Paint Brush Artinya

I am an Omega. One day, Alpha Carl Blanchard found me in the Borderlands and took me in. After we formed the mate bond, he spoiled me senseless, never once caring who was watching. Now, everyone was whispering about the cold, ruthless Alpha who treats me—an Omega who used to be a Rogue—like I'm something sacred. They said it defied everything the Moon Goddess ever intended. I used to think he loved me down to the bone, that he just couldn't help showing the whole world how crazy he was about me. But then, I overhear him talking to his close friend. "I'm the Alpha of the Eastlands. I rule ten packs. If I don't paint Daisy as my weakness and my one obsession, how else am I supposed to keep Fiona off my enemies' radar? Turns out every wound I took for him was a damn joke. If that's how it is, I'm done playing Luna of the Eastlands. On my last day there, I made one call. "I'm in. I'll head to the Borderlands and spend the next ten years in closed research on medicinal herbs." When Carl found me gone, he came after me with bloodshot eyes and his pride in ruins. "Daisy… are you really leaving me?"

"Camille had only been heading to her grandma’s house because Gran couldn’t figure out her cable again, but she stumbles across the city’s notorious graffiti artist along the way. And now that she knows who the face behind the spray paint can is, she can’t seem to listen to her friends’ sage advice and follow the safe path, leaving well enough alone. She’s determined to coax Black Crimson into agreeing to an exclusive interview so she can become the famous newspaper journalist she’s always wanted to be. But in this contemporary twist to the Little Red Riding Hood fable, our red-headed heroine learns just how dangerous talking to strangers can be...to her heart. "

She was a piece of Heaven he wanted to own. And he, was the flames of Hell she wanted to tame. "You must be tired." The unparalleled face softens with an indulging smile, and I nod hastily like a chick pecking at grains. My reason, wisdom, and rationality became words of a foreign tongue when the fingers tangled amongst my hair trail down to my cheekbones. The caresses like the fine strokes of a paint brush that gave colour to my skin. "But next time." His eyes of hellfire narrows, reflecting the features of a iolite-eyed mortal, and crimson lips pull back over sharp canines. "I might not be as easy to tame." ■What happens when the greek god of the Underworld becomes the 'Grumpy Patient' to a kind hearted mortal, burdened by a curse untold and a gift unrivalled.■ Slow burn Update schedule : Every 2 days ◇

I put my t-shirt down, my hands shaking. I try to ignore them and stare at my reflection in the mirror. My hair color is dark brown and a vague hint of golden. My dad used to say that my eyes are ocean blue. A guy in my history cl once said that I had perfect s. Another guy said that I had a great body. They wanted to date me. And I dated few of them. I brush my fingers in my forehead. Then my dark, thick eyelashes. The side of my nose. My s. I run my hand at my neck, then across my collarbone. Am I beautiful? Honestly, I don't know. Maybe I'm not. "You were wrong, Angelina Valentine." A voice inside my head suddenly whispers. "Calm down, Angel," another voice whispers. It's the voice I loved. His voice is fading away. My hands start shake again, my breath rapidly quickening. I am losing control. I have to do something. "Goddammit!" I punch the mirror with my fist. It shatters into thousand pieces. My reflection has shattered into thousand pieces, too. The mirror now looks to me like an art. And my bloody knuckles. "I am sorry, Edwin. I can't promise you anymore, because you left me." I bite my to stop myself from crying. I won't cry. What's the point of crying? My sixth sense is suddenly alert. Somebody is watching me. I spin around. A guy is standing in front of the door, leaning against it. He wears a tight blue shirt, the sleeves folded. His black hair is ruffled and his hands are folded across his chest. The probable most amazing thing about him is his eyes. They are dark green. They are dangerous, beautiful and incredibly unreadable. And they are watching me.

Growing up as a beautiful, smart, and obedient daughter, Auva Fermentera is like the perfect child that all parents desire to have. With all the money that her family has, it seems like there is nothing they can’t afford to have. But soon later, Auva realizes that it is not true when her family opposes her dream to pursue painting. Obeying them at first, Auva learns to stand up for herself when she was blamed of her engagement being cancelled as her fiancé runs away. A very cliche move. Only to find out that he is hiding in the same place she decided to start her new life. A place which will be like their canvas while they paint each other’s life. With every stroke of their paint, a bunch of colorful memories come together. But it only takes one event that made their paint brush break which stains their built memories. Will they try to fix it? Or will they let it be as it is?

