What Lightsaber Form Does Rey Use Novels & Stories

"Chels, you're turned on too, aren't you?" During a visit to the haunted house with my best friend, Chelsea Higgins, and her boyfriend, Ivan Benton, Ivan has mistaken me for Chelsea and has embraced me from behind. I can feel his warm palm slowly sliding up the hem of my skirt in the pitch-black darkness. At the same time, his hot breath keeps splaying over my nape and my earlobe. The most embarrassing thing is, I'm starting to get turned on by Ivan's actions for real.

My husband, Chandler Goodwin, claims that he doesn't understand what the phrases "silent treatment" or "giving the cold shoulder" mean. Yet, in the three years we have been married, he has never once spoken to me sweetly. The first time we have a falling out, I remain proud and dignified. We end up ignoring each other for seven days straight. The seventh time we have a cold standoff, I start to panic a little. However, despite trying all sorts of methods, he doesn't back down. The 11th time it happens, I have already learned to work through my emotions myself. Chandler doesn't even need to say anything before I take the initiative to apologize first. I simply think that he's just a naturally indifferent person, that nobody can warm his stone-cold heart. Then, on the third year of our marriage, I accidentally ruin his dress shirt while ironing it. Chandler doesn't say a word, but that very night, he packs his things and moves into a hotel. On the third day of being blocked, I head to his company with a handwritten apology. While passing by his office, I spot him leaning over to shoot his angry assistant a doting smile. "I'm sorry for raising my voice at you just now and upsetting you. It's been 57 minutes since you started ignoring me. Please stop giving me the cold shoulder, alright?" I freeze on the spot, the apology letter in my hand practically burning my fingers. As it turns out, it's not that he doesn't know what the silent treatment means—it's just that I've never been the person he wants to coax.

A split second before I swipe my card at the Hermès boutique, I hear my unborn son's scream inside my head. "Mom, don't buy this useless designer bag! The zombie apocalypse is only a month away! This is inedible, and it can't be used as a weapon either. What's the point of buying it? Buy essential food! Sell that limited-edition sports car at home and trade it for a bulletproof armored vehicle!" My hand trembles, and the purchase order worth millions scatters across the floor. The sales associate looks at me with disdain and says, "Ms. Webb, if you don't have enough funds, you can always come back another day." I ignore her and immediately turn around to call the owner of the wholesale market. Without wasting any time, I order, "I need 10,000 pounds of potatoes and 5,000 pounds of beef. Make sure it's the kind with the fatty parts! I want it delivered immediately!" From this moment onwards, the socialite Phoebe Webb who only knows how to shop is gone. In her place stands a survivalist obsessed with preparing for the end of the world.

Warning: This book contains explicit dark content, dark romance if you’re not in for a ride, please skip!! (Tales of a masseuse) Strictly 18+

Jean Marie Vianney jeune garçon intelligent très mignon va user de son charme et jouer avec les sentiments de deux de ses conquêtes. Une guerre sans merci va prendre le dessus et coûter la vie à un des héros de même qu'à sa propre Famille.

“I, Audrey Kyle of the nightwalker pack, reject you, Kevin Miller, beta of the nightwalker pack as my mate, I sever the bond binding us together as I accept to go rogue” I declared as he felt it in his chest. I felt a deep pain in my chest, like a knife had been pierced through my heart. I had not only rejected Kevin as my mate but I also accepted to go rogue. He looked at me with anger and hatred, that kind of look would have bothered me in the past but right now I felt nothing for him anymore. “You want to go rogue? That’s the worst. You know what the rules apply to going rogue. You will be an enemy of the nightwalkers pack and you will be chased away by any other pack, they will see you as a threat” he told me but at this point I didn’t care.

Maribell is a shy young woman who has spent her whole life seeing to the needs of her siblings after her father ran off. She spent her life being hated by her mother and treated like trash while her twin is given everything on a silver platter. Maribell is on her way home from working a double shift at a diner when she is attacked from behind. When she comes to she's in a cell facing a strange man she has never seen before. While in his cells she meets a mysterious woman who vows to set her free before she can be sold off. Margo and the Devil's Knights work together to free the people trapped in the cells while Dex works with a journalist to expose Bernard's and the Island's secrets. Dex and Maribell meet and she's instantly attracted to him but her own experiences before she met Bernard are enough to make her pause. She works at the club and learns more about Dex and his painful past when his mom and sister walk into the bar. Maribel learns that not all men are the same and the men of the Devil's Knights would fight to protect a woman or child in a horrible situation. Things are going well for them until her mother and sister barge into the club demanding that she come back home. Bernard is still on the loose and someone is pulling some strings in the background. Margo and Kane are intent on seeing justice served one way or another and the Island shut down no matter the cost.

In the dark room, my husband's friend, Jason Laurier, keeps hugging me tightly. He completely ignores my acts of resistance as he keeps touching and kissing me. Only when I gasp out in pleasure does he murmur into my ear, "Let me help you…"

Dark Mafia Scene “Who laid a hand on you? Dallion's voice was low, cold, and dangerous. His dark gaze bore into her, daring her to stay silent. When she didn’t respond, the tension snapped like a whip, his voice booming through the room, “Who?” The butler, standing rigid against the wall, swallowed hard before stammering out the words, “It... it was Mr. Rivers, sir.” The atmosphere turned deadly as Dallion's jaw clenched, fury igniting in his eyes. “Bring him to me.” The butler’s eyes widened in fear. “N-now, sir? It’s... it’s late.” Dallion's hand, once braced against the wall near her head, slowly curled into a fist. His eyes never left her face, his possessiveness was palpable. Without looking at the butler, his voice dropped to a lethal calm, “Do you need a better time? Or shall I break your legs to teach you urgency?” The butler didn’t need any more encouragement. He fled the room, returning twenty minutes later with a trembling Mr. Rivers. “Dallion, my friend, what’s all this about?” Rivers began, his voice casual as if nothing was amiss. But Dallion wasn't’t here for pleasantries. His eyes slid to the knife stabbed into the apple on the table, and in one fluid motion, he yanked it free, the blade glinting in the dim light. Without a word, Dallion grabbed Rivers outstretched hand, slamming it onto the table. The sharp scream that followed echoed in the room as Dallion, with one swift movement, sliced through the man’s fingers. Blood splattered across the polished wood as Rivers screamed in agony, clutching his mutilated hand. “No one touches what belongs to me,” Dallion's voice was eerily calm, his expression devoid of any sympathy.

She died once in fire while the man she loved watched her burn without a single step forward. Elena Vale was the villainess of a romance novel—written to be hated, destroyed, and discarded at the end of the story. And she did die exactly like that. Until she woke up at the beginning of it all. The night of the Arden Charity Gala. The night everything was supposed to start. This time, Elena remembers everything—every betrayal, every humiliation, every moment she was written to lose. But instead of begging for survival… She chooses revenge. Because if the world insists she is the villainess, then she will become one they cannot control. A woman who does not beg for love. A woman who builds power instead of tears. A woman who turns her ending into a beginning of destruction. And as she rises, something strange begins to happen. The male lead who once ignored her starts watching. The heroine who was supposed to replace her starts trembling. And the system that once promised her survival begins to warn her: [WARNING: Villainess behavior exceeds original plot limits.] But Elena is no longer afraid of the story. She is rewriting it. And this time… she will be the one they fear.