Sandra Bullock And Keanu Reeves

My husband's beloved lover suffered from menstruation complications. A traveling doctor claimed that a fresh placenta was needed to cure her. His gaze fixated on my seven-months-pregnant baby bump. And thus, I was pinned down on the bed as they ripped the placenta from my body. My son was carelessly tossed aside. He didn't even get the chance to cry before his tiny body fell silent forever. My husband pinched his nose in disgust, frowning as he looked at me—bleeding out, feebly reaching for my child. “It’s just a premature baby. He'll be fine after a few days of care. Why are you making such a fuss? Sandra is waiting for her medicine." He left and locked the door behind him without looking back. He claimed it was a lesson I needed to learn. By the time he finally remembered us, my son and I had long since bled dry, our bodies cold and stiff.

My best friend, Sabrina Reeves, hates children. She wants a child of her own, but she doesn't want to give birth to her own child. So, she sought me out and asked me to help give birth to a child for her. She even claimed that her child would be my child, and that they'd take care of me when I grew old. I thought she was crazy. Also, I warned her that it was illegal to find a surrogate mother in our country. Out of fury, Sabrina cut off all ties with me and called me a shameless wretch. "It's just giving birth to a child! I can do that too!" But Sabrina started smoking, drinking, and bar-hopping a lot. She could never get pregnant no matter what. After that, her husband brought his mistress and illegitimate child home before kicking Sabrina out. "Even a hen is capable of laying eggs! I've married you for so long, yet you can't even get pregnant! You really are a loser! "I never said anything about you wanting your best friend to give birth to my child! But you can't even get that done! Isn't this all your fault?" Sabrina pinned the blame on me. She slashed my stomach open repeatedly with a blade. Just like that, I died from the sheer pain. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Sabrina asks me to help give birth to a child for her.

Luna is a normal medical student in california. If sucking in her desired profession can be also counted as normal. she has a fear of blood, worst half-dead bodies. But been a surgeon has always been her dream and quiting doesn't seems like an option. After countless pressure from her half-america, half-africa best friend, Sandra, she decides to take a break and go on a vacation. Been pretty normal also means a normal, not so rich bank account. so their only option on getting the much needed vacation falls on the yearly island treasure hunt game. with luck on their side they managed to make it to the top fifteen. That is, if it counts as luck when it actually brings bad luck? The two friends then set out on this adventure, meeting new friends and allies. All to realise that something was wrong with the island. But that wasn't what they were worried about. it was dying.

According to the news this is going to be the biggest yet most controversial wedding of the year, maybe of the century. Not because the famous bad boy/play boy heir Julian Fernandez and Prodigy daughter Sandra Parker who was to be one for love; they were NOT definitely in love. Not even for the biggest scandal of the year involved the woman's controversial mother but because the two of the most powerful companies is about to merge, to be one to rule. The wedding will serve as proof of sealing the deal, to stand as the foundation of the two companies' new start. In which the unborn lovechild is to solidify the wedding. The scandal between the mother, daughter and the man in between is damned as the two heads of the two powerful companies decided to use it to their advantage, overlooking the fact that Fernandezs and Parkers had been rivals in terms of supremacy and power for decades, deciding they will gain more if they move and operate as one. The whole country is watching, maybe even the whole world. “Let the matrimony of union begin.”

You’re not a bad person, Mercy. I know that.” “How do you know?” she asked, challenging him. She stared into his eyes and asked again. “How do you know, August?” “I know because….” He stopped. The words weren’t coming out of his mouth. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to answer that question with mere words. August leaned toward her, stopping just short of meeting her lips with his. He couldn’t just kiss her without her permission, but how could he blurt out the question? He couldn’t, so he waited. Mercy’s long eyelashes brushed his face as she held her breath. He moved a fraction of an inch closer to her, and Mercy lifted her face, moving toward him. His lips brushed hers, and then there was no reason for words. She just knew. *** A lost woman in the woods... Memories that won't return... A past that must be found before love can remain. Alpha August Reeves finds a beautiful woman injured in the woods. When she awakes, she remembers nothing. Her mysterious powers tell him she's a special shifter, but when others come looking for her, he realizes it's not her powers that make him special to her. Can August keep Mercy safe and help her discover her past so they can build their future together?

