Warm Lift Artinya

On my twenty-third birthday, my brother, Zackary Dixon, became the wealthiest man in the country. He threw a grand birthday party for the nanny's daughter, saying that she would be the Dixon family's favorite. At the same time, something went wrong with my artificial heart. I couldn't find a suitable one, only one month left in my life. Due to the torture of illness and great pressure, I had no choice but to call him. Hearing my cough, he coldly said, "At that time, you were afraid to get involved, and now you regret it?" My throat was sore. I stared at his expressionless face through the phone and laughed bitterly. "Zackary, three hundred thousand dollars is no big deal to you. Help me, OK?" Zackary sneered. I could hear his warm voice comforting Lillianna, "Voice phishing. It's fine." Of course, he was fine, because his sound beating heart was mine.

“I don't know anything. P-please...let me go.” She pleaded with her eyes half closed as her lips trembled due to his close proximity. She could feel his warm breaths on her face. She whimpered feeling a hand grip on her hair yanking her face up. Her entire body was sore and shaking from all the torture she had endured from this man. “Angel,...” Sylvester whispered in her ear. “Are you telling me the truth?” Lucia could feel the coldness of the mouth of the gun plastered to her temple and she broke into more sobs looking up to meet his dark eyes. “I swear...I-I don't know anything a-about Lily...she...” Her voice ceased when she felt his hand at her chin. “I believe you angel. But it seems that bitch has left us something behind to take with us as compensation.”

“Darlene Roberts, you're under arrest for the death of George Martins.”I look up with misty eyes only to see a bunch of cops, guns blazing and aimed at me. Funny enough, I don't even freeze neither do I panic. My attention goes back to my ex lover whose limp body is still warm with blood oozing from his forehead and chest. His shirt is torn and his big eyes are staring blankly at me. I've managed to help shut his mouth which was agape and his twisted lips. It seems he had put up one hell of a struggle before he gave up the ghost.“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in the court of law.Does the cop mean what he has just said? I mean, I'm not the murderer here. I rushed here to help as soon as I could!

Madeline Crawford has loved Jeremy Whitman for twelve years, but ultimately it was him who sent her to prison. In between her suffering and pain, she had to witness her man fall in love with another woman…Five years later, she has returned with renewed strength, no longer the same woman he belittled years ago!With this newfound strength, she will tear apart those who pretend to be pure and step on the scums of this earth. However, just as she is about to have her revenge with the man who wronged her… He suddenly turns from a cold, unfeeling psychopath, to a caring, warm and loving man!In fact, he even kisses her feet in front of a crowd, all while promising her, “Madeline, I was wrong to love another. From now on, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you.” To which Madeline replies, “I’ll only forgive you if you....die.”

"Why can't I stay away from you?" he whispered into my ear, his breath warm against my skin. "I only have one option, my princess - I'm going to ruin you the way you have ruined me." *** Four years ago, Kat lost her memory and was taken in by a "family" working for the mafia - turning Kat into a thief. Enzo, scarred from a mission for the King, distrusts everything and everyone. However, when he runs into Kat, he finds himself drawn to her like no one he'd ever met before. Only, life takes a spin when it is discovered that Kat is the long lost Werewolf Princess, and over night she has more men fighting for her hand in marriage than she could ever imagine. Only time will tell who will be able to claim her heart - and protect her from an unseen danger.

One Lust Dance is a modern Cinderella-type story with an interesting twist that all started with the masquerade ball. It is a romantic comedy with lots of naughty and intimate scenes. The plot revolves around a young, handsome billionaire named Edward who meets a mysterious, masked woman at a ball. Edward and the mysterious masked woman are locked in the cellar, and in order to keep themselves warm, they drink the wine and get drunk. The burning passion of lust tainted her innocence as she ventured into a world of desires and submissiveness. Edward wasn't able to see who she was because she was wearing the mask the entire time; all he could remember were her physical features and the passionate night they spent together. Edward searches the whole province of San Lorenzo to find her. He dated all the lovely women who matched her physical appearance in hopes of finding her. Little did he know that the one he'd been looking for was just in front of him.

