Oc Designs

After getting fired from my company, I returned to the countryside, spending my days playing rummy with my grandmother, but my entire family went insane, searching for me everywhere. It was because my younger sister, the family's prodigy jewelry designer, couldn't come up with a single design after I left. In my previous life, at the National Jewelry Design Competition, she managed to produce designs identical to mine before I even finished mine. Everyone assumed I had copied her work. Even my own family testified in her favor. The company accused me of misconduct and plagiarism, claiming my actions had tarnished their reputation. I was fired on the spot and ordered to pay a huge fine. My family, seeing me as nothing but a burden, threw me out of the house. Crushed by the weight of family betrayal and public judgment, I fell into depression, only to be killed on the street by one of my sister's obsessive fans. As my consciousness faded, I couldn't understand why my sister managed to create the exact same design before I did. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day I just signed up for the National Jewelry Design Competition.

Dans un monde où la plus part des croyances ne sont tournés que vers les progrès scientifiques et techniques, il est difficile de croire en l'existence d'un autre monde. - Tout ça, ce sont des foutaises. Moi, je ne crois qu'en ce que je vois. Mon smartphone par exemple... Un monde parallèle à celui que nous connaissons, mais qui existe bel et bien. Fils unique à mes parents, à mes 17 ans j'ai dû voir toute ma vie se bouleverser avec la rencontre d'une mystérieuse créature dont pour moi l'existence ne relevait que du conte de fée. - Mais, quelle sorte de créature es-tu ? Qu'est ce que tu me veux ? Mes origines, ainsi que des réalités dont j'ignorais l'existence m'ont été dévoilés. - Je l'ai su dès l'instant où j'ai posé mon regard sur toi. - Non, mais de quoi tu parles ? Il faut que je fasse un choix, mais tellement de choses sont en jeu, elle dit que c'est mon destin, mais comment savoir que c'est la vérité. - Je t'en prie. Entend l'APPEL DE L'OCÉAN. Je m'appelle Dilane et ceci, est mon histoire.

For five years of their contractual marriage, Serena couldn’t even catch a glimpse of her husband Alexander Vanderbilt who fled the country right after he signed the papers. She couldn’t even see him when his assistant came with divorce papers. Unbelievably, their first encounter unfolded as one night of intoxicated intimacy, with both failing to recognize one another. The next morning, she realized what had happened but when her husband still did not recognize her, she did not bother to inform him. Serena believed their paths would never cross again, only to discover that this was the commencement of their intertwined destinies. The next time Serena met with Xander, she used her middle name 'Ava' and her mother's maiden name 'Alvarez'. Recalling the virgin that had shared his bed the previous night, he almost mistook her as a prostitute until he saw her designs for his new house which, according to rumor, he bought for him and his soon-to-be bride and also his first love, Victoria. How ironic. Fate dictated otherwise and true love indeed saves the day as the more they interract, the more Xander started to feel something for Serena while Serena herself remain cool and composed, which only made him even more curious! If only he knows that she is still his wife...

Después de renacer, tomé la firme decisión de dejar de obsesionarme con mi amigo de la infancia, Federico Torres. En su fiesta de cumpleaños colgó un cartel que decía: «Prohibido perros y Clementina». Sin titubear, me largué a Hawái y puse océanos de por medio. Cuando comentó que el simple olor de mi perfume le revolvía el estómago, obedecí y me mudé sin chistar. Al graduarnos anunció que no pensaba respirar el mismo aire que yo en ninguna ciudad; hice mis maletas —rápido— y desaparecí para siempre. Por último, aseguró que mi mera existencia podía malinterpretarse ante su amor imposible. Asentí y, muy pronto, presenté en redes a otro chico como mi novio. Una y otra vez elegí lo contrario a lo que hice en mi vida pasada. Porque, en aquella otra vida, cuando por fin me casé con él, su amor ideal se arrojó desde un acantilado. Él me llamó asesina, me torturó, me quebró… y acabé devorada por los peces. Esta vez, lo único que quiero es vivir de verdad. Así que tomé de la mano a mi nuevo novio. Pero Federico se plantó en medio de la calle, con los ojos encendidos de rabia. —Clementina, ven conmigo ahora y olvidaré esta broma.

(Book 0.5 of Her Wolves series) (Lore) (Can read as stand-alone) (Steamy) Once upon a time, long ago, my family and I fell through a hole in the ground. It had happened during a war I could no longer recall. Trapped us in this new place that none of us wanted to be. Separated us from the people we used to love. This world was different. Divided. The inhabitants were primitive. Their designs all but useless. Thus we took it upon ourselves to help them. To guide them into a better age. I had lost track of how long I have been here. But my heart still yearned for home. No matter our effort, this place would never be it for me. Could never compare to the love I had for Gerovit. My husband. The man I needed above all else. Gone for eternity. Until I stumbled upon a humble man from humble origins. He reminded me of the wolves I loved so much. Reminded me that I needed a pack to survive. Sparked something in my chest I had long since thought dead. Axlan. A bull-headed beast that fought me at every turn. Until he was no longer a beast… But the first werewolf on earth. I am Marzanna. The goddess of spring. The creator of life. But you'll better understand me when I say this. I am the goddess all wolves worship and this is how my people came to be.

