Speed O Sound Sonic

No dia em que fomos registrar o casamento, meu namorado Eder Leite mandou que me expulsassem do cartório civil e entrou de mãos dadas com sua amiga de infância. Ele olhou para mim com indiferença: — O filho da Rosana precisa ser registrado. Depois que nos divorciarmos, eu me casarei com você. Todos achavam que eu, tão apaixonada, aceitaria esperar por ele mais um mês sem reclamar. Afinal, eu já o esperava há sete anos. Mas naquela mesma noite, aceitei o arranjo da família e fui para o exterior em um casamento combinado. Desapareci do mundo dele. Três anos depois, voltei ao Brasil acompanhando meu marido para visitar a família. Por causa de um compromisso de última hora, meu marido pediu que a filial brasileira da empresa enviasse alguém para me buscar. Jamais imaginei que reencontraria Eder, desaparecido da minha vida há três anos. — Já chega dessa birra, está na hora de voltar... O filho da Rosana vai começar a frequentar o jardim de infância, e você ficará responsável por buscá-lo e levá-lo.

Na sétima vez em que combinei com Breno Lima de ir ao cartório buscar nossa certidão de casamento e fui deixada esperando, tomei a iniciativa de cortar todos os laços que ainda nos uniam. Se havia um encontro de amigos em que ele estava presente, eu simplesmente deixava de ir. Se ele era convidado para se apresentar na comemoração da escola, eu me retirava antes do início. Se a empresa decidia fechar parceria com ele, eu pedia demissão imediatamente. Até mesmo no Natal, quando ele veio me visitar em casa, inventei uma desculpa para sair e visitar outros amigos. Bloqueei seu número, apaguei-o da lista de contatos, cortei tudo sem deixar rastros. Não o procurei mais, e ele também não conseguiu me ver. Durante os trinta anos anteriores, passei a maior parte da vida apaixonada por ele, cuidando dele com todo o meu empenho. Só depois de ser deixada esperando pela sétima vez no cartório é que despertei. Não queria mais viver assim. Mesmo que fosse para ficar sozinha, não queria passar mais um dia e uma noite guardando uma casa vazia!

'Calm down Tamara, I can explain. ' My extra alert ears collected the sound waves, sending them to the brain for interpretation. I couldn't believe it! He was asking me to calm down after saying such words. 'My mind can only picture you between her legs right now, and you want me to calm down? ' The flames continued growing just as the invisible force wrenched me near him. His wide eyes met with mine as I leaned in closer to him, tiptoeing on my feet to reach just below his ear. 'The remedy for fire is fire.' My arms were convulsively grasped yet again by the inexplicable force. I failed miserably to counter the forced actions as my hands tore my blouse in an instant. 'No!' His shout was a second late because the flames died out as my hands embedded into the cloth, pulling it apart in ferocious strength. ********* Orphaned and living as the only witch in a pack of werewolves, Tamara is hated and ridiculed despite her kindness. When the Alpha of the pack, Alpha Ryker turns out to be her mate, everything changes. Their bond is fated and sealed, and so is Tamara's role in saving the pack. Their victory depends on a prophecy and one life must be lost for others to be saved. As the pack's antagonist rises to power, she must team up with her mate despite the storms, betrayal and secrets surrounding them. Will they withstand or with the storm destroy everything they have ever known?

*WARNING* *THIS BOOK CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT* *PROCEED WITH CAUTION* “Don’t… Don’t come any closer” I whispered, but I knew he heard me. “Why, My Little Vixen?” He asked in that husky tone that almost made me go weak in the knees. “Because I don’t want you,” I lied and tried to sound adamant, pretending like his touch didn’t make me weak. “I don’t think so,” He snickered and started to walk towards me like I was his prey, and he was my predator. Involuntarily, I began to move backward while he closed up on me. “I mean it, Adrian. Do not come any closer,” I warned in a slightly shaky voice, but he approached me and caged me to the wall. “Then prove it, my Little Vixen. Prove that you don't want me,” He whispered to my ears as his fingers ran through my hair, and I shivered at his touch. ***** A deal. It was meant to be just a deal between Adrian and Isabelle, but this deal ignited old flames. Old flames that they both assumed were all in the past. Then all hell was let loose when the person Isabella had known to be her brother all her life came back from the dead, claiming that they were betrothed since birth. What would happen next?

