Winnie-the-pooh: Blood And Honey Plot 소설 & 이야기

Opening my eyes in an unfamiliar place with unknown faces surrounding me, everything started there. I have to start from the beginning again, because I am no longer Ayla Navarez and the world I am currently in, was completely different from the world of my past life. Rumi Penelope Lee. The cannon fodder of this world inside the novel I read as Ayla, in the past. The character who only have her beautiful face as the only ' plus ' point in the novel, and the one who died instead of the female lead of the said novel. She fell inlove with the male lead and created troubles on the way. Because she started loving the male lead, her pitiful life led to met her end. Death. Because she's stupid. Literally, stupid. A fool in everything. Love, studies, and all. The only thing she knew of, was to eat and sleep, then love the male lead while creating troubles the next day. Even if she's rich and beautiful, her halo as a cannon fodder won't be able to win against the halo of the heroine. That's why I've decided. Let's ruin the plot. Because who cares about following it, when I, Ayla Navarez, who became Rumi Penelope Lee overnight, would die in the end without even reaching the end of the story? Inside this cliché novel, let's continue living without falling inlove, shall we?

Diane Mercer has the perfect life, a loving husband, a brilliant four-year-old daughter, and a beautiful home by the lake. But perfection is a mask. Craving the passion her marriage lacks, Diane begins a dangerous affair fueled by lust and cocaine. When her two worlds violently collide one ordinary Thursday morning, the consequences are far worse than she ever imagined. What follows is a descent into psychological torment, betrayal, and supernatural horror that spans years. As guilt and paranoia consume her, Diane discovers the terrifying truth: some mistakes don’t end with death. They only begin there. Raw, relentless, and brutally intimate, Rest, Honey is a chilling exploration of desire, guilt, and the horrifying prisons we build with our own hands. A story that will haunt you long after the final page, because sometimes the worst thing you can see… is exactly who you’re becoming.

Sunday, the 10th of July 2030, will be the day everything, life as we know it, will change forever. For now, let's bring it back to the day it started heading in that direction. Jebidiah is just a guy, wanted by all the girls and resented by all the jealous guys, except, he is not your typical heartthrob. It may seem like Jebidiah is the epitome of perfection, but he would go through something not everyone would have to go through. Will he be able to come out of it alive, or would it have all been for nothing?

Eve ran away from her home after her father forced her to walk down the aisle for the benefit of his company. It was too late to turn back as she fell into the hands of a man who took advantage and tried to make money by holding her hostage, but she ran away from it and ended up in an isolated town where she met a quiet, reserved man. Hunter. She thought the people she met were just simple car repairmen. She was so wrong.

Back when I was young and dumb, I slapped some college guy working a side gig at a nightclub. My boyfriend had just ditched me for my best friend, Vanessa Shannon. Then, not even five minutes later, I caught her in the corner, sliding her hand under another guy's shirt. He bit his lip and just took it. Something in my brain short-circuited. I stood up and walked over. If Vanessa wanted him, why couldn't I? But the second I reached for him, he smacked my hand away. Vanessa cracked up. The whole private room turned to watch. Mortified, I slapped him. "You work at a place like this. Don't play innocent." Later, my family went broke, and I ended up working at a nightclub just to get by. The private room was loud as hell. I lost a game, and everyone at the table started chanting for me to take my bra off. My face went hot. I stood there, completely frozen. Then a low voice cut through the noise with a cold laugh. "You work at a place like this. Don't play innocent." I looked up. Our eyes locked. His stare was icy, full of pure mockery. It was the college guy I'd slapped years ago.

I'm reading a book about a boy who bullies a girl, but they end up in love? Screw that; if it were me, I'd ruin the plot.

My husband, Garrett Kachmar, vanished overseas with his ex, Linda Sharpe. They left me with one thing—an illegitimate, screaming baby. Twenty years later, I posted that my "son" had passed his exams. He was joining the police force. That's when Garrett came back. With Linda. And a lawsuit. At the plaintiff's table, Linda looked polished—soft makeup, perfect posture. Her voice? Pure control. "After Garrett divorced, we got married and had a big, healthy boy. Jemma couldn't stand seeing us happy, so she stole our son. We searched for twenty years. She refuses to give him back. We're his biological parents. We have the right to take him." Garrett shot me a glare. "Jemma, just because you can't have kids doesn't mean you get to steal mine." The trial was livestreamed. The comments exploded. [Can't have your own kid so you steal one?] [You destroyed a family. Sick.] [Give him back to his real parents!] Then my "son" was called into the courtroom. And the whole room went dead quiet.

YVES' fiancee lost all of her memories due to tragic history about her past. Even her, was having a hard time to accept her situation. She never expected that she would also forget the man she loves the most. For the past five years, Yves had been secretly looking at her from a far until he finally decided to meet her in person, with a desire to capture her heart all over again. A longing smile was plastered on his face as soon as he saw her. He unconsciously uttered those four words, with sixteen letters. “Honey, we meet again.”

After receiving devastating news Rachel has 200K and needs to decide how to move forward with her life. With the bit of money on her side at least she knew that her one option wouldn’t have to be marrying out of need, or so she thought. But will she marry her ex’s best friend?

I wondered if any of them would tell my daughter the truth one day, or if they'd build her a kinder lie the way they'd built one for me, the way this whole family seemed to specialize in kindness that was really just another shape of silence. I thought: *I hope she never has to know any of this. I hope she gets to be born into something kinder than what made her.* The room around me had gone soft and far away, voices folding into one long, indistinct hum. I couldn't tell anymore whose hands were on me, whose voice was counting, whose fear was filling the room like smoke. I only knew the sound beside me. The one keeping time with whatever was left of my heart. A single beep. Faint. Uncertain. I reached for the next one the way you reach for a stair in the dark, certain it has to be there, certain your foot will find solid ground if you just trust the rhythm enough to keep going. It didn't come. Then …. a long, final silence.