Novel & Cerita Really Good Pick Up Lines

Missy moves to a small town in Northern California after walking in on her boyfriend in bed with someone else. The picturesque cottage she bought outright isn’t as picturesque as she was promised. She is forced to hire the only contractor in town to make it liveable, even though she can’t stand the man and his rude and crude remarks. Adrian Brewer is a single father, fighting for his parental rights for his daughter, and doesn’t need another woman to bring more drama into his life….but there is just something about Missy that makes him tease her like a little boy with a crush and has him wishing for more. When Adrian makes repairs to her new home, can he also help repair her heart? Can she repair his in return? When their past comes back to ruin what they started building together, will the foundation of their budding love be able to withstand the storm? Will Missy let it all burn down? If it does, can Adrian build it back up?

Price Inn's billionaire restaurant owner Daniel, a self-proclaimed insomniac, finds himself in an unexpected and unnecessary squabble with his ex-girlfriend Serena Waldorf. Determined to unlock the monstrosity hidden behind Daniel's charming face, Serena challenges him, upholding her vow to tame her sleepless ex-boyfriend. What starts as a game turns into a love debate, reigniting the lost passion and love between them. As they navigate the dilemma of whether to reconcile or separate forever, the CEO and his pastry chef find themselves embarking on a path to unveil their poignant pasts while parenting an orphan, Nathan who becomes the key to healing their solitary hearts. 

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 His life turned to turmoil when his body swapped with a teenage girl; Kylo a withdrawn, bullied teen.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.

The Mad Donna He Never Really Married For three years, I was Donna of the rising Valenti family. One day, Enzo was holding a meeting at a private cigar club. I worried about his stomach issues, so I went to bring him his usual antacids. Standing outside the private room, I heard his men laughing. “Don Enzo, are you really going to keep Clara hidden away at the Silver Lake villa forever?” “That mad Moretti heiress in the main house is still parading around as Donna of the Valenti family.” Enzo rubbed the bridge of his nose and scoffed. “If she hadn’t taken a bullet to the head for me and gone insane, and if I hadn’t desperately needed her family’s capital, I never would have married a woman with no blood ties to the life.” “But Clara is my legal wife. The family trust, the marriage certificate at City Hall, it’s all in her name.” “Stella’s just a plaything I keep at the main house. Once Clara gives birth to an heir, I’ll bring her home for good.” My knuckles turned white as I squeezed the small box of medicine, the cardboard crumpling in my hand. He had exchanged blood oaths and rings with me in the church, yet it was Clara who had signed the papers at City Hall. He played me for a fool, all to keep Clara’s reputation clean. Clutching the box, I turned and melted back into the shadows. He had no idea my sanity had returned three days ago. He would never guess I had already sent an encrypted message to my brother, who runs a business empire from our home in Solaria, far across the sea. I was done with this goddamn Valenti title.

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.

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.

My husband and his beloved mistress died together in a car accident. They left me with a pair of illegitimate children. Eighteen years passed in a blur. I poured my heart and soul into raising those children until, at last, they earned admission to Corvell University, the country's top university. But on the very day they received their acceptance letters, my 'dead' husband returned. And beside him stood his mistress. She clutched my husband's arm and beamed at me. "Thanks to your tireless care, my two sons finally made it into Corvell. If not for you, the two of us wouldn't have been free to live so happily together all these years..." Later, my husband demanded a divorce. He wanted to marry his mistress and reunite their perfect little family of four. I didn't cry, nor did I rage. I only smiled and said, "Sure."

"We'd like you to come with us to the station immediately," Vanessa's heart began to beat faster, "I don't understand," she said, "What for?" "Mrs Spencer, you're wanted as a prime suspect in the murder of your husband, Mr Christopher Wesley. You need to come with us to the station for questioning. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you do or say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. I suggest you don't try to resist. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?" Vanessa's jaw dropped. Christopher was dead! It was impossible to believe. She'd just spoken to him that afternoon. It had to be a mistake. She nodded, "I…. I…. I need to call my lawyer," she said, when she finally found her tongue," "Ma'am, you can do that at the station. Turn around, please," —----------- Politician and governorship aspirant , Christopher Wesley is dead ; shot in the head right in his own house. The killer is unknown, but the police have a suspect —his estranged wife, Vanessa Spencer Detective Alaric Harper and his partner are placed in charge of this case and at first Alaric is certain that Vanessa had killed her husband. Her motive? He's not sure of. Could it be spite? Maybe the money? Or maybe she just got tired of him delaying their divorce? He's determined to find out and he's sure that he will, but one thing he never expected — falling for her…..

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.

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. ???