Why Are Hands So Hard To Draw

My mom ended up in a vegetable state because my husband's childhood sweetheart hit her while drunk driving. When the police asked her to take a breathalyzer, Sarah swore she hadn't drunk anything and dared them to draw her blood for a test. At the hospital, James faked the test results. He staked his career on it, producing a clean report that cleared her of driving under the influence. The day she walked free, he went to pick her up. I screamed at him, "Don't you know she hit my mom?" He shrugged. "Margaret is not dead. She'll wake up, okay? Why are you freaking out, trying to ruin Sarah's life? Will that make you happy?"

Ever since my mom gave birth to her second child, everything in the household is tied to drawing lots. Everyone has to draw lots in order to decide whose favorite food will be served for each meal. We have to draw lots to see who among us gets a hug from our parents. Every time, I end up drawing the short end of the stick, so everyone automatically assumes that my younger sister, Anabelle Madden, gets the better lot. She easily reaps my parents' love without having to do anything at all. Whenever I feel like crying because of the injustice, Mom will scold me instantly. "I bought the lottery box because I was worried that you might feel upset about this. I'm doing this just to be fair to both of you. "If you want something, you have to be the one deciding who gets what. Your father and I won't interfere with your decision at all. Since you can't draw the better lot, that just means you have bad luck." Hence, I keep practicing my lot-drawing skills every day, hoping that I can eventually draw the better lot in order to obtain my parents' love. But for ten years, I never get to draw the better lot. Not even once. On my birthday, Anabelle wants to go to the amusement park, so Mom tells us to draw lots once again. I secretly glue two short lots together before giving it to Mom in an attempt to get her to stay with me. Instead, she slaps me and berates me for being a disobedient child who cheats in lot-drawing. Then, she leaves the house with Anabelle. When I fall to the floor, I feel the short sticks piercing through my neck.

I had been married to Derek for six years, and we had a three-year-old son. He was poor, earning only $2,000 a month, but I had no complaints; I took care of everything at home for him. After getting dinner on the table for the whole family, I finally had a minute to check my phone. A video popped up on my feed: a twenty-two-year-old girl from a rural area whose hands, roughened by years of hard labor, looked like they belonged to a sixty-two-year-old woman. I looked down at my own hands, just as worn and scarred, and stared at them blankly before tapping into the comments. I expected people to feel bad for her. However, to my surprise, the comments section was flooded with a single sentiment: "Why would anyone marry a penniless loser?" One of the top-liked comments came from a couple; in their photo, they were pictured holding hands—fingers tightly intertwined—with the girl sporting a massive diamond ring. The accompanying caption read: "A man who truly loves you would never bear to let you suffer." I felt a pang of envy. Given the choice, who wouldn't want a glamorous life? As I was about to close the app, I accidentally tapped on the couple's photo, enlarging it. In the background, previously too blurry to make out, was a face I recognized. It looked exactly like my husband, Derek Sterling. I froze, and almost against my will, I tapped into the account's profile. Post after post of lavish photos of them together flooded my screen. And then I saw him clearly. The scar above his brow, the one he got when a shelf fell on him while protecting me, was still plainly visible. It was my husband. It was Derek.

They call me “The Devil.” Deranged and violent. Gorgeous but frightening. I’m a businessman, so when one of my debtors offers me his fiancé in exchange for a debt settled, I figure why not? The woman will be a quick sell. Repayment comes in the form of a beautiful but haunted young woman. The light in her tempts the darkness inside of me. Teases it, tortures it. I want to hurt her. I want to break her. I want to keep her. Luckily for Celia, she fails to see that there is no goodness in me. And when she attempts to draw me in with her innocence and sweet, naïve heart, I thrive to show her the cruel monster I am. This is a dark mafia romance that contains non-con/dub con, graphic violence, and sexual themes. It is not a standalone novel and ends on a cliffhanger.

