The Book Woman's Daughter: A Novel นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Serena felt the big city sure lacked a bit ethics and etiquettes but at least it didn't believe the manner of caging women all life. "Well now you did." The unknown woman of early 20s commented as she passed a short chuckle out as a reply for Serena who smiled a little. Soon watching the woman pinch the flame of the cigarette on the railing of the balcony and then flicking the cigarette off carelessly the second later. Serena knew that the unknown woman did that to not make her feel uncomfortable with the smoke anymore. Serena appreciated that gesture well. At least she was considerate enough for her presence. "What is your name?"

- The girl nodded. -Although only the first part of the novel, the other part of the manuscript is still being written so I don't know the end but I liked the story a lot, I want to know what happens with their daughter and the wolf that she claims. I admire the protagonist. She is very efficient and strong, and she doesn't care what others say about her- -Oh, it sounds interesting, Izen will take it- he announced to the wolf, putting the manuscript inside her tunic.

When she reached out, her sleeve slipped back, revealing bruises. Gasps rippled through the crowd. The whispers started. People looked at her with sympathy, at me with doubt. At sixteen, she already knew how to play people like a game of chess. No surprise—she was a homewrecker's daughter, after all. I pulled out my phone and pressed play. The recording of her own words rang out for everyone to hear. Her face paled. The crowd's murmurs shifted. I smiled. "First of all," I said, "the daughter of a homewrecker has no right to play the victim. I didn't beat you, so it's none of my business."

I try not to beat myself up about it, I might never get to know the truth behind their lives and how I and Monica came to be with Mom and Dad not being here. But I meant it when I told Ian to release her allowance. She’s our father's daughter and he would want her taken care of even if she is a shitty daughter. But I suppose we could let her stew for a few more days. I flip the page of one of my favorite novels, Red Winter by Annette Marie. I’ve read the series countless times and it’s sort of a comfort book for me. My first exam is in two days, but if I read another word or equation about finance I was going to lose my damned mind so Red Winter it is.

He plucked the phone from her fingers, tossing it onto the couch with a smirk. “Thank you, George.” She spoke softly to his ears. "Don’t mention it," he murmured, patting her head like a child. *** Lydia stepped inside the bookstore, tucked between two cafés on Rosewood Street. The chime above the door jingled, and the scent of books, pages and cedar wood filled the air. She wasn’t here for a book. She was here to ‘breathe.’ The storm of the past few days…the divorce, the headlines, and the arrest.

" You already believe what you want to believe. Will it make any difference if I tell you the truth all over again? You are deaf, dumb and blind. " The woman was still persistent. " But who are you? " She begged again. " Oh, don't you know me already. Did you just not introduce me to your daughter as the Daughter of the Damned? " With another wave, she left the room as it was again engulfed in darkness. The only thing left behind was the tingling sensation of sprinkled stardust.

The lake had tiny waves dancing on the surfaces, the birds were flying and there was a serene relaxation as the wind blew through the chimes. Jasper eventually closed the book, it was a slow movement as he gently placed it together and put it on the bench next to him. ”I know who wrote it,” he said. ”Who?” ~Avery~ ”My great-great-grandmother. She lived in a little village with her parents and siblings. She met the love of her life and they had two children, a daughter, and a son. Her name was Mary, she had a premonition one day, she knew the risks her family would face if she chose to tell the others in her village. It was an attack by the creatures who haunted them, she saw how they burnt t

"He wasn't expecting it. I ran before he could get back up and I took his best horse because I needed one and because he owed me considerably more than a horse." I looked at her. A bastard daughter who fought off her own father well enough to break three bones and walk away. Who could recite classified treaty language from memory. Who mapped rooms and held her spine like she'd been trained to take up space in rooms that didn't want her and fought back against men twice her size. None of it added up to what she was telling me she was. "And then you came here," I said. "I had nowhere else to go." "Why here specifically? There are closer fortresses. Pack houses along the border that would have

Toward the woman who kept building walls between us while I kept trying to tear them down. And the worst part? I couldn’t even blame her. I dropped into the chair in my study and rubbed my palms over my face. The E.C. Ledger sat open on the desk like a wound I didn’t have the strength to clean yet. A massive, leather-bound book… thick enough to be used as a weapon and full of thirty years’ worth of political filth. I flipped through the early pages, Rowan’s handwriting sharp and neat. Each line was worse than the last: money passed under the table, bribes disguised as “resource allocations,” land traded for silence, budgets rewritten to hide the truth.

She whispered into the silence, “Goodbye.” Eva touched her hand, grounding her. “He chose to disappear. We choose to stay.” *** That evening, the villa gathered around the hearth. The children insisted on reading from Eva’s manuscript—her book, titled Hidden Vows. She stood with her small frame lit by the glow of the fire, her voice weaving words into the night: “Once there was a woman who forgot herself, but she found herself again in the eyes of her daughters. She was not the same as before—she was more. She was every version of herself, broken and remade. And in that truth, she was free.”