How Many Chapters In The Shining

What if time was running out? but love wasn't? In a world where moments matter. love in the present is a beautiful exploration of love, loss, and living in the 'now'. Dive into the captivating story of Jackie Leigh Villamor and Aireshi Takahashi as they uncovers the true meaning of love and living in the present.

As soon as I kissed him, he pushed me aside, got up from the bed and walked over to the other end of the room. He suddenly seemed angry but I didn't understand why. Was it the kiss? Was it me? "You know what? Maybe we should do it some other time instead." He suggested. He began to sweat and was acting strange; like someone who was afraid of something but what he was afraid of, I couldn't tell. "Some other time?" I asked frustratedly because it wasn't the first time he was rejecting me. "I'm tired of hearing this bulshit over and over again." I wasn't going to take a no for an answer again, not this time. So, I walked over to him and claimed his lips for the second time. "Stop! He yelled at me in anger as he fell to the ground. He started groaning, rolling around in the floor like someone in pain. I was terrified by the scene and didn't know what to do. Next thing I knew, i heard the snapping of his bone and right before my eyes, he transformed into a creature; a creature I had seen before. The same type of creature that saved me on that fateful night. He stood before me with a raging red eyes and seven-inch long teeth. My mind was in distress and my knees gave way as I fainted from the shock.

“You’re useless.” I lift my head, wrists aching where the rope bites into skin already numb from the cold. My father stands over me, his shadow long and sharp in the firelight spilling from the clearing behind him. I can hear the celebration. My sister’s laughter. The pack chanting her name. “I tried,” I say. My voice cracks, and I hate it for that alone. “I did everything you asked.” He scoffs. “Everything?” His gaze drags over me like I’m something rotten. “If you’d done anything right, your mother would still be alive.” My chest burns, each breath a knife. “She chose—” “She died because of you,” he snaps. “Because you were too weak to protect yourself. Too weak to be worth the trouble.” I swallow, tasting blood. “I’m your daughter.” “No,” he says coldly. “You’re a reminder of my failure.” He turns away, already done with me. “Be grateful I’m hiding you instead of killing you. An Alpha can’t afford dead weight.” The rope tightens as he knots it higher, out of reach. He doesn’t look back. Behind him, the pack howls in celebration. I lower my head and let the tears fall silently into the dirt because crying is the only thing they haven’t taken from me yet. But as the night deepens and the forest breathes around me, something else stirs—slow and patient. They call me useless. One day, they’ll choke on that word.

It was the climactic moment of my game, but the enemy's flash bang blinded me. After I reopened my eyes, I found myself in the world of the post-apocalyptic underdog comeback story I'd ranted about to my friend the day before. No, I wasn't the protagonist with a cheat for a system. Instead, I was the cannon fodder who suffered the worst fate. He also had my name. I found myself locked outside the armored vehicle while a swarm of high-level zombies had surrounded me. 'Blast,' I thought. 'All this just because I flamed them? And I just made a pentakill after my 8-win streak!' I told myself to calm down and let my mind do its work, but then the laughter of this body's wife echoed from the walkie-talkie. "Stop covering for him, gunners! We're livestreaming to the whole camp. My husband's going to rip these Tier Six zombies to shreds!" Then, the woman's useless male best friend buzzed with excitement. "I'll have a permanent spot in the inner city if he distracts the horde and they rip him apart in the process, babe!" If this went the way of the original story, I'd beg for help only to get no answer and be ripped apart by the zombies. Fortunately, I wasn't the same coward this guy used to be. The woman kept egging me on. I sneered. I didn't spend years playing competitive games for nothing. And so, I grabbed a high-frequency concussion grenade that could get the attention of every single zombie in a 3-mile radius, smashed the ventilation valve of the armored vehicle, and hurled the grenade inside.

Morgana James is the cold and calculating mobster who has been given the mission to end the life of the detective hunting the organization. Driven by her duty, Morgana eventually becomes William Bale's secretary. She just couldn't imagine that he was that handsome or that his eyes were capable of making her heart soar. Suddenly, her mission became difficult to complete, for the first time. For, she didn't want to do her duty, she actually wanted to taste the lips of the handsome detective, William Bale.

A kind of story where in it all started in the club. They were so happy, not until that day when it all ended, also in that club where they're love story began

Law enforcement agent Jerome Sandro gave three years of his life to build a case against a man he believes to be a monster. Days before the trial, everything is at stake, including his life. He's on the run and doesn't know who to trust, including the alluring federal prosecutor, Anna Steve He needs to know whose side she's on, and he needs to know now. Even if it means kidnapping her. The road to truth will be naughty.

Yesterday, my name was Elizabeth Summers. I was 43 years old with a good job that I didn’t like much, but it paid the bills. When I woke up today, I was told my name is Kimberly Sparks. My birth certificate says I’m 24 years old. I don’t have a job or a place to live. But there’s a seriously hot guy taking me home with him. Elizabeth Summers died yesterday in a terrible fire and Kimberly Sparks was born. But I’m not a phoenix; I’m a werewolf. Who knew?

"Aku akan menemukanmu. Tidak peduli berapa lama dan berapa kali mencoba, aku akan kembali dan mencoba lagi hingga semuanya bisa berakhir bahagia."

My husband's childhood sweetheart kills my parents in an accident due to drunk driving. I want to call the police, but my husband blindfolds me and takes me to the cellar. I'm tormented and subjected to inhumane treatment for the next three years. After each torture session, an icy male voice will ring out in my ear. "Do you still hate her, Sabrina?" One day, I finally cave and submit to the icy voice. "No, I don't. I don't hate her anymore!" I hear my husband's joyous laughter on the other end of the line. On the day he welcomes me out of the cellar, I avoid his embrace. Yet he loses his mind when I ask him for a divorce.