"Lift your hand," I said looking at how he held onto his bicep with a tight grip. "Let me take a look at the bullet wound." "No tesoro. I can do this myself," Vittore grumbled and I gave him incredulous look. "Don't start that bullshit with me Vittore. Remove your arm and let me help you or..." I trailed off, not able to say more. I was still in shock but I could do this. "Just... just let me help." "No." I glared at Vittore. "Why are you being so damn egotistic?! Let me help you! Do you know what it was like to find you like... and to..." I couldn't even get all the words out. "Let me help you. Please." Begging wasn't something I'd ever do but I just needed him to let me help him. "No-" "Why?!" I suddenly exploded. "Why won't you just let me help you?!" "Because I don't know how to handle it ok?!" Vittore suddenly exploded, his dark eyes glaring at me. "I don't know how to handle these... feelings. Fuck tesoro you drive me crazy! Don't you see that? You make me question everything I've ever known and... I can't..." I watched Vittore as his expression turned determined. "Fuck it." He leaned forward and pressed his lips on mine.

Two years ago, as a graduate of Werewolf Medical School, I volunteered to go to the most remote and poorest pack, as it had always been my dream to help werewolf patients in need. I heard from my teacher that the werewolves in the Rogue Pack were the poorest and that their living conditions were the worst. Most of the werewolves there were old and weak, so I volunteered to go to that pack as soon as I graduated. After I arrived, I helped them build an infirmary and even set up a blood station. Every year, I led them in voluntary blood donations. But one time—right after I had taken a short break following a blood donation—they turned on me. They slandered me, calling me a selfish and heartless healer. Worse still, they accused me of faking illness, claiming I was lying comfortably in bed while patients were dying—refusing to lift a finger to save them. Not only that, they stormed into the infirmary, seized all my herbs and equipment, and completely trashed the place I had built for them with my own hands. Recalling the days I had spent day and night healing them—only to see my infirmary destroyed and my dream shattered—I let out a bitter smile. I picked up the phone and called the dean of my home pack. "I'm ready to return," I said. "I want to serve the patients in our own pack." Then, without a trace of regret, I left that place behind. However, after I gave up, the whole pack regretted it and begged me to return.

Victor and I were nothing more than a pair of sworn enemies married inside the camp. He hated me for handing over my frail sister to the research institute, all so they could extract the antiviral serum from her blood. And I hated him for never seeing anyone but her, even in the apocalypse, when she could barely lift a metal rod. For the ten years of the apocalypse, the words we said to each other most often were, "Die a miserable death." … However, when the zombie horde finally broke through the last line of defense, he chained me to the modified mech truck and went out alone to face it. "Live…" I watched as the tide of corpses swallowed him whole, the crack of breaking bones mixing with the sound of flesh being torn apart. On the edge of death, he pulled out my sister's faded photo and placed it over the one clean spot on his chest. "This life is yours. But if there's a next one, don't go near her again." … That night, when I returned, I blew up the camp. When I opened my eyes again, I went to the zombie king. His razor-sharp claws closed around my throat, and I smiled as I took hold of his hand. "Let's make a deal. Give humans five more years, and I'll willingly be your queen." Last time, he gave his life to save me. This time, I'll be the monster—so they can all get what they want.

Kakeru is a 23-year-old who has been living with his older brother's family for a few years now. His daily life oscillates between work and a very warm home where he is so well-taken care of that he has been spoilt. Moreover, his three-year-old niece is rambunctious and expressive enough that he is kept forever entertained and feels needed. The household is always lively and welcoming, which Kakeru attributes to being the reason for his prolonged stay and for his older brother's best friend Hiromitsu's regular visits. "We were two stray souls who had been taken in by this loving young family." However, he feels that it is time to move into a place of his own because he is now an "adult". Nevertheless, life is as perfect as he would have wanted it to be- all up till certain incidents leave him questioning the very ideal home and relationships he had let himself believe in.