One Good Turn Novel Mga Nobela at Kwento

The line between Infatuation and Obsession is called Danger. Wunmi decided to accept the job her friend is offering her as she had to help her brother with his school fees. What happens when her new boss is the same guy from her high school? The same guy who broke her heart once? ***** Wunmi is not your typical beautiful Nigerian girl. She's sometimes bold, sometimes reserved. Starting work while in final year of her university seemed to be all fun until she met with her new boss, who looked really familiar. She finally found out that he was the same guy who broke her heart before, but she couldn't still stop her self from falling. He breaks her heart again several times, but still she wants him. She herself wasn't stupid, but what can she do during this period of loving him unconditionally? Read it, It's really more than the description.

Vad Wagner is the best IIF agent there is for over a decade. However, his work turned him into a prideful man and his heart into stone. He spent half of his life living with criminals that he developed some psychopathic tendencies. His life turned to turmoil when his body swapped with a teenage girl; Kylo a withdrawn, bullied teen. She explored a ritual that opened a door to the mythical world. Now, Vad has to deal with demons in the body of the weak teen girl. How will he be able to handle it? Will the reserved Kylo be able to handle the life and body of Vad? Will Vad’s reputation help her overcome her fears and trauma along the way? How will they come back to their original bodies? How will they take control of a life so different from their own? Join Vad and Kylo, clash it out against the supernatural and their inner battle against themselves. Disclaimer: Credits to the rightful owner of the pic used in my book cover.

I've always been a goody-two-shoes. The boldest thing I've ever done is falling in love with my older brother's friend, Oliver Anderson. The day Oliver finds out about my feelings for him, he's left feeling shell-shocked for a long time. But in the end, he still agrees to become my boyfriend. I thought we loved each other. But Oliver sends me a video featuring him and another young woman on my birthday. In the video, they did everything a couple can possibly do. At the end of the video, Oliver glances at the camera casually while smoking. "Vera, this is my gift for you. Never trust a man this easily." That's when I feel my confidence getting smashed into smithereens. That's why when Oliver and that woman show up in front of me, I give up on pursuing him once and for all.

Right before I hit forty, my husband hit me with: "I want a divorce." For the past ten years, I had been driving a truck outside every day to support my family, while he had been cheating on me at home. Even our child was no longer close to me. "Bad Mom! You hit Jenny! Bad Mom!" Willy cried. "I don't want Mom. I want Jenny. I wanna stay with Dad and Jenny!" Jenny. The neighbor. Single mom. Her kid and ours were tight. Ten years of grinding, running myself ragged—for two ingrates? All right! Wish your family of four a happy life! I didn't want my husband or son anymore.

In the seventh year of my marriage to Adrian Sandford, his ex, Celine Wheeler, came back. She posted: [We were young, reckless. We missed our shot. This time, I'm fighting for love.] That night, Adrian sat on the balcony, cigarette burning between his fingers, staring out till sunrise. My phone wouldn't stop buzzing either. Their friend group—everyone who saw them grow up—flooded the chat. Regret for them. Relief, too. They forgot I was still in there. Adrian had no clue how many times I replayed the years I chased him. Seven years. I'm tired.

My CEO husband told me he had a last-minute job to handle. He said that because of it, he couldn't accompany me to retrieve the body. Then I went online and saw a photo my husband's secretary had posted as a birthday status update. [Thanks for the red velvet cake, Mr. Mitchell! Happy birthday to me!] I smiled and left a comment. [Happy birthday.] That single comment sparked a frenzy among my colleagues. They immediately began placing bets on how big of a scene I would make. Then he called. "Lucy is just celebrating her birthday, Brianna! Why do you have to ruin it by showing up in the comments?! Don't you know how sensitive she is? How is she supposed to feel comfortable at work now?! "She's only been here for two years. She doesn't even have any friends! What's wrong with me looking out for an employee and keeping her company on her birthday? A lucky girl who grew up in a wealthy family like you wouldn't understand! "If you want to talk about this, fine. Wait until I get back. But delete that comment right now! We can always wait another few days before retrieving his body. Where is your father going to go anyway? He's already dead!" I clenched my fist and replied, "That won't be necessary." By the time he returned, we would already be legally divorced.

