Jasmine Bleu Pregnancy Novels & Stories

Jasmine Hunt is vacationing with her parents in South Pointe, Miami, for one last weekend together before she goes away to college. Zain Perez is a college senior on a full-ride baseball scholarship to USC, home for the summer. What neither of them know is that their lives are about to change forever. Jasmine is from an affluent family in Maine who wants her to date young men from society. Zain is from a Cuban family who wants him to meet a nice Cuban girl and settle down. They both made promises to their families that they intend to keep but can’t deny their attraction. Jasmine promised her mother that she would wait to sleep with a man until she was married. But Zain comes up with a solution: Get married Friday and divorced Monday, while having the time of their lives for just one incredible weekend before going back to college. Sounds like a plan. But what was supposed to be a casual liaison ends up being their heart’s desire. Join Jasmine and Zain as they learn what it is to sacrifice for the good of family. But will their love be the ultimate sacrifice? Just One Weekend is a novel of a first love so epic that neither of them can forget… or deny.

The story follows Jasmine Smith - a maid who relies on her intelligence, kindness, and courage to help herself and her best friend overcome the difficulties and pitfalls of the Curie family's mansion. There, she also accidentally helps Peter - the only heir of the Curie family to overcome difficulties and find his true love. In this journey, Jasmine has realized she loves Peter, and can they come together with a happy ending?

In the underground casino, my ex-fiancé Don Dante Castellano threw the card in my face. His arm was around Sabrina—his first love—and his eyes were ice as they shoved me toward the table. "Your father owed mine a life. The thing in your belly isn't mine." He pressed the card flat against my cheek. "The daughter pays the father's debt. Tonight you're the living chip on that table." The paternity test was fake. The child was his. I knew. He didn't believe me. That night, with a gun pointed at my head, I took off all my clothes in front of everyone. Two years passed. Two years later, in Vegas, he saw me again. I was in a red silk dress with a gold chain around my neck, the other end of the chain held by a yellow-toothed gambler. "This bitch is cheap. Bark for me, and all these chips are yours." I picked up the chips, practiced. "Woof. Woof." Sabrina pressed her face into his chest, covering her nose. "Dante. This is disgusting. Let's go." He didn't go. The veins rose along his temple. He was staring at the bruises on my knees. Then he kicked the gambler across the room. He bent down and took hold of my chin. Hard. "Sienna. Money, and you'll do anything at all?" He was close enough that I could smell him. Soap. Two years, and still the same soap. I closed my eyes, opened them, pulled my mouth into a smile for him. "That's right, boss. Pay up and I'll cooperate with whatever position you want. Care to buy a round?"

"A contract??" Her eyes squinted, amused at the papers right in front of her. Her arranged husband was being ridiculous and unreasonable, but since they had no feelings or whatsoever for each other, she didn't object and sign the papers. Where as she was finding it hard to cope with her loneliness in the house, Lucas was outside having fun with his mistresses. Jasmine had to endure the pains, atleast for her grandfather's sake. He was on a sick bed now, giving him a bad news about her marriage wasn't a good decision. What happened when her grandfather died? Jasmine requested for Divorce and shocked her husband. He never saw it coming but Jasmine didn't care and was set to move on with life now instead of continuously being locked up like his scape goat. What happened when she finally left the house?

William Graham and Jasmine Spencer had been at odds since they were kids. But that year, fate played a trick on them—out of all the eligible matches in their circle, only the two of them were left. William swore he would rather die than marry Jasmine. That piqued her interest. She said, "Great. Then I guess I'm definitely marrying you. Go ahead and drop dead." On their wedding day, William humiliated her by releasing dozens of chickens at the ceremony. With a flat look, Jasmine picked one up and called it "Darling". Just like that, William lost all interest in the joke. He looked at the woman who insisted on marrying him and sneered. "You'll regret this." Three years into the marriage, Jasmine caught William cheating for the ninety-ninth time. It was only then that she finally understood— So this was the kind of regret William had meant.

"We shouldn't be doing this..." Jasmine said, a little breathless as she looked up to Zane's alluring gray eyes. He looked down at her, then leaned forward, so his lips slightly touched hers. "Oh, we should. You belong with me." Alpha Zane Atlantis needs his mate and his wolf back, and he finds both in the human girl, Jasmine Carter. But Jasmine is closely held to Vampire Prince Andrew Jones, who, in order to stop Alpha Zane from mating her due to the long standing enmity between the two, will turn her once she clocks eighteen in a few months. All is fair in love and war, especially between supernaturals, and she finds herself between two of them, each wanting to possess all of her.

