Jack Reacher Books In Order To Read

I die in the basement after being burned by acid. My family doesn't recognize me, and they don't call the cops. My mother picks up the scalpel that hasn't been used in years and debones me. My father excitedly mixes my skeleton with concrete and turns me into an exquisite statue. My sister uses the sculpture she's made out of my flesh and portrays herself as a genius sculptor whom everyone admires. Later, the sculpture is shattered, revealing half a broken finger inside. That's when everyone panics.

Constant head splitting headaches, random joint pains,. dizziness and lightheadedness. it was symptoms I know just too well. The blue rose illness. The vile disease that robbed me of my mother. And now I think it's coming for my life too. My name is Ivy and I have the blue rose illness. Funny right? I can't believe I have less than thirty days to live. ************ Prince Emiliano "You are sick? Since when?" "I am sorry." "Keep that for later—I will never give you the permission to leave me. You can never leave me. Do you understand Ivy? Don't you dare."

Luna Baxter and Simon Fulmer have been married for five years. One day, she receives a provocative voice message and intimate photos from Simon's first love. They're sent from his phone, too. "I've only been back in the country for half a year, but he took the bait as soon as I laid it. He's prepared blue fireworks for me tonight, but I don't like the color blue. To avoid wastage, you can have them on your wedding anniversary." Luna and Simon's fifth wedding anniversary comes a month later. She looks out the window at the blue fireworks lighting up the sky. Then, her gaze lands on the empty seat across from her. Simon's first love challenges her again. She sends her a photo of them having a candlelight dinner. Luna doesn't cry or kick up a fuss. She silently signs a divorce agreement and asks Simon's secretary to prepare for a wedding. "What are the bride's and groom's names, Mrs. Fulmer?" "Simon Fulmer and Sophie Sutherland." Seven days later, she flies to Naavi to give them her blessings. She throws them a wedding.

Eleanor always wanted a fresh start. She was raised in the mafia and was constantly exposed to guns, death, and blood. On the night she is kidnapped by an infamous Don, she manages to escape. But instead of going back to her old life, she decides to start a new one. She runs into the city of Rome and her true passion and love for food are sparked. When she meets Dante Santa Cruz, she no longer believes that anything can return her to the world she fled. But how could she forget that she was the daughter of the mad queen?

This Christmas, Elora discovers the one thing more dangerous than the monster in the snow… is the truth buried in her blood. When Elora returns to her family’s remote winter lodge for the holidays, she expects awkward dinners, annoying relatives, and too much peppermint hot chocolate. She doesn’t expect glowing eyes watching her from the forest or a beautiful, terrifying stranger whispering her name through the storm. They call him “The Winter King” a forbidden, ancient being who chooses one mortal bride every generation. A bride he marks.A bride he claims. A bride he hunts. And this year, he chooses her. As secrets erupt, doors splinter, and frost creeps beneath her skin, Elora is forced into a deadly game of desire and survival. Her uncle reveals the truth: their bloodline has been hiding from the Winter King for centuries and LIORA was never supposed to exist long enough for him to find. But he has found her and he will never stop.Because the moment he spoke her true name,she became his. Now, trapped between a family that lied to protect her and a dark, magnetic creature determined to claim her soul, Liora must decide,it's either she Runs,Fight,or surrender to the forbidden bond pulling her toward him… even as the snow outside turns red.

My twin sister, wanting to be with her thug boyfriend, secretly planned to apply for a junior college. When I could not talk her out of it, I told our parents and managed to stop her. However, just a month into the new semester, her thug boyfriend cheated on her. She left a suicide note, blaming it all on the long distance between them. She wrote that if she had gone to that junior college, her boyfriend would never have cheated. Grief‑stricken, my parents turned all their rage on me. "You wretched girl, this is all your fault for meddling! What business was it of yours which school your sister went to? Even if she didn't go to college, we could still support her. We didn't need your big mouth!" "If it weren't for your spiteful tongue, your sister wouldn't be dead!" "We were cursed to have a vicious, unfilial daughter like you!" They locked me in her room, ordering me to repent. Then they took her ashes on a trip, saying they wanted her to see the beautiful mountains and rivers she never got to visit in life. A month later, they returned from their travels to find me long dead, starved to a withered husk in front of my sister's photo. Their eyes held no grief, no guilt, only a faint, scornful curl of the lips. In their eyes, my death was nothing more than justice served. My broken soul saw their icy expressions, and despairing tears burned my eyes. Then my sister's familiar voice rang out again: "What business is it of yours which school I go to? You're just jealous that I have a boyfriend, aren't you?"

My son was no longer with us. His heart, while he still breathed, was cruelly harvested and given to someone of influence—Michele Finnen, the wife of Scott Langley. Just because she had heart disease and was powerful, she sent people to snatch my son away. As an orphan and now a single mother, my son was all the family I had. He would curl up in my arms and whisper, "Mommy, don't be scared. I'll protect you when I grow up!" He was the center of my universe. Consumed by a seething hatred for Michele, I craved vengeance. I was determined to reclaim my son's heart myself, ensuring he would leave this world whole. To do that, I set my sights on Michele's husband, Scott. He was still enamored with his first love. But fate played a cruel joke: suddenly, out of nowhere, that very woman experienced a car accident. And the strangest part? I looked almost just like her.

On the day Shane Jackson and I registered our marriage, his infatuated secretary pushed me off a building. I fractured two ribs, lost my baby instantly, and slipped into a coma. Shane stayed by my side and told everyone I was his only wife, never leaving my bedside. But when no one was watching, he pressed that secretary against the hospital bed and murmured, "If it weren't for you, Lily and I would already have a three-year-old child. You owe us a baby. This is what you must repay her." Joanna Rogers trembled in his arms, eyes full of tears. "I'm sorry, Mr. Jackson. I loved you too much. I'll accept whatever punishment you give me." A moment later, I heard their heavy breathing. My eyes, which had been shut for three years, suddenly opened. Tears rolled down my cheeks.

What would you do if you stumbled upon a bride crying her eyes out minutes before the wedding, begging you to help her escape? You help her, of course. What would you do if you stumbled upon a drunken guy being mugged in the dark alley later that night? You help him too, of course. What would you do when you discover he was the same guy left hanging at the altar earlier that day? You regret everything, of course. What would you do when you start seeing that same guy everywhere you go? You fall in love, of course.

I am not a mermaid but with only a simple touch, I can make someone forget about me. I am not a time traveler, but I am very prone to waking up to other people's bodies, a different scenario, and a different timeline. If someone will ask me who I am, my only answer will be... I am someone lost in time.