To ransom my husband from the black market, I threw myself into relentless work, earning every penny I could. My son suffered alongside me, sharing in my exhaustion and deprivation. Years of malnutrition had left him vulnerable, and eventually, he was diagnosed with leukemia. I wept as I scraped together money from relatives and friends to pay for his chemotherapy. But on the way to the hospital, a sudden, unbearable pain wracked him. In his struggle, he accidentally bit off his own tongue and died in agony before we even reached the doors. I clutched my son's ashes and went straight to the black market, determined to use the borrowed money to bring my husband back. The moment I stepped in, I overheard a conversation between Joe Masseria and his men. "Boss, Sandra comes every month with her payments. She's suffered a lot just to ransom you," one said. At that moment, a widow—Joe's sister-in-law, long mourning her late husband—appeared beside him. "Joe," she said, her voice calm but cutting, "all these years, you've protected me from harm, even giving me the title of a mob boss's wife. But you've kept Sandra in the dark the whole time. Isn't that… terribly unfair to her?" Joe's eyes were cold, devoid of any pity for me. He scoffed. "Fairness is ruthless. She's had all this love from me. What's a little suffering compared to that? "But she's waited for me all these years. It's time I returned—before she loses her mind and comes after you. "If she's still sensible, I'll make sure her and her son's quality of life improves a bit." I understood everything in that instant. Holding my son's ashes to my chest, I wept until it felt as if my heart would shatter. Joe—your so-called fairness killed my son. And I am done waiting for you.

For five years, I thought our marriage was solid. Then, my husband, Lionel Franco’s first love, Sandra Howard, posted a photo of a property deed on her social media. The caption read: [Thank you, Lionel, for transferring the house to me.] I stared in disbelief and left a single comment: [WTF?] Lionel called within minutes. “She’s a struggling single mother. Transferring the house to her makes it easier for her son to get into school. It doesn’t affect where we live,” he snapped. “How can you be so lacking in compassion?” In the background, I heard her muffled sobs. Half an hour later, she tagged me in another post.  This time, she flaunted her Mercedes worth over a million dollars, with the caption: [Paid in full. As the saying goes, ‘Where a man spends his money, that's where his heart is’.] I knew he bought it to soothe her temper. But this time, I had enough. I decided to divorce him.

"I'm coming for you. No matter how far you think you can run, I can assure you that you can't hide and I'm closer to you than you think." Cassandra receives this letter from her mailbox. It's the millionth time she's been receiving these threats on a regular basis and her entire life is at stake and the tragedy of her life puts not only her but her husband, Mustafa on the edge as well, as Sandra is curious as to who is planning to desperately to put her in bondage again. Who could want to put her in captivity? Could it be her ex boyfriend, Dan? No. He didn't love her. He only broke her heart and cheated on her severally so there was no way on earth that he would want her. Could it be the loan shark that enslaved her when she was nine? Or could it be her mother placing yet another risky gamble over her life?

Sandra, also known as Ruby, is a young women who meets a popular rock-star. She feels a strong connection with him even though she is engaged. As she progresses with both relationships her world is turned upside down. Both men in her life know the truth about who and what she really is. Once the truth is revealed she is now forced to pick not only a lover, but a life style. One where she lives amongst the supernatural, and the other as a normal woman who knows the truth but can never involve herself in their affairs. Which will she choose, and does she really have a choice in the matter as her role in all of this is bigger than she could imagine. Where does her heart belong, with her old life or her new one.

*Smut After her mate's brutal rejection, healing prodigy Sandra surrenders to a dangerously seductive stranger in a dark alley, only to discover he's her uncle Marcus. Trapped by blackmail in his isolated house, forbidden desire ignites between lessons. But Marcus harbors a deadly secret about her father's death. ----------------- “Fuck, Sandra,” he growled, thumb brushing over my nipple through the fabric until it stiffened, aching. “Vanessa’s right upstairs. If she hears us—” “I don’t care,” I panted, rocking up against him, chasing that thick pressure. “Make me forget today. Just tonight. Please.” I’m going straight to hell,” he muttered, then closed the gap. His mouth took mine slow this time, deliberate, like he was memorizing the taste of me. I sighed into it, hands sliding up his chest to grip his shoulders. He tasted like black coffee and smoke and sin, and I wanted more. He tugged me closer, one hand fisting in my hair, the other splayed low on my back, pressing me against him. Heat flared low in my belly, spreading fast. I shifted, trying to ease the ache between my thighs, and he groaned against my lips, grip tightening. His tongue traced the seam of my mouth; I opened for him instantly, meeting him stroke for stroke until we were both breathing hard. He tilted my head back, lips moving down my throat, teeth grazing the frantic beat of my pulse. I gasped, nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders. “We should stop,” he rasped against my skin, but his hand was already pushing under my thin tank top, calloused palm gliding up my ribs. “We should,” I agreed breathlessly, then dragged his mouth back to mine, kissing him deeper, hungrier.