Mirrored Poetry

Estela Bremmer is a young widow, and on her husband's first death anniversary, she met the handsome, wealthy writer Michael Jensen at his book launch. Estela hated him because he was the exact opposite of her deceased spouse. She didn't hide her disgust towards him at the party as she tried to humiliate him with insults and sarcasm. Her publisher friend listened in utter helplessness to her attacks. She was resentful that her pious, gentle, and loyal husband had to die at a very young age while a man like Michael should live a long life. Let alone that her husband's published poetry book sales paled compared to Michaels' best-selling books. Little did she know that Michael would take his sweet revenge that night in her bed.

Their kiss left them craving more, their bodies aflame with desire. Brynn willingly granted Killian entry to her mouth, his yearning evident in a throaty moan. His scorching lips ignited a passionate fire within her, and his hand gently traced along her curves, coaxing seductive sounds from Brynn's lips. While they hadn't ventured beyond their previous encounter in the study, Brynn's readiness was palpable. She longed for him so ardently that the mere thought of having him made her quiver. Killian was enraptured by her taste, his desire overwhelming. He broke the kiss momentarily to gaze into Brynn's eyes, which smoldered with a hunger that mirrored his own. They both ached for each other. As his fingers deftly undid the buttons of her attire, a shiver of anticipation coursed through Brynn's skin. When Killian beheld her exposed breast, he couldn't resist a hiss of desire, sending her into blissful sighs as her garments fell away. Her gown pooled at her feet, leaving Brynn in a sensuous black two-piece lingerie set that left Killian spellbound. The way her voluptuous curves accentuated her body left him in a state of eager anticipation, his excitement evident. "Damn," he muttered, reminiscing about their previous passionate encounters. "You're incredibly seductive," he declared, his voice husky with desire, as he guided her gently to the bed. "And you're all mine."

I arranged a lavish dinner cruise in Alpha Lucien Grimfang's honor. However, I mistakenly wore the ceremonial gown that had once belonged to his late Luna, Sylvia Wilder. In front of all the guests, his ten-year-old son, Rhett Grimfang, suddenly rammed me into the champagne tower. The shattered crystal glasses left deep cuts across my skin. "Don't think that you can replace my mother just because you're wearing her sacred gown! You're nothing but a dog—obedient and always at my father's beck and call! Don't you dare dream of claiming a Luna's honor!" His cold, scornful expression mirrored Lucien's perfectly. "I can make you leave anytime I want!" I forced myself to look up at the pup I had raised. "Don't trouble yourself. Tomorrow, I'll submit my resignation to the Elder Council and leave for good."

The novel is mainly about the forgotten British poet/writer named C. J Richards who lived in Burma/Myanmar in colonial times and he believed himself as a Burmophile. He served as I.C.S (Indian Civil Servant) and when he retired from I.C.S service, he was a D.C (District Commissioner) and he left for England a year before Burma gained its independence in 1948. He came to Burma in 1920 to work in civil service after passing the hardest I.C.S examination. He wrote several books on Burma and contributed many monthly articles to Guardian Magazine published in Burma from 1953 to 1974 or 1975. Though he wrote several books which had much literary merit to both communities, Britain and Burma (Myanmar), people failed to recognize him. The story has two parts: one part is set in the contemporary Yangon (then called Rangoon) in 2016 context and a young literary enthusiast named “Lin” found out unexpectedly the forgotten writer’s poetry book and there is surely a good deal of time gap that led him into a quest to know more about the author’s life. The setting is quite different comparing to colonial Burma and independence Myanmar (Burma), early twentieth century and 2016 which is a transitional period in Myanmar. The writer’s life is fictionalized in the novel and most of the facts are taken from his personal stories and other reference books. It is a kind of historical novel with a twist and it has comparatively constructed the two different periods in Myanmar history to convince readers, locally and abroad more about history, authorship, humanity, colonialism, and transitional development in Myanmar today.