"So.... what would you like tonight to be?" Jasmine asked. Collins paused to consider. His eyes beamed a speculative challenge as he answered, "Whatever two strangers want to make of it." "Without a tomorrow." "Tomorrow I'm gone." Well, that was laying it on the line! "Then I'll just take this one-night experience with the man behind the name," she countered, pride insisting that his schedule did not affect her expectations from this blind date, which had been zero before she met him anyway. Sexual invitation simmered back at her. "I wonder if you will." ______ It was passion at first sight... Jasmine's blind date with Collins Templeton, a notoriously charming  tycoon, was the last thing she needed And more than a one-night stand... The second they met, Jasmine recognized sexual challenge in Collins eyes. Their date led to one unforgettable night - with consequences that would change their lives forever...

Gilbert Pierce, my wife's male trainee, bragged that he could disarm a bomb just by relying on his senses and with his eyes closed. However, he misjudged it and triggered the bomb's secondary detonation sequence. I stepped in at the last second and used the most dangerous method available, liquid nitrogen flash cooling, to save the entire building. Gilbert was pulled off frontline duty and placed on suspension for review. My wife, Jasmine Clem, tried to speak up for him, but I stopped her cold. "If you defend him now, you won't save him. You'll just get dragged down and suspended alongside him." Unable to handle the pressure, Gilbert blew himself up in an accident. In his suicide note, he accused Jasmine of choosing self-preservation when he needed her most. Jasmine said nothing. She only locked that letter away in her study. Years later, Jasmine became a nationally renowned bomb disposal expert. During a terrorist attack, I was captured and strapped with a timed explosive. Jasmine came to the scene personally to defuse it, but right in front of me, she repeated the exact same mistake her trainee had made years ago. She watched the countdown and smiled lightly at me. "See? He was just nervous back then. If I had encouraged him, he'd be a hero now." The bomb detonated, and I was blown apart. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment she was about to defend Gilbert. She didn't know that inside that building sat the nation's most classified core servers.

My best friend and I were thrown into the beast tribe where females were rare and the law was polyandry. Last time, she chose the alluring serpent man as her mate, while I chose the loyal wolf man as mine. Her harem grew, her mate got jealous and caged her underground. My mate cherished me, and when he became chieftain, he placed the tribe at my feet. That was until my best friend shoved me off a cliff. I woke up back to the day of choosing our mates. She claimed my wolf man with a triumphant smile, in return, I simply pointed to the white tiger priest. Being the wife of the chieftain was too small a dream, after all. In a world where females rule, I'll take the throne.

My name is Clara Kelly. I was born in Brooklyn, into an Irish-American cop’s family. My father spent his whole career walking a beat out of the 84th Precinct. My mother volunteered at the parish. I was the first girl on our block to get into Columbia Law. The year I graduated, I was volunteering at a charity gala. I picked up the wrong glass of wine and ended up dumping it down the front of a man’s Brioni suit. That man was Adrian Francesco Moretti. Fourth-generation Don of the Moretti Family of New York, and one of the five families of Cosa Nostra. He chased me for four years. I said no six times. The seventh time, he stood outside my law firm in the rain until three-fifteen in the morning. I married him. Two decades in, he’d handed me the keys to the entire Moretti Family. In our world they called me “the Irish Donna,” a woman with no Italian blood who somehow held the seat. Childless by choice, the two of us. Famously in love. Until that Wednesday afternoon, when my college roommate of twenty years, my best friend Vivian Sinclair, walked into my living room with a five-year-old boy. She said the boy was Adrian’s son. She said that five years ago, she’d taken a used condom out of the wastebasket in my upstairs master bedroom, kept it frozen for three years, and done IVF. She said she was the real mother of the Moretti heir. She was the real Donna Moretti. “Be smart. Pack your bags and walk out. You might even get to keep your life.” “You’re barren. The Moretti Family doesn’t need you.” I looked at the woman I’d called my best friend for half my adult life. I didn’t say a word. She thought she was holding the winning card. What she didn’t know was that she’d just stepped onto a board Adrian and I had been laying for twenty years. I needed exactly one sentence to shatter every piece of the Donna fantasy she’d spent five years building.