Novel & Cerita Twintail Hair

“It’s about midnight, the cool and gentle breeze will be blowing by now. I remember setting my bound hair loose to feel the soft but harsh power of the wind, sending cold shivers down my nape; the blinding bright lights illuminating the street would be lit. What about the big mansions? Situated right beside the lone empty road. So sad I can’t see or feel any of that; these great white-cornered walls would not stop me from reminiscing the beauty of taking a night walk; "who would have thought, this beautiful street conceded an Asylum?!" Emilia Vilia-Rosario was dragged into rivalry and a revenge war between,The Pedro's and her family. She was tricked into signing a contracted marriage proposal to Mariano Douglas Pedro, the billionaire heir to Pedro's Fortune.

She was a piece of Heaven he wanted to own. And he, was the flames of Hell she wanted to tame. "You must be tired." The unparalleled face softens with an indulging smile, and I nod hastily like a chick pecking at grains. My reason, wisdom, and rationality became words of a foreign tongue when the fingers tangled amongst my hair trail down to my cheekbones. The caresses like the fine strokes of a paint brush that gave colour to my skin. "But next time." His eyes of hellfire narrows, reflecting the features of a iolite-eyed mortal, and crimson lips pull back over sharp canines. "I might not be as easy to tame." ■What happens when the greek god of the Underworld becomes the 'Grumpy Patient' to a kind hearted mortal, burdened by a curse untold and a gift unrivalled.■ Slow burn Update schedule : Every 2 days ◇

His hand wrapped in her hair, yanking her face up to him to look into his angry eyes. "Tell me where the fuck is he?" He growled, making her shudder in fear. "Tell me now!" "I..I..won't..." she whimpered due to a sharp pain shot through her skull. He grabbed his pistol and pressed it right on her temple, snarling, "Are you going to tell me or you wish for death?!" "I want to die…" she cried out. Anger roared through him, he pressed the gun in her temple wanting nothing more than to kill that bitch right that moment but something snapped inside him when his eyes fell on her body, and a cruel smile curved his lips. "Not before getting a taste of you!"

They said it was just a phase. A crush. A mistake she’d forget by morning. But obsessions don’t fade. They grow. In Filthy Obsessions, lust doesn’t whisper, it grabs hair, rips buttons, and leaves bruises in its name. These stories are not sweet. They’re soaked in sin. A therapist who doesn’t use words to fix broken marriages. A judge who sentences two sisters to submission, then joins them. A father’s best friend who doesn’t just watch,he waits, dark and patient, until she begs for him. An art professor who sketches her body in secret... then ruins her innocence on the altar. These men aren’t heroes. They’re cravings in human form. And the women who fall for them? They never recover. If you’ve ever whispered “What if…” Filthy Obsessions was written for you.

Claire is in training to take over her cousins trades business. She is out to prove herself and nothing or no one is getting in her way. Her first voyage out to sea to complete her first assignment the unthinkable happens. her ship is attacked by pirates. Staring at the ship attacking them and then the tall dark captain; Something feels familiar. The Captain feels familiar. The Captain of the pirates is in debt and over his head in a bad situation. Not only does he owe a notorious pirate who is now calling himself the king of all pirates. He just became and enemy of the crown. Could this golden hair feisty annoying woman be his under cover angel? Will Claire help him right his wrongs and in return him help her prove that she is worthy of running her cousins business. Book two in The Morning Star saga

On the day of my wedding anniversary, I was cleaning my house when I found a picture album. As it turned out, my husband had been religiously taking pictures with the girl of his dreams every year on this precise date. He had been doing it since he was forty years old and he was now sixty years old. His hair had progressed from a jet black to a faded white and yet, he kept up the tradition. There was a written message in his handwriting at the back of the picture that read, “Eternal Love.” Since he doesn't love me, I will no longer bother washing his clothes and cooking for him. I will no longer care for his children and grandchildren. I may have foolishly wasted half of my life, but it was not too late to make a change.

After wrapping up a book signing out of town, I received a message from a friend on the way home. "This personal trainer is something else. He can do all kinds of things with an exercise ball." He also sent me a Live Photo. In the Live Photo, a woman was lying on an exercise ball, pinned down by a man. Her hair was covering her face. In the Live Photo that was a second long, I heard a familiar moan. I called my fiancée. "Where are you?" Her voice was a bit hoarse, "I'm training with an exercise ball at the neighborhood gym, babe. I have a big surprise waiting for you when you get home." I snorted and said, real slow, "How about I give you a big surprise right now? Open the door!"

Suzan, 11, is trick-or-treating with her friends when Simon dares them to visit the haunted witch’s cabin. Although she’s scared, Suzan refuses to go with them and heads home. Later, she learns from her friends that after they knocked on the door, a window shattered, and they ran in fear. Later, Suzan returns home, only to be comforted by her mom after losing her candy. At home, Suzan is comforted by her mom after losing her candy. However, strange whispers and scratching sounds soon disturb her. When her brother Luke checks, he reassures her, but the noises return, and Suzan spots glowing eyes in her closet. The figure grabs her by the hair, draining her life force before dragging her out the window, leaving her family helpless.

On the day we were supposed to get engaged, my fiancé, Marco, married the Don's daughter. My father was framed and thrown in jail. I needed five million dollars to get him out. Then Marco found me. "Be my mistress," he offered, "and I'll save your father." I smiled and turned to the man lurking in the shadows, a man known for his power, brutality, and his stone-cold heart. They said the king of the underworld never let a woman spend the night. But with me, he buried his head in my hair, his fingers tracing the curve of my waist. The floor-to-ceiling windows, the mahogany desk, and the ornate carved bed all became our battlegrounds. And there was one thing I forgot to tell Marco. The man I was with was Dante Landini, the cold-blooded Don of the Landini family, who was Marco's soon-to-be father-in-law.

Three years of marriage, and I'd become known in our social circle as the ultimate doormat. My husband staying out all night, his silent treatment, bringing his first love home to flaunt in my face—through it all, I'd smile and make him hangover soup, keeping the house spotless. Everyone thought I loved him to the point of madness. Even he believed it. Until the day of the divorce, when he begged me with tears in his eyes not to leave—and then watched "me" collapse rigid to the floor after a power outage, revealing a charging port on the back of my neck. He lost his mind. Meanwhile, the real me was lying on a beach in the Maldives, running my fingers through the hair of a gorgeous twenty-something with a six-pack, cheerfully pressing the "factory reset" button.