My husband was ruled by his obsessive-compulsive disorder, enforcing rigid schedules that governed our household. On our daughter's birthday, he and his assistant showed up late. The girl, who mirrored her father's need for order, wasn't upset. She just smiled and invited them to cut her cake. My heart shattered as I watched their cream-covered faces and joyful photos. The next day, I handed him the divorce agreement, confusing him. "Just because Edith didn't cut the cake with you?" "Yes."

Luciano gazed at the little boy who tugged at his sleeve. His eyes mirrored the green of an emerald, a trait they shared. Kneeling down, Luciano faced the boy. "What's your name?" "Juan," the boy replied, a shy smile gracing his lips. "Juan, what a wonderful name," Luciano said, pulling him into a gentle embrace. He couldn't help but wonder where the boy's parents were. "Where are your parents?" he inquired softly. "My mom's at the store over there," Juan pointed across the street. Then, turning to Luciano, he asked, "As for my daddy... Will you be my dad, sir?"

Selina Anderson, a perfect teenager whose life meant nothing but sadness and dull grayness of the world. Oblivious of the secrets her parents hid behind. A power she possessed that neither she, herself, does not know. A power that could either destroy or create worlds. A day without ruthlessness of reality, a day without confronting the cold – Selina decides to pick a book on a winter day. Only to discover that it wasn’t any normal book she’s holding onto her hands. It was a portal – a path to a world of magic. Upon her arrival to this world, slowly, she uncovers the secrets her parents hid all these years. She discovers her true self. But upon finding the truth about everything she thought she knew – she found herself in the face of disdain. Would there ever truly be enough answers to her questions? Will she accept the truth? Or will she be the destroyer of worlds? -- **She suddenly sat up, her light blue hair swaying on her back. "But hey, at least you could always ask me if you want some kind of space or something." She looks at me with the brightest smile pasted on her face. A smile slowly formed on my face as I looked at her. Her smile was like this infectious thing that would brighten the whole room. I sat up and glanced down on the mirrored ground - I could see my own reflection. Blonde hair, red eyes looking right straight at me, a smile. But the smile was almost evil in the reflection. I closed my eyes, the smile that found its way on my face disappeared. "Don't stop smiling." I look up to see Lyv gazing at me softly, observing me. "You look beautiful when you smile."**

Stanley Edwards, people claimed he mirrored a Russian man and had the heart of steel. He was an executioner who mercilessly took the lives of twenty women over a period of eight years. He is released from prison, can he get a whole new life? After he meets the love of his life, how will he protect their love? Is he still the grim executioner?

Aisla Lindon was born an Omega—but not a weak one. Betrayed by her father, sold into marriage, and stripped of her inheritance, she flees to Blackthorn Werewolf Military Academy—where four ruthless alphas rule with iron fists. The Hunter brothers: Hughs - cold professor and biker gang leader . Cayden - silver-tongued senior who destroys reputations. Hades - silent predator with dark intentions. Hank - cocky troublemaker who wants her. Hank’s leaned down, bracing his hands on the arms of her chair, caging her in again. “Not like that.” Cayden pushed off the door, his steps silent on the rich rug. “He said sit. He didn’t say how to sit.” He came to her other side, a mirrored image of his brother. “Let’s be specific.” Hughs voice dropped to a husky, wicked whisper. “Spread your legs.” Hades leaned in closer, his lips almost brushing her ear. “Our little stepsister needs a good punishment.”

"I am not perfect. You aren't either, and the two of us will never be perfect. But if i can make you laugh at least once, cause you to think twice, and if i admit to being human and making mistakes, hold onto me and give me the most you can. I am not going to quote poetry, I am not thinking about you every moment, but I will give you a part of me that i know you could break. Don't hurt me, don't change me, and don't expect for more than i can give. Don't analyze. Smile when i make you happy, yell when i make you mad, and miss me when I am not there. Love hard when there is love to be had. Because perfect guys don't exist, but there's always one guy that is perfect for you” As I held the letter in hand, a single tear fell off my face and I clench my jaw together, I will be doomed if I let him go without a fight.