What a ridiculous thing happened to me! I was sent as a substitute for my sister for just one night but I end up marrying her supposed husband. “What are you doing? Are you not aware of the reason for which you are here?” He said and sat on the bed. I sat straight and curled my legs. “I…I….am... But I am a virgin and the thought of all of this is what scares me.” I said and Greyson gave me an evil smirk. My voice wasn't supposed to sound this weak and pathetic but I can't hide my emotions. “You have nothing to fear. I am the man who would be marrying you. Think of this as our marriage consummation.” He said and my eyes brimmed with tears. If only you knew that I am not the woman you would be marrying. I am simply her substitute. I thought to myself. Greyson reached out to my legs and dragged his fingers on them, and pulled me by the legs to himself. He frowned when he saw that I still wore a nose mask and suspicion took over him. “Remove your face Mask, Bella. There is no need to hide your face from me.” He said and I shook my head. Greyson tilted his head, and his eyes became cold. “Remove the face mask, Isabella Walters.” He said Authoritatively and I gasped. This was trouble.

In the coastal quiet of Baler, a studio is born—not of architecture, but of intention.* Founded by Yam, a poet whose words cradle pain gently, and Franc, an artist who paints tenderness into walls, the studio becomes a refuge for those learning to stay—with grief, love, longing, and themselves. As visitors arrive, they leave behind more than footprints: a sigh recorded in bamboo, a poem tucked into the “Found Letters” shelf, a mural painted in crooked lines. Through zines, tea, silence, and sketchbooks, the studio teaches softness as revolution. Ren creates the *Window of Soft Returns*, an installation of anonymous voice recordings—each whisper forming a community of echoes. Drew builds the *Staircase With No Wrong Turns*, inviting people to walk through emotions without shame. Franc offers brushstrokes as brave work, and Yam curates writing circles that map healing in half sentences. Together, they host festivals that feel like hugs, and they begin traveling their archive, letting softness cross oceans. Even those who once left—like Miguel—return, discovering that some doors never truly close. Others, like Tala, capture the studio’s sound and turn it into a podcast of breath and becoming. Over seventy chapters, the studio transforms into something larger than itself: a mural of memory, a sanctuary for second chances, a place where return is sacred and voice is proof of survival. In the final bloom, the studio stands not as a monument—but as a reminder: > *“Staying isn’t easy. > But chosen together, > it becomes home.”*

“Valerie.” My head snapped up at the sound of my name. The Alpha was standing by the sofa, unbuttoning the neck of his coat. “Come,” he said. “We don’t have much time.” Much time? For what? A chill moved up my arms. I wouldn’t dare ask—not that I needed to. I was not an innocent child anymore. All of my training had been for this moment. There was only one reason why werewolves purchased young, human virgins. Sex. I was a slave. A pet. And my master could do whatever he pleased with me. _________ When the war started. They fought. They slaughtered. We were nearly wiped out on the earth. Surviving humans were classified into three categories: free humans, Servants, and Slaves. My name is Valerie Davis. My parents were accused of committing a crime against the creatures in the war. After their execution, I was captured and sent to the cell as a human slave. I lived in that cell for years before I was transported to a Slave Shop, where I would be picked by a Master. It was during the dry season when I was put in the display box. I wasn't afraid like the other girls, because I was unwanted for my weirdness. I was despised for being the criminals’ daughter. I was lucky, as the masters wouldn’t want to lay a finger on me. But then the Alpha came. When he looked at me, he said he want me. ___________________________ Daily Update!

