When God Writes Your Love Story Book นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Jack was Bailey's high school sweetheart. Though through the years their relationship or lack thereof was far from perfect. Jack had always been obsessed with Bailey but never showed how much he longed to be with her. Her curly red hair and those green eyes where to much for him to handle. Her scent was intoxicating. Vanilla....cupcakes...cookies... The thought of her made his mouth water. If she ever knew his secrets she would surely never look at him the same way.

The 7 Gold Lifes are 7 Billionaires who rules America. Aaron Samuel, Sky Locason, Alexander North, Maximillion Cesantio, Luke Hastington, Sebastian Cesborn and lastly the leader, Kenneth Domanco. The work hard to get where they are. They have the money, the looks, the power and they can easily get women. They swore that they will never settle down but slowly one by one they're falling in love. Will they decide to settle down or just fool around? This series consist of 8 books in total. Prologue: Loving Blake Coster BLS #1: The Red String of Fate (Aaron Samuel and Sophia Celastio) BLS #2: Challenging The Billionaire (Sky Locason and Janet Stanmore) BLS #3: Dealing With Trouble (Alexander North and Angelia Selosvone) BLS #4: Stabbed by Rose (Maximillion Cesantio and Rose Hastington) BLS #5: Beautiful Nightmare (Luke Hastington and Hailey Anderson) BLS #6: Locking Her Heart (Sebastian Cesborn and Alexis Sierra) BLS #7: Breaking The Last (Kenneth Domanco and Chloe Regens)

If you like a romance novel with an element of mystery in it, a sexy read, spiced with a little humour, or a warm and involving family-centred story, then you've come to the right place.

All her Life She grew up with a word from her dad "Only Good persons are allowed to live" Having an ability to see people's memory after a skin to skin contact, with the other party, she decided to use it in her own way But is her way of using the ability right or wrong He is a proud son of the Miller Family but became a detective to find out the death of his parents How will this two meets And what awaits them in the near future

Lucas Ashton and I have secretly dated for five years. We're preparing to announce our relationship during a business dinner. However, he doesn't mention a word of it during the dinner. Instead, he leans close to me and whispers half-jokingly, "I'm sick of sleeping with you and want to call it quits. Shall we not disclose our relationship?" I smile and nod. Then, I point at Emily Lane, his first love. "This is Lucas' girlfriend." In my past life, I pleaded with him not to leave me. All that got me was torment and death.

I have a secret about my body. When I'm intimate with someone, my private part emits a fragrance. Despite being married to me for a decade, my live-in husband has never smelled it. One day, my family goes bankrupt, and I'm forced to become an escort. He looks at me imperiously as I kneel on the floor. He says coldly, "I'll pay you a hundred thousand dollars to let me smell you once."

When my wife, also the president of a company, learned that I had voluntarily donated part of my brainstem tissue to awaken her long-cherished love, who had been lying in a coma, she finally left the abbey where she had been praying for his recovery for the first time in seven years. She came to the company and asked what compensation I wanted. Everyone assumed I would seize the chance to ask her for a child to secure our marriage. Instead, I handed her a divorce agreement. For a moment, the entire office thought I was simply playing hard to get. My wife’s expression turned icy. She stripped me of every position I held, then immediately promoted her beloved man and raised his salary, telling me to reflect on my mistakes. Little did she know… The surgery had cost me my memory. The man standing before her now was no longer the husband who had swallowed every grievance. He was now the spirited young man from seven years ago. And this time, he would never sacrifice himself again.

When we were about to head to the amusement park, my Beta boyfriend, Drew, brought along a woman and her daughter. There happened to be one seat short in the car. Drew told me to get out and give my seat to the two of them. “Laura has a kid with her. Let them go first. I’ll come back for you later,” he said. I calmly stepped out and watched as the car slowly pulled away from the pack. Three hours later, they arrived at the amusement park for the fireworks and feast. When a friend asked Drew why he still hadn’t come back to get me, Drew was patiently helping Laura light a giant firework. He wasn’t in a rush at all and even said, “It’ll be fine if I pick Sienna up later. She won’t mind. I’ll coax her a bit, and she’ll stop being mad.” Anger only worked on people who cared about someone. My dad, mom, and brother never cared, and now, not even Drew cared anymore. It was time for me to leave for good.

Every Thanksgiving, my husband, Salvatore, brings home a showgirl from one of his clubs. He makes me kneel and serve them drinks. A lesson, he calls it, in how to please a man. This was the eighth Thanksgiving, and this time, he brought back a girl poured into a tight leather dress. "She doesn't have any decent jewelry," Salvatore announced. "Give her your heirloom diamond ring. Your grandmother's pearl earrings, too. And take off that silk choker for her." He smirked. "And listen, she's young, doesn't know the rules. You'll have to show her the ropes. Especially how to handle a man in bed." Every member of the Genovese family was watching, waiting for my humiliation. I didn't disappoint. I opened my mouth and asked Salvatore for a divorce. Salvatore let out a sharp, ugly laugh, his eyes full of contempt. "Francesca, you pull this same shit every time," he jeered. "Your act is pathetic. Even more dramatic than your performance in bed." He leaned in. "You really want to divorce me? Fine. I'll give you five million in cash if you actually walk out that door." The living room erupted in laughter. They all said I was playing hard to get, that I didn't know my place. But they didn't know. This was the 88th time I had asked for a divorce, and it was the first time I truly meant it.

On the day Yara Cullen was released from prison, it was raining. A chilly wind carried the drizzle, striking her as the media swarmed the prison gates. "Ms. Cullen, in the Crestwood Estate sexual assault case, your client lost the lawsuit and took her own life six months ago. Her mother is demanding accountability. Do you have anything to say?” "Ms. Cullen, your attorney's license has been revoked, and your mentor was forced to retire. What are your thoughts on this?" No matter how the reporters pressed, Yara kept her head down and pushed forward, forcing her way through the crowd. A black G-Wagon was parked by the roadside, where Westley Langston leaned against the car, smoking a cigarette. Beside him, Elena Cullen tugged at his arm. He turned, glancing toward the prison gates.