Over My Dead Body Book

DE GUIA SERIES 2: Love is Dead Cheating is never in Alyson's dictionary. Kilala siya sa angkan ng mga De Guia bilang dakilang Ambassadress ng Pag-ibig. Kaya naman emotera siyang nag-itim at nagpa-reserve ng puntod nang madiskubreng niloloko siya ng nobyong si Ramon - ang lalaking tunog-kanto ang pangalan pero may abs. Ang malaking problema niya: Paano siya magwawala at maghihisterya sa pait ng pag-ibig gayong Triple A lang ang karakas ng baterya niya? Sino ang tutulong sa kanya sa paglilibing ng feelings kung buntis at baliwag ang masasandalan niyang pinsan na si Erin? At paano siyang hindi madi-distract sa aali-aligid na bigote at abs ni Noonie Valderrama? Love is dead. Or does it really die?

My daughter was violated and killed, yet her death was ruled a suicide. After seven failed appeals, I kidnapped the chief prosecutor’s daughter. I tied the chief prosecutor’s daughter to an autopsy table and publicly addressed the prosecutor’s office in a live stream. “I performed the autopsy myself. My daughter didn’t kill herself. She was murdered. “I’ll give you seven chances. Release the actual evidence and name the murderer publicly. Each time a chance runs out, I’ll remove one of her body parts.” The chief prosecutor and his wife knelt on the floor. They begged me desperately to spare their daughter. “The evidence proves your daughter took her own life. Stop this madness now and let my daughter go. She’s innocent.” Viewers in the live stream called me insane. They said I had lost my mind with grief and was taking it out on an innocent person. I ignored their contempt. With a sneer, I picked up a scalpel and pressed it against the judge’s daughter’s abdomen. “The clock is ticking. Hurry up and reveal the true murderer now.” I knew perfectly well the real murderer was watching the stream at that very moment.

He is looking so upset and he doesn't want to say why. He just pinned me to the wall that moment and looked into my eyes saying to me. “...I have no intention to cause you any pain but today l have to do that. You can call it selfishness or whatsoever you choose to call it but l don't have a choice". Once he said these words to me l began to shake in fear. Although l didn't know why but l knew something bad was about to befall me. What could it be though? Immediately he showed me the collar l didn't just assume any longer l was sure now. He put the collar around my neck and made it very tight. Lord Ethane never makes me wear my collar when we are alone. I almost broke down in tears but l knew a day would surely come when he would do this to me but I really didn't expect it to be on my second day with him. It really is too soon.

As Don Julian Vitale's woman, I've accompanied him every step of the way, from the streets all the way to the peak. It all starts because I don't like the way Julian's god-sister, Milena Santoro, uses so much force in dressing my wounds that I've dismissed her in favor of other people. The next day, my explicit photos are plastered all over the underground casino's chips. I clutch my abdomen, which still sports the stab wound I've blocked for Julian. As I search for him, I end up overhearing his subordinates' lewd laughter outside a private room. "Winona sure is hot, Don Vitale! Now that her body's printed all over the chips, our luck has tremendously increased as well!" "That's not it! Previously, Don Vitale rewarded me by letting me grope Winona's chest! Because of that, I was able to seal a business deal that's worth tens of millions of dollars!" "Then again, Don Vitale, won't Winona get into a fight with you for spreading her explicit photos like this?" Julian puffs out some smoke while toying with a casino chip with my crotch printed on it. "She's just a plaything whom Lady Luck favors. Without my protection, she's even lower than a mutt. Besides, she's nothing compared to Milena, and yet she has the gall to complain about how much force Milena uses in dressing her wounds?" As the crotch-imprinted chip is flung onto the table carelessly, I feel my heart dying once and for all.

It never crossed Danielle's mind that she would cross paths with her arch-rival, Karl, a business mogul in Northtide. Sparks flew but in more ways than one. One day, a reporter asked during an interview, "Mr. Burt, on behalf of the women, what is an ideal woman to you?" "Someone like my wife." Thus, Karl's secret marriage to Danielle spread across the world.

Taking his place on the throne, the King crowned his golden girl his queen. I, on the other hand, was granted two choices—retire from court with a hefty fortune or be his kept mistress in the dark. Choosing neither, I hung myself on the clothesline right outside the laundress quarters. I had been sent back twenty years in time, tasked by the System to conquer four targets. I’d just blown the last target and my final chance to complete the quest. The System notified me that following the death of my flesh, my consciousness would return to the modern world, back to the arms of my family. Just as I closed my eyes, the desperate cries of my name caught my attention.

Alpha Darell doesn't want a mate, and neither does he want to settle down as a family man. “Why have a wife when you can have many girlfriends?” He'd normally say. And unsurprisingly Darell's 27th birthday, which is also his Mate Selection day, becomes the happiest day of his life. Why? The Priest says his ordained mate is dead. But this joyous day soon becomes Darell's worst, when he meets his so-called dead mate—A vampire woman who had just woken up from a deep many years ago.

Brandon Garcia made a biggest mistake of his life. He hurt and ruined the only woman that love him so much at the very crucial time of their relationship. He regretted his decision but he couldn't undo things that happened already. Feeling down and rejected she ran away from him. And now after four long years their path crosses again. She changed. Not the same Candice he used to know before. He realized that he love her still. But for her he was just a forgotten past.

My father died of esophageal cancer. For the final two years of his life, he could barely swallow anything. By the time he passed, he was nothing but skin and bones. The first New Year after his death, he came to my mother in a dream. "I'm starving," he said. "I just want to taste the thick-cut steak you used to make." My mother believed it without question. That very day, she pan-seared a large platter of steak and carried it to his grave. The next morning, she suffered a sudden heart attack and died on the spot. Devastated, I handled my mother's funeral together with my husband. That same night, my husband dreamed of my father as well. "Chester," he said, "I haven't eaten in so long. I want your pâté, served with some strong liquor." When my husband woke up, he bought the finest liver pâté, opened a bottle of single-malt whiskey, and went straight to the grave. However, not long after returning home, he collapsed from acute liver failure. He was rushed to the ICU and died three days later. I was on the brink of collapse myself. I left my daughter in the care of a close friend while I tried to handle the endless wave of tragedy. That evening, my daughter never came home from school. I searched everywhere, and finally, on the road to the cemetery, I found her. She was clutching a bowl of spicy stew, several grilled sausages floating in the broth. "Mom," she said, "Grandpa and I used to eat this all the time. I dreamed he said he was hungry." I finally lost it. I knocked the bowl from her hands and carried her home. That night, my father appeared in my dream once more. "I suffered so much while alive," he said. "Have some pity on me. "New Year's is coming. I want to come home for a meal. Make sure you cook fish." I woke in terror. Holding my daughter, I sat before the three framed portraits for two full days without eating or drinking. On New Year's morning, I realized she was no longer breathing. Clutched tightly in her hand was a packet of spicy dried salmon. I could not believe it. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother, her eyes red with worry, said she was going out to buy steak.

Three days after my daughter was born, my husband was killed by a car while running to the store for some groceries. I was so devastated I passed out. When I came to, his funeral was already over, and a stranger was standing in my living room. "I'm your husband's twin brother. I'll be around to help take care of you and the baby." Later, I locked myself in the bathroom with his urn, sobbing uncontrollably, when I overheard his buddies talking through the open window. "Dude, you’re so cool blooded. Inventing a twin brother just to dodge diaper duty? What's next—triplets and quadruplets coming out of the woodwork too?"