Oc Reference Sheet

Isabela? Caroline? Patricia? Vivian? Nakasubsob si Enrique sa gitna ng puting satin sheet at tinitigan ang blonde na may umaagos na buhok na natutulog sa tabi niya, pero wala siyang ideya kung sino ang babaeng iyon... Na para sa kanya ay normal lang, dahil tuwing gabi ay iba ang babae. nakahiga sa kanyang kama. Si Enrique ay isang batang bilyonaryong CEO na palaging nasa kanyang mga kamay ang lahat ng gusto niya... Mga mansyon, magagarang sasakyan at maging ang mga babae. Ang malamig, sarado at ganap na brutis na lalaki ay namumuhay sa isang madilim at mapanglaw na buhay na sarado sa sarili niyang mundo, ang hindi niya inaasahan ay ang isang matamis na yaya na may magandang kalooban at mapang-akit na ngiti ay magpapabaligtad sa kanyang buong mundo.

There is a place where names are forgotten, faces are hidden, and only the body speaks. It doesn’t whisper. It moans. It obeys. It disobeys. It begs. You were warned not to touch. But you will. Welcome to Velvet Heat, a collection of 100 dangerously intimate stories that whisper in the dark and bite when you’re not looking. These are not tales of sweet love and gentle kisses. These are fantasies that unravel you..slowly, slickly, and without apology. Behind every silk sheet is a secret. Beneath every command, a dare. And under every moan, a threat. From faceless strangers in candlelit rooms to monsters who taste like sin, this is a world where desire bleeds, power shifts, and no one escapes untouched. Some stories will make you beg. Some will make you scream. And some… will make you wish you never opened the book. Velvet Heat is where you come to lose yourself. But you’ll never leave the same. Only sinners. No safe words. Only consequences. And no promises of love..just obsession, power, hunger… and release.

Everyone knew—Jessica Conway had always adored Jack Murray. They were high school lovers, and everyone just assumed they would get married eventually and live happily ever after. But then, there was Abby Conway, Jessica's elder sister who was "gravely ill." On the eve of Jessica and Jack's wedding, he said, "Jess, your sister's really really sick. Let's give her a chance to be the bride for now, alright? You know you're the one I love." Abby echoed, "Jess, promise me you'll come to the wedding, okay?" Jessica clutched the stomach cancer diagnosis in her hands and said nothing. On the wedding day, she never showed up. Jack, realizing her absence, abandoned the ceremony and rushed home—only to find the house empty. The only thing left behind was a single sheet of paper: her final diagnosis. For three days and three nights, Jack knelt before Jessica, begging for a second chance. But she never forgave him. Not even in death.

La vie est un conte de fées et elle en est l’héroïne ! C’est du moins ce que pense Analia en se préparant pour la prestigieuse soirée qui va marquer son entrée dans le monde adulte.Elle a le privilège de vivre sur l’archipel d’Eden Island où tout n’est qu’ordre, harmonie et beauté ! Alors que partout ailleurs la montée des eaux a depuis longtemps réduit les continents à quelques îles arides disséminées sur l’océan où les populations luttent pour leur survie.Mais Aylan, nouvellement arrivé sur l’archipel, ne va-t-il pas changer à jamais le destin de l’adolescente en lui montrant la face sombre du paradis ?Du rêve au cauchemar, il n’y a parfois qu’un pas…

The room is dimly lit, the air is filled with the smell of sex and alcohol; the guy laying next to the girl is panting heavily. She on the other hand is laying next to him, all curled up; soft whimpers are coming out of her lips. The guy wraps his muscular arms around her waist and pushes her a little away from him. She opens her eyes halfway through and stares at the guy, his hair sticking to his forehead due to the sweat; his dark brown eyes are closed. His sharp features are glistening, when the little rays of the sun hits his face that is coming in through the window. Forwarding her hand, she caresses his thin lower lip with her index finger and closes her eyes. "Get out." He says in a harsh tone from beside her. Her eyes flutter open completely hearing his harsh words; she always thinks why he acts so badly with her? Retracting her hand back to herself she sits up, her lower belly aches in the bitter sweet pain. A groan comes out of her mouth and her hands go straight to on top of her lower belly, to caress it. His clothes and hers are scattered around on the floor. The entire room is a mess, the bed sheet is all crinkled; pillows are off the bed.

