Tender Unscramble Novels & Stories

"Have a good one love, sleep tight and take care" Trust me he stopped listening from love...of course he knew it was just a word with no weight but she used it anyway and it left him frozen, in fact, she had to hang up because his tongue was frozen. Once again, the great frank Tazz had overcome his fears, got out of his comfort zone and gone for what he wanted and saw fit for him. That conversation though short had given him confidence. As though he hadn't already had enough happiness United scored and he celebrated as though it was a live match, converted his celebration to a dance which was just an outside expression of how he has feeling inside, his heart was doing summersaults. And now h

Eric sighed after trying again for the ninth time. He simply just wanted to tell her his exciting news. It wasn't even exciting anymore since he could not share any news with her. It wouldn't feel the same with anyone else. Knowing Laura blocked him and so did Sam... there was only one person he could reach out to... Tristan. Tristan was not picking up either. Was this the wrong timing? Eric was pretty sure that it was still early in the US. Early enough to make a phone call. Fabiola was getting annoyed with her uncle not moving. She wanted to go home and show her parents all the toys and sweets, Uncle Eric had bought.

"Here, dear, this might help with your hangover. A little sourness to counter the bitterness." Nysaa reluctantly took the glass, the acidic scent of lemon making her wince. She sipped cautiously, the sharp tang sending a shiver down her spine. "Ugh, that's harsh," she grimaced. Dr. Ruiz chuckled softly. "It'll do you good. Eat some breakfast, and you'll start feeling better in no time."

The pasta Seren preferred with the specific sauce that required no onions because Seren had strong feelings about onions and had communicated them clearly. The scrambled eggs that required the precise amount of butter that Seren had specified in their second lunch and which Margaux had written down because she was not going to get it wrong twice. And the thing Seren called grandma bread a specific kind of sweet bread that Margaux had made on the third lunch from a recipe her own grandmother had given her forty years ago and which Seren had eaten three pieces of and declared the best thing she had ever had and which Margaux now made every Tuesday because Seren had decided it was a Tuesday lun

Evandros lost his steps and fell on the dirty ground covered with dead leaves. Once he got to his senses and raised his head, his pupils shrank. "SCARLET." He yelled at the top of his lungs, scarlet held the sword in her left hand as blood dripped down from her right arm. Her right sleeve was torn up and big claw marks can be seen on her white arm through which blood was pouring out like a rainfall.

"Just... please, drive faster, take shortcuts if you can.” As the taxi screeched to a halt in front of my friend's house, I quickly turned to the driver. "Wait, just one minute, please. I'll get your money," I promised, urgency coating my words. With a nod, the driver acknowledged my request as I flung open the door and sprinted towards Cora's house. My heart pounded in my chest as I rapped frantically on the door, my breaths coming in ragged gasps.

LUNA He removes his watch first. Then his tie. Then he tugs at his collar, undoing the first two buttons. His suit comes off next, and he rolls his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, exposing those roping veins along his forearms. His forearms always look hot. I never knew I could be attracted to forearms until Sandro came into my life and apparently ruined my standards for every other man.

I’m sorry for everything. She stared at the words, tears blurring the ink. She didn’t send it. She didn’t even finish it. Instead, she folded the paper and slipped it into the bottom drawer of the desk, hidden beneath old books and unused stationery. The letter was real her secret doubts made tangible but she wasn’t ready to let go yet.

Luckily, Macie had to book it back home soon after. Franklin, cut off and desperate without his usual luxuries and Macie's support, was struggling just to get by. He could not splurge like he used to. In a panic, he spilled everything about them on the internet.

Zack’s gaze drops to the poem Anna is pointing at, his brow furrowing slightly as he reads the title. He leans closer, getting a better look at the poem, his initial skepticism giving way to curiosity. The title itself seems simpler than some of the other abstract options they have been looking at. “Coloured,” he repeats thoughtfully. “Maybe this won’t be so bad.” His fingers trace the short lines of the poem on the page. The poem appears to explore the relationship between being lively and spirited and age. “So, you want me to analyze this one for you,” he asks and looks up at her brown eyes. Anna nods, “But first, you have to find your love poem and analyze it, then copy over the analysis