaded her into revealing the most shameless thing she'd ever done to win over the Don. She swirled her glass, pointed at me dealing cards behind the table, and threw her head back with a laugh. "Seven years ago, when Declan was in a coma after a shootout, I took his private phone. And I deleted the distress message that bitch sent him. Every last trace of it. Then I replied in his name: You're a burden. Go die." "You'll never guess what happened next. That idiot stood outside the safe house all night in a downpour, like a stray dog. I almost died laughing…" The room erupted in crude laughter. Only the man enthroned at the head of the table remained silent. The crystal whiskey glass in his hand shattered with a sharp crack. Blood mixed with the amber liquor, trickling over the veins on the back of his hand before dripping onto the carpet. His murderous, bloodshot eyes were locked on me. I calmly dealt the last hole card in front of him and offered a clean, white silk handkerchief. "Don Declan, you should wipe your hand. Blood on the felt is bad luck." After all, some stains never wash out.