Danielle Millman has had enough of life in NYC, after being betrayed and publicly humiliated. She craves a fresh a start and after a friend's suggestion, that is exactly what she is getting at remote boarding school in Vermont. The only problem is that the girl's side was full, so she registered as Daniel. She had her mother's actress gene in her, so pretending to be a boy shouldn't be too hard. That is, until she falls a classmate. Asher is confused by the draw he feels towards his new friend Danny. Asher is ladies man.. so why is he interested in a guy? Asher is questioning his sexuality as Dani questions how long she can keep up the ruse.. especially when she runs into a familiar face. One she had hoped to never see again.

Many Teenagers dream and yearn to live up the dream, but Pablo's case is a lot more different, find out, in Living The Dreams.

Six months ago, I was accidentally poisoned by wolfsbane. The poison is deadly, and my days are numbered. My body gradually weakens. Today, my wolf is completely gone, and I have three days left to live. On the last day before I draw my final breath, I agree to donate my kidney to my sister. Thrilled, my mate swears that he'll make it up to me someday. My sister is being swamped with insults on the college forum after she was caught plagiarizing my Belladonna thesis. But I come forward and claim that I'm the one who plagiarized it. Mom and Dad are pleased, saying I've finally become mature. At last, I've become the perfect mate and daughter in their eyes. But why are they crying after my body has turned cold and lifeless?

Olivia Rawles. 20 year old woman who has life is far from perfect. Become a victim of bullying, an orphan, and have to work hard to make ends meet. No one ever wanted to approach Olivia, for various reasons that were always brought up by those around her. One day, a tragic accident that befell Olivia is able to change her life. Olivia wakes up in the body of a 16 year old girl. Olivia's new life begins. Now, he has to live life as a pre-teen girl named Celine Angelista. Back to school. His life now is much easier than his previous life. He no longer needs to bother making money, because he is reborn in a rich and harmonious family. All the family affection, and everyone's attention was on him. Only to an Olivia who became Celine, the child from a family of officials. Not to mention, Olivia must be involved with an ex-boyfriend Celine who is still crazy about Celine.

"I wronged you and do apologize for that," I gulped. " But do you see me as just your night lady?" "You're just trying to come back," he hands pulled my waist closer. "Only fools can accept you back Emma." "Ry...an..." I pushed back the tears that hung at the corner of her eyes like pearls. My voice shook with pain as i turned back, walking away with tears falling like tsunamis down my face. Suddenly his hands wrapped around my wrist. "I'm one of those fools'' he said. Thud! Thud! In the split of a second heartbeat sounded twice. Blood rushed down to the point our hands made contact. The Alpha was the beginning of my woes and now I belong to him. But she decided to transfer the hate and resent to his offspring who happens to be her mate. why did she treat him with resentment? what did she really do? why did he reject her? Did she find the peace she had always hoped for?

After Uncle Frank and Aunt Gina died, my older cousin, Izzy Kramer, moved in with my family. To make up for the fact that she has lost her parents, everything she has is hers and hers alone. I'm not allowed to even think about touching them. Summer comes along, and my parents get Izzy a brand new bathtub. I happen to glance at it for just a second longer, and Izzy immediately breaks into tears. "If you want all of these things, Melanie, go ahead and take them! I just want my parents back!" Mom and Dad are furious, and Mom storms over to slap me. "Why are you acting like such a spoiled child? What, have you never seen a bathtub before? Why do you keep staring at Izzy's bathtub, huh?" My cheek stings. Ever since then, I've grown too scared to even look at any of Izzy's things. One day, Izzy invites me to have a soak in her bathtub. Thrilled, I carefully step into the water, but it's not as warm as I expected. In fact, the icy water instinctively gives me the urge to draw backward, but Izzy gives me a hard shove from behind. She swiftly locks the bathroom door shut after. "Since you like eyeing other people's things so much, you jealous brat, I'll make sure you have a nice long soak in the tub this time!" Having lost my footing when she shoved me, I bash my head against the side of the bathtub. I feel something warm trickling down my forehead, but that sensation is quickly replaced by the icy water that surrounds me. I don't know how much time passed, but eventually, I find myself hovering in the air. I hear Izzy's voice coming from the other side of the door. She complains to my parents, "Uncle James! Aunt Louise! Melanie snuck into the bathroom to use my bathtub!"