Book One Kelly Bradley didn’t need to worry about falling in love when she came up with her plan to marry Jack Sutton. She’d dated so many great guys over the years, but not fallen in love once. Not with any of them. It just wasn’t in the cards for her. So, when she approached powerful, sexy Jack Sutton and proposed a temporary marriage-of-convenience, she wasn’t one bit concerned that her heart would be on the line. But, when Jack agrees and she moves into his home, Kelly quickly discovers just how wrong she was. Before she knows it, not only is her heart on the line, but her life is, too. Book Two After a near-death experience, artist Ashley Price is compelled to paint visions of the dead. Then she paints a man buried alive and, recognizing the surroundings, she rushes to save him. Instead of being grateful to her for rescuing him, Detective Jack Sullivan accuses her of being in league with a serial killer. He swears he will put her behind bars. Except, the more time he spends with her, the more he falls under her spell. Can he trust her, or is he walking into another deadly trap?

“You think you can tame an old daddy like me?” Mr. Domenico Lombardi’s stone-like voice makes me nervous, but I’m not backing down; I know what I want. “Yes,” I added a nod to confirm it but cursed internally at my luck. I’ve never had a boyfriend, and here I am trying to tame a man old enough to be my father. It is said that the apple does not fall far from the tree. I guess I am truly Kate’s daughter. I had an internal laugh at my stupidity. He scoffed, and I responded by nodding once more while watching the darkening of the silvery gray pupils in his eyes. How come? I brush it off as his cold eyes wash over me. Domenico Lombardi’s presence makes me squirm. When I’m around him, I get the impression that I’m being judged and ignored at every turn. “How old are you?” “18” “How old is your father?” “38,” I replied truthfully. “Well, I’m 37 years old.” He stared at me; his eyes darkened again, and I became terrified. I fiddle with my nails, clipping them together as I lean back on my heels to help relieve some of the anxiety he’s causing me. “You see, I’m like a father to you, or maybe a grandfather or a great-great-grandfather. How many boyfriends have you had in your life?” “None.” He chuckled as I responded. “You see, I’ve lost count of how many ladies I’ve fucked, thousands or millions, over the centuries. You are just a little girl to me with nothing to offer; now, get lost!” “My panties made you hard!” “You think so?” “Yes,” I responded confidently. “Well, I wasn’t hard; I just have a donkey-like cock.”

"I keep the world safe from his people, but now he's the one protecting me.The Sluagh has come for me and nothing stops them. The monsters of Fairy chitter and cackle and screech all around us while Tiernan holds me tightly, hiding us within his magic. Under the cover of some roots, his body laid over mine, we wait. His lips brush my cheek. Our rapid breaths merge. My palms press against his chest, molding to his muscles and pulsing with his heartbeat. The terrifying sounds around us echo into silence but as I stare into his silver eyes I know the danger hasn't passed. This man—this fairy hunter—could tear apart my world.Fairy-Struck is created by Amy Sumida, an EGlobal Creative Publishing signed author."

“I didn't think you'd come,” Mason Remington said. Lisa's breathing slowly increased as she tightly gripped the contract in her hands. It was already rumpled from the many times she'd read it, playing its letters like a movie in her head, over and over. Was she honestly considering it? She had a boyfriend. And even though she had always wanted Mason, craved him for years, he was her brother's best friend, who before today had never thought of her as anything other than a little sister. She knew what he wanted and what she'd be getting into if she went through with this, but all those thoughts seemed to vanish as she made her way into his office. Mason closed the distance between them, drawing her close with his hands to her waist and closing the door forcefully behind her. He now had her in his arms, giving her a small smile before crushing his mouth to hers, shutting her up before she could say anything. His hands moved up her back and crushed her tiny body against his, causing a quiet moan from her. He kissed her as though he was hungry for her. It wasn't just a show of power but desire. And with every brush of his tongue against hers, she knew all too well, that there was no way on earth she could say no to his proposal.

My fiancé, Skyler Grant, barges into the art gallery where my work is being exhibited and trashes the place. "You plagiarized Leah's work and pushed her to jump off a building! I can't believe you have the gall to have an exhibition here! I have to seek justice for her!" He sets the gallery on fire, leading to stray glass shards damaging my eyes. I'm tormented by the pain of losing my work and vision when Leah Rivers returns. She says indifferently, "It was April Fool's yesterday, and I was just fooling around. You're not mad at me, are you?" I charge at her hysterically, but Skyler shields her. "They're just some canvases—so what if they're gone? You can paint them again." He has no idea that I'll never paint again.