Domenico Pietro de Cerintti, in the eyes of everyone was the good boy, the sacrificial lamb, the one who attended all the classes and obeyed all the rules, the one who would not let a puppy get run over by a car, the one who didn't have a girl in his bed every Friday night, the one who didn't smirk, the one who girls liked but never wanted, the one who girls used and dumped, the one who wasn't badass. He lived with that image, was content with it even with the bullying until a certain day when they crossed the line, the one line they were never to cross. He disappeared. And appeared months later, in college; the college that had a good percent of his highschool student in attendance; changed, for the worse. Rosetta D'armani, one of his mates in highschool and now his mate in college, who never bullied him but who also never saved him from the bullies. She was, as defined by the male folk, hot, sexy, drool worthy. She saw him on his first day back and lusted after him. She followed him, sought after him, chased after him with every breath in her. He made her lick his heels. After all he was badass now. He smirked now, he had girls in his bed not only every Friday night but every night, the girls wanted him, he used and dumped them now, he was badass. But oh...those bullies didn't know his definition of badass. Badass for him meant revenge. He would revenge on each one of them including his beloved girlfriend. He'd show them just how hot badass burned. One mysterious girl, one desperate girl, one perfect girl and one revengeful boy. ???

He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly. “Celeste, you know Isabella has been sick for years.” “Yes, I know,” I said bitterly. “I know because you remind me every single day.” He ignored the edge in my voice. “She’s not getting better. The doctors said she probably has a year left.” I swallowed hard. “And how does that concern me?” “She has one last wish,” he said quietly. “She wants to get married before she dies.” He wants to divorce me and remarry me after a year, but that’s nonsense! I’m tired of this marriage. This divorce isn’t a joke to me; I’m taking it seriously.

After their biological son returned, my parents sent me away to Exile Island. Once one set foot on that island, one would become prey for the wealthy. Yet, they ignored my pleas, allowing those rich men who arrived on the island to take turns tormenting me. In just a few days, photos of what I had suffered on the island were sent straight to my fiancée, the heiress of an elite family from the capital. She didn’t speak up for me. Instead, she turned around and publicly announced her engagement to the true heir. During an interview, someone asked her about me. Her whole body trembled with anger as she snapped, “Him? I never expected he’d turn out like that, running wild overseas, sleeping around like some kind of degenerate. It’s disgusting.” My parents put on a show of heartbreak. “We sent him abroad to study out of kindness. Who knew he’d behave so disgracefully? From now on, the Yule family has no such son.” After I was tortured to death on that island by those so-called rich people, my fiancée and the true heir held a wedding worth tens of millions. It was broadcast live across the internet, drawing unprecedented attention. However, even more spectacular than their wedding was the wedding gift I had sent them.

My husband insisted that I wear high heels at the company’s annual meeting despite being pregnant. He compared me to his female secretary with a look of disdain. "Can’t you learn from Lucille? She’s eight months pregnant and still comes to work in full makeup, handling her tasks efficiently. If you don’t wear them, don’t go. I’ll be embarrassed!" He even tried to give the high heels to his secretary and take her as his date. Left with no choice, I forced myself to wear them. However, on the balcony, the secretary tripped me, spilling red wine all over me. Limping, I found my husband, only for him to sneer, "Tripping on flat ground? How clumsy!" Furious and pale with anger, I turned to leave. Someone urged him to chase after me, but he only got angrier. "How bad could it be? She’s so timid—she can’t survive without me! Just wait. When the event’s over, she’ll definitely be waiting in the car to drive me home." Alas, he was wrong. I turned and went straight to the hospital for an abortion.