Novelas y relatos de Historia

(World A) Female lead: Olivia Smith Intro: The heiress of Smith corporation, long brown hair that reached down to her waist line. Deep black orbs. Beautiful porcelain skin which aided her slim sexy body in mesmerization to onlookers. Full brow, long butterfly wing-like lashes and a full rosy red lips. She's rude, proud and spoiled rotten, but isn't an idiot and can't be messed with. She's well trained in martial arts and the use of weapons to protect herself, as the road ahead to inherit her family's business isn't easy.

"She was... every man's dream woman and one man thought himself lucky to be her beloved but that relationship wasn't meant to be because she'd been destined for another by the gods." "Can I give it a title?" She looked up at him. "Sure." "How about Destined Hearts?" She beamed. "Or… His and Hers?" "Nice. I like it." "Go on." "Unfortunately... Her kingdom has been at war with another one for ages. They were so far gone that no one actually remembered the reason for the war in the first place." He said. "It came to a time when a hunter got carried away on his hunt, crossed the border into enemy territory and killed an animal on that land and he was beheaded."

More adventure await, hopefully they overcome it or Maybe not. The End

"So, tell me about your classes. What are you most excited about?" Arina visibly relaxed, grateful for the change in subject. "I'm really looking forward to the art history class. I've heard the professor is amazing," she replied, her enthusiasm returning. "My baby," Rosella whispered fondly, a smile tugging at her lips as she watched Arina's eyes light up with excitement again. "I'll call you tomorrow, Mom. Good night," Arina said softly, ending the call and sinking into the embrace of sleep. As Arina drifted off, her mind wandered back to the haunting memory of her encounter with Ryan. Despite the passage of three months, the memory of his determination to possess her still sent chills dow

My family, the Volkanov's, and his family, the Mennetti's, have been rivals for hundreds of years, going all the way back to Prohibition. At this point, I'm not even sure what the feud is about. I know Trish and I are on the same page and all we want to do is bury the hatchet. But nothing is ever that easy. There's so much history and hate which makes me wonder if it will ever be possible for our families to let go and move on.

Hannah said, without a trace of the fear she harboured toward that thought. "It goes back to the legend. About seven hundred years ago, the Athànatoi and men lived together––" "I know this part, I have a book, a book on the Athànatoi, hold on it's in my rucksack." She ran upstairs to get it and in minutes was back, the old brown book in her hand. She handed it to Martha when she got back, who regarded it with curiosity.

I leaned into him, resting my head against his chest wrapping my hands around his torso listening to his heartbeat. "Talk to me then," I whispered and he went silent for a couple seconds before saying. "You know when I was younger my dad always told me stories about how my mother left, he used to tell she choose another family over us and that she didn't love us anymore and when I reconnected with her and I saw her with her family I assumed it was the truth,"