The doctor said I only had three days left to live. Acute liver failure. My only hope was an experimental clinical trial. It was extremely risky, but had the faintest sliver of a chance to survive. But my husband, David, gave the last available spot... to my adopted sister, Emma, also my daughter’s godmother. Her condition was still in its early stages. He said it was the "right decision," because she “deserved to live more.” I signed the papers to forgo treatment and took the high-dose painkillers prescribed by the doctor. The cost? My organs would shut down, and I would die. When I handed over the jewelry company I’d poured my heart into, along with all my designs, to Emma, my parents praised me, saying, “Now that’s what a good big sister should do.” When I agreed to divorce David so he could marry Emma, he said, “You’ve finally learned to be understanding.” When I told my daughter to call Emma ‘Mom,’ she clapped her hands and said, “Emma is such a gentle and kind mother!” When I gave all my assets to Emma, everyone in the family thought it was only natural. No one noticed anything was wrong with me. I’m just curious. Will they still be able to smile when they find out I'm dead?

I was a brilliant artist. But I crushed my right hand saving my mafia husband, Vincent, and my ability to create died with it for three years. Vincent promised he'd make me whole again. Our private doctor swore he was doing everything he could. But my hand remained numb, useless. Then, one day, I overheard a conversation that shattered my world. "Make sure she can never create again," Vincent told the doctor. "I can't have Isabella threatening Sophia's place in the art world!" "But, Mr. Torrino, another procedure might... she could lose the hand for good." "I don't care what happens to her! Sophia saved my life. I will not let her down!" It turned out my husband was the one who had destroyed me. And the assassin, Sophia, was the woman he truly loved. He let her claim my designs, turning her into the art world’s new darling while I was trapped in a broken body. When I confronted him, pregnant with our child, he slapped me in public and told the world I was losing my mind. That night, I burned everything that bound me to him. Then I dialed an encrypted number I hadn't used in what felt like a lifetime. "Grandpa. In three days, I need to disappear."

Mon compagnon, Luther Evans, a dépensé vingt mille euros pour deux billets de première classe à bord de l'Express au Clair de Lune à destination de la côte de Vespera. Au moment où nous allions monter à bord, il m'a tirée à l'écart et a donné ma place à ma sœur adoptive, Zoey Turner. Il a expliqué : « Il ne reste qu'une seule place libre dans le train, et le fils de Zoey n'a jamais vu l'océan. C'est une occasion parfaite. Les enfants ne peuvent pas être séparés de leur mère, alors je vais les emmener d'abord, les installer, puis je reviendrai te chercher. » J'ai hoché la tête et je suis descendue du train, le regardant disparaître au loin. Une fois arrivés à la plage, un ami lui a demandé pourquoi je n'étais pas venue avec eux. Il était occupé à gonfler une bouée pour Zoey et a répondu avec désinvolture, sans lever les yeux. « L'Express au Clair de Lune circule tous les trois jours. Avery peut simplement acheter son propre billet et venir plus tard. Je lui achèterai quelques cadeaux pour me faire pardonner. Elle est vraiment compréhensive et ne m'en voudra pas. » Toute la famille avait toujours favorisé Zoey, et désormais, même mon propre compagnon ne faisait pas exception. Puisque personne ne voulait vraiment me voir, j'ai décidé de partir dans trois jours.

` It was a cool, breezy and stormy night. Rain came down in sheets, as a dark figure stood before a house. The house was pretty ordinary, white with blue shutters; it didn't have more than two bedrooms. It looked like a cozy little family home with flowers and shrubs lining the front lawn, and then the smell from the pellet stove smoke invaded his nostrils. He took a deep breath and pulled out an old, rusted compass from his black trench coat. It looked like it could have been from the 14th century, the small, brass disc was dented and the Victorian designs were faded. He studied it as it pointed east, towards the small house. He looked the house over carefully, looking for the best entrance, before proceeding towards the side to gaze into the window. Inside you can see the small kitchen; the brand new, all black appliances off set the linoleum floor. Cabinets filled almost every wall of the small space that made it look more crowded than it should have been. The kitchen opened to a larger room which seemed to be used as a living room and a dining room all at once. The whole house looked crowded, with the furniture in the living room all touching except for a small gap to walk through and the dining room was so close to the sofa, it could have been sitting on it. He stepped back into the shadows as he watched a young couple enter the kitchen. The wife was tall and slender, had strawberry blond hair formed around her face accenting her jaw-line and her deep blue eyes stopped your heart as you got lost in them. Her fair complexion was silky and complimented her soft face.

After my parents died in a car crash, my cousin stole the compensation money and moved overseas to start a business. My aunt begged me on her knees not to call the police. Then, she locked me in a dark basement for three months. I was close to breaking down and ending my life when Julien Lawson, the neighbor’s son, broke down the basement door and saved me. “Joyce, what they did is unforgivable! They stole the compensation money for your parents’ deaths. You were going to use it to open your own studio! “Marry me. I’ll protect you.” He was the only person who cared about me after my parents died. I was so grateful that I married him and had his child. I worked three jobs during the day to help support the orphanage that Julien ran. At night, I took care of our child and created design sketches. But no matter how hard I tried, none of my work was ever accepted. Even though Julien told me to keep at it, I felt discouraged and thought of giving up on my design career to focus on our family. One day, our child was sick. I went to take over the shift from Julien when I overheard him talking to my aunt on the stairs. “Julien, it’s been ten years. Joyce’s designs are getting better and better. She even passed the first round of the national competition. Are you really not going to tell her about the next round?” my aunt asked. Her voice trembled. Julien said coldly, “For years, I’ve been sending Joyce’s design sketches to Mindy to copy and enter in the competitions or publish as her own. “To help Mindy’s career, I can’t let Joyce move on to the next round. “Joyce has talent. If people notice her, she’ll be a threat to Mindy’s career!”