Why Do They Call Michael Myers The Shape

For my birthday, my husband, Don Damien, gave me his dead wife’s pearls. I wore them to the dinner party. My enraged stepson, Leo, doused me in red wine. I became the laughingstock of the party. “You whore,” he hissed. “You think wearing my mother’s jewelry makes you her?” He stared at me, his eyes cold as ice. Then he screamed. "Get out of my house." But his mother died when he was a baby. I raised him. Someone had whispered poison in his ear. They told him I was the one who killed his mother. Now he thinks I'm a scheming bitch who tricked his father. And his father? My husband? He never saw me. He only saw Krista’s ghost. My heart didn't break. It shattered. They didn't love me. They didn't even care. So I walked. Then why, after I was finally gone, did they come crawling back, begging me to return?

The night before my wedding, my mom got into a car accident—she needed a blood transfusion, fast. Her blood type was rare. Mine matched. I was pregnant, but I didn't think twice. I donated. While I was bleeding out, losing my baby, my fiancé, Joffrey Habsburg, and his brother—my so-called childhood friend—Mateo, were busy holding Nancy's hand during her cosmetic surgery. I begged Joffrey to save my mom. Only then did he bother to pick up a scalpel. When it was over, he said, "Surgery failed. She's gone." Two days later, I overheard Nancy purring through the door, wrapped around the Habsburg brothers. "Mateo really is a racer—he hit that old hag dead on. And Joffrey? You were amazing too, making sure she didn't survive the surgery. Thanks to you both, I got Lori's blood for my operation."

Ten years ago, I lost my sight saving Ivan Hardman. Now, a decade later, Ivan lets his mistress live under the same roof as me. Every night, he coaxes me to sleep in the first half, only to spend the rest tangled up with her. Even my son secretly calls her "Mom." What they don't know is, I've regained my sight. And I'm planning my escape.

The kingdom teeters on the edge of chaos as turmoil grips its very core. Stricken by a fatal illness, the King knows his time to rule is slipping away, urging him to seek a worthy successor. Yet, his heart yearns for the one person he cannot have Michael, a trusted confidante and devoted shield, who shares a bond of love forbidden by the kingdom's laws. Discover a tale of forbidden love, untold secrets, and the relentless pursuit of a legacy.

— Abre um pouco mais, Eva, Eva... Isso... assim mesmo. Meu corpo inteiro parecia derreter sobre a maca de exames. Meus dedos agarravam os lençóis com uma força involuntária. A voz atrás de mim era grave e contida... Cada palavra dele fazia meu corpo vibrar e minhas orelhas arderem. A posição do exame era vergonhosa demais. Meus quadris eram obrigados a se erguerem, altos demais, numa postura que parecia pura rendição. — Doutor... eu... ah... não consigo abrir mais... — Murmurei, mordendo o lábio inferior, a voz tremendo de propósito. Através da barra metálica da maca, vi meu reflexo: cabelos bagunçados colados à face corada, os olhos úmidos, turvos, brilhando com um desejo confuso.

Rafe Serafin was once the Mafia’s most feared enforcer until a betrayal forced him into hiding behind the quiet life of a bartender. He plans to stay invisible. Until the night he saves billionaire CEO Derek Morgan from a hit and gets pulled back into the world he swore he’d never touch again. Derek is marked for death, hunted by enemies who won’t stop. And the only man capable of keeping him alive is the one who refuses to take the job. Rafe knows what happens to the people he protects; they die and he can’t survive losing someone again. But when multiple Mafia factions close in and the city becomes a hunting ground, Rafe does the one thing he promised himself he’d never do: He steps back into the darkness to save Derek. As bullets fly, feelings grow, and secrets unravel, Rafe learns the truth: Derek is being targeted because of a secret buried in his father’s past. And when Rafe is ordered to betray Derek, the same command that once destroyed his life, he makes his choice…

"St.gardens?!" "Yes, sir cho" "Come closer, let me see you properly!" "...umm...that should be enough, sir Cho! Auntie said that, it's just once a week!" Cho Ja Nathaniel"....." "Are you done, St.gardens?!!" "I...I am sorry, sir Cho. I am just st…" "Mnnn...mnn...stop it, sir Cho!! This is not right!! I signed a contract!" "What f**king contract is that?!! That is between you and my mother!! I'm signing another one! We need more to make a stamp!!" "...What?! No!!" "No?!! I see you are really fierce. Well, you should know that I like your kind!!" "F**k you!!" "Haha…! No, little girl! You don't stand the chance! But don't you worry, I'll help you! I'll f**k you instead and quite well too!!" St.gardens"....." ****** Haneul Ja St.gardens is a gentle, innocent and sweet girl but also covered with taekwondo skills. One thing that is constant in her life, is bad luck. She could not find a better job to make her life more stable. St.gardens is feeding from hand to mouth, until the day she meets a middle aged woman. She offers her a deal she can not refuse because the benefit is awesome. St.gardens is to become a surrogate mother for her son Cho Ja Nathaniel. Things might not go well the way St.gardens has planned and she asks herself several times, if she should really do it, or not? ****** A refreshing book, wrapped specially for you! Join them as they search for the right key to the invisible golden door! Happy Reading! Please, stay safe. #For me and for all! Love from Author Elaami.

When the SAT scores are out, I've scored 400 out of 1600. That's because I never wrote anything on my exam papers. My mom goes crazy, whereas my younger sister, Melinda Bolton, bursts into tears. But I just laugh at them instead. In my previous life, Melinda had formed a pact with the score-swapping system. That was how she swapped our SAT scores. She became the top scorer that all prestigious universities fought to recruit. I, the valedictorian of my year, not only got into a trade school, but I also got expelled from my previous high school. Melinda had the gall to comfort me. "Didn't you call yourself a genius, Melissa? Trade schools are very popular right now. In the future, you'll secure a job at a factory out there!" In this life, I spend my exam hours sleeping in my seat the whole time. Melinda wants to swap her scores, right? Then, let's do it properly!

After the SAT results came out, Ethan Blake—the poorest student in our class—had scored just over 660. And yet, he somehow managed to convince my two childhood friends to apply with him to the worst community college in the state. Under his influence, they both happily agreed to go to the same school as him. I tried to talk some sense into them over and over, but they accused me of having bad intentions—of just being jealous of Ethan. When that didn't work, I reached out to their parents. At the very last minute before the application deadline, I managed to get their choices changed, securing them spots at a good university. Ethan had no choice but to enroll in the community college alone. Less than six months later, news broke that he had jumped from a campus building. After Jessica Miller and Megan Flores went to the school to claim his body, they came back and dragged me up to the rooftop. "If you hadn't stopped us from applying to the same school as Ethan," they said, "he never would've been bullied into jumping to his death. Now you can die with him!" Without hesitating, they pushed me off the roof. I hit the ground and shattered into pieces. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the exact moment they decided to follow Ethan to that community college. This time, I'll just stand back and watch them throw their lives away.

After the plane crash, my body was never recovered. My soul drifted back to the home I hadn't stepped foot in for five years. They didn't know I was dead. They were still waiting for me to come home for Christmas. When my mom got the call from the airline, she froze for a long time, completely at a loss, before breaking down in tears. I followed them as they went to the memorial crash site. That was when I noticed something strange—I could see their levels of regret hovering above their heads. My brother's regret level read: 40%. My father's showed: 60%. Even my sister-in-law had 30% over her head. But my mother's regret level? It flashed a cold, unchanging 0%.