Louis Armstrong West End Blues Lyrics Romane & Geschichten

When Vivienne Carter married Sebastian Cross at twenty-two, everyone said how lucky she was. He was ten years older, a mafia Don with terrifying power in his hands, and yet for three years he doted on her alone. He indulged her in everything, kept her sheltered under his wing, tender and attentive down to the smallest detail. Only in the dead of night did he turn possessive and overpowering, taking without limit, never once relenting even when she begged him through tears. She had always been certain she was the one thing he loved. Then her father died without warning. Drowning in grief, she called him ninety-nine times, and every call was cut off. In an instant, a single photo shattered eve

Amelia’s plan was simple: run, hide, and never let the Silverlight Pack—or the feared Alpha Ryder—find her. But when a bloodied stranger stormed into her train compartment, pressed a knife to her throat, and demanded she pretend to be his lover, her life changed forever. He said she was his Luna. She said she was nobody. They all mocked her as a useless Omega—until they discovered she was not an ordinary wolf at all. And when her power finally awakened, the same stepbrother who branded and abused her ended up on his knees, begging for mercy from the girl he once called his slave. She finally claimed the vengeance she sought.

On the day after my twin brother, Jonathan Sander's death, I've married Natania Gilmore, my widowed sister-in-law. That day, Natania prints a thousand copies of Jonathan's death report and announces to the world that I'm the actual killer. Because of that, everyone despises me. Even my parents sever all ties with me on the spot. After our marriage, Natania keeps getting into romantic scandals. She's also brought countless men home with her. She makes me stand outside her room while listening to their debauchery every time. I'm also required to take photos of her and her boytoy with my camera once they are done with their lovemaking. I can only stomach everything quietly. My only plea is

Jeremy Goodman had a bet with his friends that he would win the aloof and beautiful Bailey Scott’s heart in a month’s time. She was the volunteer who was going to donate her kidney to me. Jeremy had spent a fortune on this. I watched as he slowly fell for her. He even ignored the board of directors’ objection and bought the club she worked at. However, he earnestly said, “Whatever that’s happening between Bailey and I isn’t real. Don’t worry, once I win this bet, I’ll propose to you.” I had heard that same promise many times. While he played hero saving the damsel in distress, Bailey overheard the terms of his bet as she stood outside of the private room. She threw a tantrum. Jer

My wife, Rosalind Judd, has been tearing up our marriage certificate 99 times in the past ten years of our marriage. This is her usual tactic to make me apologize and make amends. The first time, I transfer 100 thousand dollars for Rosalind to come back from her travel abroad with her childhood friend, Jackson Lane. The tenth time, she ruins the anniversary I have prepared meticulously and forces me to immediately help him get back to work. The 50th time, she humiliates me in front of my client during the day and forces me to sign over the transfer agreement to a villa at night, while she has a candlelit dinner with Jackson. ... Now, for the 100th time, she forces me to transfer my co

Lightning rips the sky open—then, darkness. The world shudders. On the edge. Endings taste like ash. Fate. Desire. Two strangers crash into each other as everything falls apart. Autumn Winters: heartbroken, haunted, hungry for something more. A name that doesn't fit her anymore. She runs from the ruins of her past, colliding with him. Bastion. A man with eyes like midnight storms. Dangerous. Beautiful. Not from here. His secrets coil around him, thick as the night. Chaos explodes. The city burns. Time turns lethal. Bastion offers survival—but at what cost? Autumn's trust is shattered glass, and every word he speaks slices deeper. Can she gamble her heart on a stranger when the wo

The third year after I got diagnosed with intermittent amnesia, I happened to overhear my husband, Lucien Rook, chatting with his friends. “Lucien, Anneliese loses her memories every couple of months, and you keep making us impersonate you to live with her. Aren’t you afraid that one of us might take it all the way one day?” “What’s there to be afraid of?” Lucien laughed uninhibitedly, swishing the alcohol in his glass. “Annie is cold and distant. As long as you guys don’t tempt her, she won’t have any such desires. “But I’m warning you now. You can act all you want, but you can’t ever sleep with her. Once I’ve had my fun, I will be going home to her.” For three years, every time I los

My mother was the villainess of a story. When I was born, the story came to its end. In the past, she was a rich heiress who drowned herself in luxury and pleasure. At present, everyone condemned her and spat in her path. After my father, the male lead of the story, betrayed her, her family went bankrupt. She knew nothing and had no skills, but for me, she was willing to learn from scratch.

Caspian Henderson has been rigid and restrained throughout his six-year marriage to Juliet Bennett, and their life together feels dull and uneventful. Even their nights together feel like a chore with a set time. He arrives on the dot, does what he came for, and leaves. Everyone in their social circle believes he's the kind of man who will never bend for any woman. That was true until a month ago, when he returned with an orphaned girl who claims to have saved his life. Her name is Willow Everly. She's cold and unapproachable—the polar opposite of Juliet, who has been doted on all her life. Juliet's girlfriends attempt to warn her. "That young woman looks like a handful. You'd better k

The hotel called, politely reminding me that the condoms used last night were unpaid and had been charged to my membership card. I was stunned. I'd been working late until midnight and hadn't set foot in any hotel. I confronted my husband, the only person who knew my card code. Nathan Phelps looked at me, bewildered. "Honey, that hotel costs over $10,000 a night. I'd never go there. It's probably a system error. Someone must have mistyped the card number. I'll file a complaint tomorrow." Unconvinced, I called my best friend, who managed the hotel. "Tracy, check who Nathan was with at the hotel last night. I'm catching him red-handed."