Llevo diez años casada con Nicolás. He conocido a cada una de sus novias. Cada vez que se aburría y quería cambiar, yo era su mejor pretexto para terminar con ellas: —Si te casas conmigo, vas a terminar igual que ella. Nos acostumbraríamos tanto el uno al otro que se perdería toda la emoción. En nuestro aniversario de bodas, yo le secaba las lágrimas a la universitaria que acababa de dejar, mientras él llevaba a su nueva conquista al cine. Cuando se acabó el paquete de pañuelos, fue como ver un reflejo de mi pasado. Así que le pedí el divorcio. Su reacción fue de una confusión genuina, algo raro en él. —¿No vas a esperar un poco más? Tal vez lo nuestro pudo funcionar. Le dediqué una sonrisa vaga, sin responder, y compré un boleto de avión para cruzar el océano. Ya no podía esperar a que cambiara, así que decidí dar el primer paso.

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.

A well-known actor, Ellie Syallis have fans of varying levels— most of them are obsessed, very obsessed. A day awaited by her fans came, where people that won and bought the limited slots came. They finally met their idol face to face, got to shake hands with the female and an autograph on one of her limited-edition DVDs, on cards and on pictures as well. But her once peaceful life will start to take turn for the worse she sees at that very moment. A man wearing a formal business suit with a stoic appearance approached her. She gladly offered her hand and so they shook hands. The male asked for her autograph and she said "yes" with a brimming smile. She couldn't take her eyes of the male. He was undeniably handsome and somehow mysteriously attractive. "Here!" She handed her autograph on the sheet of paper the male gave. “Have a nice day! And oh, please keep on supporting me!” She added and partly bowed. The stranger flashed a smirk that made her heart skip a beat, both in a pinch of threat or fear and in unknown excitement. "You're now my wife. Hello, Mrs. Folster. Can't wait to spend the rest of my days with you." Her facial expressions shifted to surprise, annoyance, fear, melancholy, and into anger as she finally took a glance on the paper she signed. It was a marriage contract!

Koishi 22 years old there was a time he was a famous painter in the past, but because of personal reasons, he left the painting on the white canvas. The smell of fresh paint he used to love he hates the most. Now just living a normal life as a pizza delivery guy. On the other side Takeshi, famous for his dark theme paintings filled with lust and greed showed in them. Not much is know about the secret painter to anyone. The paintings can give anyone a nightmare story behind it still they are in lusted to buy the beauty of it. The day they cross the path for the tainted forbidden love the promise that was made in the past has to be fulfilled now. "I want you to paint for me," Takeshi said looking down at Koishi the hands that were tied up in bed. "Well, start it once again or-"Takeshi paused pulling the door open as a familiar person falls down. "Or I will paint the canvas with your love" Takeshi smirks as the horror-filled his Koishi eyes hearing a thud right in front of his leg. What will Koishi do now? Painting in the while sheet of the canvas or let it tamed by the blood he onces cared. The single stroke of the brush will tell you every single story. "Why did you run away from me a year ago?"

My husband's gym was celebrating its grand opening, so I grabbed my best friend and headed over under the guise of "checking the place out," armed with a $10 trial class we had snagged from a group deal. I never once mentioned that I was the owner's wife. The moment we wrapped up the workout, a female trainer slapped a price sheet into our hands and gave us a look that could cut glass. "Let me guess, you two came here to milk the freebies? Our private training sessions cost hundreds. They're not here for people like you to exploit." I let out a disbelieving laugh. "We bought a perfectly valid trial class. How does that make us freeloaders? Get your manager." She rolled her eyes, acting like she was the rules. "Call whoever you want! The owner is my boyfriend, and he can't stand penny-pinchers who show up trying to mooch off his gym." Then, right in front of us, she called him—voice raised, dramatic, dripping with fake indignation. "Babe, there are two cheapskates in your gym demanding the manager. Come deal with them for me!"