The Portrait Of A Lady Mga Nobela at Kwento

One of them adjusted his grip, and the wrapping slipped further, exposing more of the image. It was recent. Anna looked prettier—thinner—but unmistakably real. Her gaze in the portrait looked like someone begging for freedom. She looked trapped. “Excuse me,” Mrs. Ruth said suddenly, her voice shaking. The men paused. One of them frowned. “Ma’am?” “That portrait,” she whispered. “This portrait looks good. Where did you get it? I would love to get one for myself.” The men exchanged a quick look. “I’m not certain you can get it close by. This portrait is rare in Sicily, and you can only get it from one man,” the taller one replied.

"I'm Lydia. Please, just call me by my name. It feels more like me that way." A shared, amused chuckle passed between them. Taking advantage of the lighter mood, Lydia glanced around the room. "Okay, Nanny Miriam, if you don't mind me asking... whose bedroom is this? I really don't want to pry, but who is she?" She pointed toward the striking portrait hanging opposite the bed. The painting depicted a breathtaking woman with rich brunette hair standing beneath a glowing sunset in the middle of a vibrant lavender field. It was beautiful. Yet even though Lydia couldn't make out the woman's features clearly from this distance, something about her felt strangely familiar.

His hopes heightened! Anthony went silent and thought. But later on he sighed in regret, “I don’t know who that lady in the portrait was… I only saw that portrait once and I won’t be able to forget it because the lady on it was extremely beautiful and the necklace she was wearing was definitely eye-catching.” “Where?.. Where did you see that painting?” “That’s the problem… I saw that painting in the mansion owned by the Vienna’s… However, there’s no one who was currently there since the whole family went on a vacation last week.” Anthony regretfully said.

JOAN'S POV I stared at her in shock. She was the lady from the armor room, the one who was stating at me. She's real. I thought it was just a figment of my imagination. I bowed my head respectfully "Good afternoon, Lady Irene." She was seated by the window, looking at her laptop. The sunlight shone on her skin. As I looked up, I couldn’t help but marvel at her beauty. The magazines and blogs that featured her did her no justice. In person, Lady Irene was breathtaking. Her porcelain skin glowed and her pretty brown eyes twinkle in the sunlight. She had long and luscious auburn hair.

" When I asked, he smirked. He looked like someone who could kill her in the next second. TWO YEARS LATER I smiled as I slowly stepped out of the car; there were a slew of directors waiting for her, including the CEOs of small businesses who all wanted to collaborate with me. The powerful Miss Eleanor, the image I made for myself solely to exact revenge on him. Only a few people have seen my face, but all have felt my wealth. Only a few people will see my face before I exact my revenge. I was wearing a mask on my face and an umbrella over my head. At the time, I was the wealthiest person in town, and only a few people had seen my face.

Rathi took that in her hands with a smile and saw the one more painting under that. Perceiving that Rathi is greatly embarrassed because he has painted a woman naked, she decided to keep it back but she couldn't as the portrait is so prodigious to see. In that painting, a lady was lying naked on the bed in a dark room. She is facing her back and looking at the bright red moon in the window. She reached the canvas before her and found it's the same room portrayed in that. Then her curiosity to find that woman. The girl's face is not seen but she has Rathi's body structure, her hair and when she took a closer look at her hip she saw the scar, and there Rathi identified it's her.

What was your inspiration to write The Lady and the Scoundrel? I am a writer and full-time editor for many different projects, including a short story magazine. I wanted to write a contemporary romance inspired by my favorite romance novels as an exercise in discipline, to see if I could take on longer writing projects. There are several winks to what once was one of my favorite romance novels sprinkled throughout the story, so you can say it’s very loosely inspired by that one. If any of you figure out which one it is, let me know in the comments! While the historical setting, characters, and plot are completely different, it draws on the famous concept of the strong female lead that has

Ashe yells, causing me to startle. I had completely forgotten the treasure and the fact that we still had a job to complete, I was so lost in John and our kiss to even think clearly. I walk over to Ashe while Lizzie and Corie fix up my grandfather. There’s a heavy lock on it, that I break with the head of the shovel. Flipping the lid open, everyone gasps at what is inside: jewels, gold doubloons, and a painting. A painting of a beautiful woman with raven hair and pale skin, sharp cheekbones and full lips, blue eyes piercing through you as you look at her portrait. A soft smile plays on her lips in the painting, her blue eyes a gleam with mischief. Pulling the portrait out, I turn over the fr

I spotted a small frame hanging on its own, far from the other frames. In the picture frame, there was a stunning lady whose beauty captured the essence of elegance and grace. Her long, flowing hair was a rich shade of chestnut brown, cascading down her shoulders in gentle waves. Her almond-shaped eyes were a striking shade of emerald green, with thick lashes that framed them like curtains. She was dressed in an elegant black gown, with a deep V-neckline that showed off her collarbones. But beyond her physical beauty, there was a certain aura of confidence and self-assurance that emanated from the lady in the picture. It was as if she knew she was a queen, and no one could ever take that awa