Jurassic Park Novel T Rex Novels & Stories

"Some GoodNovel writers and readers are wondering what it would be like for two writers on the platform to fall in love. This is actually funny, some agreed it was possible, others believed it wasn't possible. But what if it actually happens between the both of us." ****** Olivia is a nerd who gets bullied at school by the captain of the football team, his squads and her classmates. Writing has always been her passion, things changed for her when she got an offer for her books by a writing platform. What happens when she suddenly catches the attention of the most popular writer on the platform's group chat on Face-book? What happens when she is being asked to tutor her bully?

Ronan Blackthorne gets the same coffee every morning. Black, no sugar. From the same girl who doesn't even know he's worth billions. Annabelle thinks he's just another suit with good tips and a nice smile. She has no clue he owns half of Manhattan. Here's the thing though, Ronan's got a problem. His dead father just screwed him over big time. Turns out daddy had a secret daughter somewhere, and she owns 35% of everything Ronan thought was his. Now he's hunting this mystery girl down because his psychotic mother Victoria won't shut up about finding her and making the problem disappear. The barista he's falling for is the girl he's looking for.

Peter Crowley finds out that it's been three days since I last lodged a purchase request from him. Thinking that I've finally learned how to become a good wife, he decides to text me as a form of reward. "I've already restored your adoptive mother's treatment privileges. You should be more docile from now on. Don't keep lying just to ask for more money from me. "I know that it's tough, being from the bottom rung of the society and all, but I'm not a gullible idiot, you know." What Peter doesn't know is that I've already finished drafting a divorce agreement by the time I receive his text. Before leaving the manor, the only thing I can take with me is the white T-shirt and the jeans I wore when I first married into this family. No one will ever believe that I, the glamorous and radiant Mrs. Crowley, don't have enough decent clothes to take up an entire closet. Every cent meant for any private expenses needs to go through a corporate approval system. All of the fancy clothes and jewelry are locked up in a safe, too. If I ever need money, I'll have to submit a request to Peter's secretary, Cara Harden. This is all because Peter looks down on my background. He thinks that I'll somehow develop a bad habit of spending money excessively just because I've married rich. But three days ago, my adoptive mother was in critical condition. I quickly put in a request for 200 thousand dollars for her surgical bills, only for Cara to drag out the approval system's procession. In the end, my adoptive mother died in the hospital. Peter has no idea that the only reason why I can tolerate his behavior for so many years is for the sake of the medical resources that can cure my adoptive mother. Now that my adoptive mother is dead, there's no need for me to continue staying in this marriage.

BLURB I think a lot people don’t understand what romance is. Daniel Prescott is not an exemption, the ruthless billionaire only cares about himself and no other family but when it was time for him to get married. He filled a contract marriage to the Rose Hildegard, a woman that believe in love and flowers Rose who had to compel just for the sake of her sick grandfather’s last wish agreed and signed the papers until their first night and he candidly warned her not to even hope for a marital union. She was trapped in an only sexual relationship even though she owned an empire. What’s left for her? What is left for the ruthless billionaire when he starts to fall in love but she’s already falling for his best friend?.

It was the day of our marriage. We were supposed to meet up at the City Hall, but my fiancee stood me up. I waited for her the whole day, and the only answer I got was a picture from her assistant. My girlfriend sat astride on his lap, and her arms were wrapped around his neck while they were locked in a deep kiss. "Sorry, Mr. Terraton. Sophie insisted on comforting me. You don't mind, do you?" I demanded answers from my girlfriend, but that only made her impatient. "He donated his blood to me. Yeah, I was with him, but so what? Man up, will you?" That killed any love I had for her, and I called my soon-to-be ex-girlfriend's sister. "Hey, Sylvie. Yeah, about your proposal. So will you marry me?"

The day Lorenzo got kidnapped by a rival family, I found out I was three months pregnant. I took the million dollars his father offered, and I ran. The next time we met, I looked him in the eye and told him I'd been a mole for the rival family the whole time. He was chained up in a cellar, staring at me through the iron bars utterly despairing. He said he'd kill me himself, and then grind my bones to dust. Seven years later, when I saw him again, there was a beautiful woman on his arm. They were getting married. And I was so far down I had to beg him for a loan. He pulled out a thick stack of bills. Lit it on fire right in front of me. He said he'd rather burn it than give it to some whore feeding another man. He didn't know I was begging because my son was dying. His son too.

During the third year of our marriage, my husband's ex—whom he dated for eight years—suddenly shares a photo of a ten-million-dollar marital home on her social media. It's captioned, "I've finally gotten a mansion! Who's the best at dating? I am!" I gape at the image—I see my husband swiping his card at the real estate sales office in a corner of the photo. I leave a question mark in the comments. In the next second, my husband calls me to tell me off. "I'm just making good on a promise I made her when we were dating—to buy her a marital home. Why did you have to go insult her like that? Are you evil enough to turn me into a man who goes back on his word?" That evening, his ex shares another photo of a million-dollar renovation bill. I know it's a gift from my husband to appease her, but I don't care anymore…

"Just help me out this once, man. I just made it to the final round, and I can't leave the game. Help your little brother out for a change? You're the best, J." It was 2:00 a.m. Chad asked me to go downstairs and pick up his takeout. I wanted to refuse because I was still recovering from a broken foot, but he did not look capable of tearing his eyes from the screen for even a second. Thus, I agreed and stepped outside. Without warning, something like a stream of comments flashed across my mind. [No! Somebody stop him!] [That delivery guy is your brother's roommate! He's got a knife!!!] [Lil' Bro knows that already, J! He's using you as a human shield to buy himself time!] I froze. I turned to go back inside. The door would not budge. Chad had already locked it. The elevator chimed down the hall. The comments in my head spiraled into chaos. [The killer is here! Get out of there, Big Bro!]

I was born with a genetic disorder. My father left as soon as he found out, and my illness quickly drained all my mother’s savings. To afford my treatment, she moved me from one stranger’s home to another, until she chose to have a child for money. After giving birth to a baby boy and receiving twelve thousand dollars, she was about to leave, but the man asked her to stay. He promised to raise me as his own and cover my medical expenses. She agreed. They married soon after. She told me I would always be the one she loved most. To prove it, she rarely held my brother and almost never smiled at him. Until the day he accidentally swallowed my medicine. As she frantically tried to save him, she broke down and screamed at me, “Why are you still alive?” I watched them rush to the hospital. Then I went back to my room, picked up the scattered pills, and swallowed them all. Mom, I wouldn't be a burden to you anymore.

The night before my engagement, I saw Leo Vitaly in a naked embrace with my best friend, Sophia, at the villa. I did not cry or create a scene. Instead, I went crazy as I slept with three of his best buddies. I left evidence of our lovemaking on the wooden desk of his office, condoms in the passenger seat of his car, and a leather whip in his private wine cellar. All of this was left behind on purpose to tell him what I did. When Leo found out about it, all he did was put out the cigar in his hand and made a group call to his buddies. "You've all slept with her? What did she taste like?" Taunting laughter was heard from the other end of the call. "She's pretty flexible in bed." "Not bad, but she needs to be more adventurous in bed. The minor celebrities I sleep with are better than she is." "Haven't you given her a taste before by giving her a good lesson, Leo? She's too tight down there." My meticulously planned revenge was nothing but a joke to him. Leo had not cared at all. That night, I broke down. Leo sent me to the sanatorium after that. He 'treated' me there for an entire year.