Summer On The Bluffs

Lesley Hummer, my husband's sister, lies to me about being unable to conceive. She wants me to help her produce a child. To my shock and horror, my husband and mother-in-law agree with her! I refuse to give in, so they drug me and force me into bed with my her husband. When the pregnancy comes to term, I give birth to a daughter. My husband and his family go nuts because it's not a boy. They kill the baby before my very eyes! They even take away all my organs that can be exchanged for money. Then, they continue searching for a surrogate for Lesley. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day Lesley kneeled before me to beg me.

When Sethlzaar, a child of the conisoir, is chosen by a man in a cassock, it is with a confused acceptance that he follows.A life in the priesthood, though for those considered blessed, is no life at all. However, Sethlzaar has nowhere else to be and nothing else to lose. With a new name and a new purpose, he is determined to survive the tests of the seminary as the priests forge him and his new brothers into blades destined to serve as sacrifices to the cause of Truth.In the end, choices will be made, legends born, and loyalties tested.But above all else, Sethlzaar Vi Sorlan will have to face the truth that perhaps he's not as blessed as he'd been led to believe...

Empty vessels make the most noise, and men who fit that description to a tee hardly make for suitable partners. When Corinne had to go on a blind date with someone like that, she did the unthinkable simply to show her disinterest in him—she kissed a handsome older man whom she had never met before. "I hereby pledge myself to you," the older man vowed. If a single kiss from her was all it took for him to devote himself to her, would a second kiss entail much more? There was only one way for Corinne to find out…

I died beneath the Ferris wheel. The killer took a photo of the Ferris wheel and sent it to my mother. 'Mom, I want to ride the Ferris wheel with you too,' wrote the killer. In my mother's voice message, her tone was filled with hatred as she replied, "How dare you ask to ride the Ferris wheel with me when you killed your own sister? Why won't you just die?!" As she wished, I was dead. However, what she didn't know was that the one who killed me was my so-called dead sister.

The fake daughter married my boyfriend. My mouth was taped and I was being chopped into pieces by her admirer. The entire family took turns to call me. My mother said, "How ungrateful you are. I should not have brought you home back then." Father added, "Don't bother coming back if you do not attend Samantha's wedding." Brother said, "Let me tell you, you shall root in hell if you choose not to attend the wedding." At that moment, I didn't even have the energy to shout for help due to excessive blood loss. Everyone lost their patience, "Speak up! Are you dead or what?" I could only see the calls being disconnected. One thing they did not know, I was really dead.

I was five months pregnant when my husband, James Fletcher, allowed his mistress to invade our lives—on the very night of our wedding anniversary. But she didn’t just come to flaunt her presence. She came to take my life. Pregnant and vulnerable, I confronted her, desperately clinging to my dignity. But the fight ended with me tumbling down the staircase, my swollen belly crashing against the cold, hard ground. Blood seeped across the floor, vivid and unrelenting. James only arrived after hearing about his precious mistress’ ordeal. He stood there, staring at the pool of blood, at my broken body. But instead of helping me, he rushed to her side. She had nothing but a few superficial scratches, yet he swept her off to the hospital like she was the one dying. By the time he returned, my child was gone. The doctors barely managed to save me. And what did James do? He struck me in front of everyone, his words sharper than the sting of his hand. "Lisa only wanted to bring you a Christmas gift, and you attacked her out of nowhere! You shameless witch!" “She didn’t force her way in! What nonsense! I gave her the house key ages ago. You just can’t stand that she’s prettier and kinder than you!" “You didn’t just hurt her. You killed my child! You vile, despicable woman. Why couldn’t it have been you instead?” Lisa stood beside him, pretending to comfort him while flashing me a smug, victorious smirk. James’s vicious tirade didn’t stop there. He dragged my name onto the internet, painting me as a monster.

My husband's childhood friend says she wants her crystal beads to soak up some of the good luck in our home. Because of that, he scatters the beads on the floor, making me slip and miscarry. I'm in agony as I lie on the operating table. I call my husband incessantly, but all he does is block my number. I lie in the hospital ward after the operation. I see my husband's childhood friend's social media update—a photo of him worshipfully holding out a certificate while getting down on one knee. It's captioned, "He loves me so much! I said I'm interested in running a business and he actually set up a company for me!" On the day of the branch company's grand opening, my husband's childhood friend wears an expensive custom-made gown. Meanwhile, I wear her discarded goods. I'm barred from even entering the building. I suppress my bitterness and call my lawyer. "Are the divorce procedures done?"

Keputusan sang ibu untuk menikah lagi sudah cukup memberatkan hidup Tara di usianya yang masih belia, belum lagi ia harus dihadapi dengan kenyataan bahwa Raka—cinta pertama sekaligus mantan pertamanya—kini berstatus sebagai pacar saudara tirinya, Kaila, yang juga teman kelasnya. Apa yang harus Tara lakukan di saat sikap Raka menunjukkan bahwa lelaki itu masih mencintainya? Melanjutkan kisahnya yang belum usai, atau malah mengubur perasaannya dalam-dalam?

Pinagtagpo ng tadhana ang dalawang taong magkaiba ng estado sa buhay. Ngunit ang tadhana rin ba ang gagawa ng paraan upang sila'y maghiwalay? Sila ba'y mananatili sa isa't isa? O, mas pipiliing lumayo para sa ikatatahimik ng kanilang mga puso? Will they still hold on to each other, or. . . move on?

My four-year-old son dies after someone crashes into him with a motorcycle. The culprit is a college freshman who's just been admitted. I'm devastated, but my husband generously forgives her. "We have to give her a chance since she's such an outstanding student. She's still young—we can't ruin her future." Ha. She has plenty of opportunities and a bright future ahead of her. What about my son? He was only four. Later, I rip his letter of forgiveness to pieces before his face. He wants me to forgive the young lady? No way in hell!