"Limits, Charli. I'm going to f**k you like you've never been f**ked. Tell me now if I've crossed that limit. Tell me now if you don't want this." Words didn't form; instead, I pushed my ass backwards until it brushed against his erection. Sometime during his speech he'd freed it from the confines of his slacks. "Last chance, Charli." "Please." My word was barely audible. He tugged my hair again. "What did you say?" "Please, Nox. I want you. Take me." He didn't need to be sure I was ready. The evidence glistened under the awful fluorescent lights. The sound of the condom package tearing was soon replaced by my whimper as he plunged... *** One Week. No Last Names. No Regrets. Alexandria "Charli" Collins is done playing the perfect Southern heiress. At an exclusive California resort, she meets Nox Demetri—a billionaire as enigmatic as he is irresistible. When he boldly claims her as his "wife" to ward off an unwanted admirer, their explosive chemistry ignites a no-strings affair that quickly spirals beyond either of their control. But Nox is hiding dangerous secrets, and Charli's past won't stay buried. As their week of passion draws to a close, reality comes crashing in. Can a temporary escape survive the real world—or will the truth destroy them both?

Blurb The downpour washed the dark alleys of Ole Keating Village like Jupiter is wrathful towards the small town. Every time the lightning slashes the skies sending frightening thunders everywhere, the little boy’s strides become faster. “You’ve got nowhere to run, boy.” He harshly covered his ears just to get away from the taunting voice. The heavy rain somehow managed to wipe the blood from his body yet the pain unrelenting to grow. He fell on his knees resulting in another painful and ugly scratch to bleed. He looks like a beaten rag. He hasn’t eaten for days and the fearsome encounter he just escapes didn’t guarantee his safety. Even limping, he tried to get on his feet just to stumble and fall on the cold, hard ground again. A loud sound of the honking car filled his ears as the blinding light approaches closer. Surrendering, he lied flat on the ground wishing the pain finally ends. Sounds of boots slapping the water from the road come into his senses but he’s too weak to care. Someone’s checking on him but all that he can think of right now is the girl she left alone in the old warehouse. “S-save her…” he mumbled, tasting blood in his mouth, “Please save her.” The darkness pulled him and he finally gave in.

Lívia Lins e Ian Santiago estavam casados há três anos, mas, enquanto planejavam o aniversário de casamento de três anos, ela descobriu que a certidão de casamento era falsa... A verdadeira Sra. Santiago, na verdade, era sua melhor amiga! Por três anos, Ian, Viviane e toda a família Santiago a enganaram como se ela fosse uma tola. E a razão para tudo isso era ela ter sofrido um acidente de carro que danificou seu útero, impossibilitando-a de ter filhos. Mas, na época, o motivo pelo qual ela se feriu tão gravemente foi por salvar Ian! Ian: [Eu te amo, eu só quero ter um filho!] Viviane: [Eu não quero atrapalhar o relacionamento de vocês, só quero fazer parte!] Lívia: [Você está maluca?!] Já que eles acham tudo isso muito divertido, então ela vai entrar na brincadeira também. Querem tirar dela o projeto que é seu? Que seja, ela se casa com o herdeiro de uma família rica e, num piscar de olhos, se torna a cliente mais importante do próprio projeto. Não querem dar a ela um casamento digno? Ora, cem bilhões de reais de dote resolvem isso, e a cerimônia se transforma no evento mais comentado da cidade inteira. Duvidam que ela possa ter filhos? Ela dá à luz gêmeos perfeitos, sorrindo de leve enquanto eles ficam verdes de inveja, impotentes diante de sua felicidade. A notícia do casamento do herdeiro da família rica se espalhou rapidamente, e todos lamentavam pela suposta sorte da sua nova esposa. Todos sabiam que o herdeiro ainda amava sua primeira paixão, a sua musa intocável. Embora ela já fosse casada, ele nunca a esqueceu. Dizem que, no dia do casamento da sua musa intocável, ele ficou inconsolável e chegou a tentar se suicidar. E houve até quem o visse assistindo repetidamente aos filmes estrelados por ela, chorando sem conseguir se controlar. Quando Lívia dá à luz, pensando que é hora de deixar o herdeiro e a sua musa ficarem juntos, ele a segura nos braços e grita desesperado: — Quem espalhou esses boatos sobre mim?! Querida, você precisa acreditar em mim!