Youngest In Tagalog

Terrence loves to play games, he always win all the time, he's a top player in a game called 'In game' it's a virtual reality game. But what if you went inside the game you played? And what if you'll meet your ex there unexpectedly? Everyday someone must die, must fight to survive. Will Terrence survived in that game? Can he kill the girl that he loves before? Will other player survived too? Can it be death ending or it will be a happy ending?

TITLE: SYNOPSIS “What are you doing to me?” I asked as my voice dropped an octave lower. Jayden's palm slapped my clit and in the next moment I came, convulsing and jerking really hard. “Such a slut.” He whispered and shoved his wet palm in my mouth. “I'm sure you love what you taste.” He whispered and pinched my clit. “There'll be more.” He walked out and I had my mouth opened,spit drooling out with the jerking subsiding a little….. Jayden Newton held rage in his heart,rage large enough to erupt an earthquake and that's because he lost everything he had under his nose,lost both parents to the hands of serial killers,lost his sister to some gang of rapists and after much investigation,he finally found out the culprit had a daughter. He'd stop at nothing till he gets his hand on her and treat her like the animal he knows her father to be. But what happens when passion,hot like a molten magma ignites between him and Alexia,his enemies daughter? What happens when her body is all he needs to go insane and lose himself in the abyss of passion? Will he continue with his revenge or quench his insatiable taste for passion……

Constant head splitting headaches, random joint pains,. dizziness and lightheadedness. it was symptoms I know just too well. The blue rose illness. The vile disease that robbed me of my mother. And now I think it's coming for my life too. My name is Ivy and I have the blue rose illness. Funny right? I can't believe I have less than thirty days to live. ************ Prince Emiliano "You are sick? Since when?" "I am sorry." "Keep that for later—I will never give you the permission to leave me. You can never leave me. Do you understand Ivy? Don't you dare."

Eleanor always wanted a fresh start. She was raised in the mafia and was constantly exposed to guns, death, and blood. On the night she is kidnapped by an infamous Don, she manages to escape. But instead of going back to her old life, she decides to start a new one. She runs into the city of Rome and her true passion and love for food are sparked. When she meets Dante Santa Cruz, she no longer believes that anything can return her to the world she fled. But how could she forget that she was the daughter of the mad queen?

She is a to die for beauty, twenty-seven years without a husband or boyfriend, her first love who she never got to make hers is the only man she has ever learned to love and was it. People have been calling her a spinster unknowingly o her. And the first day someone calls it to her face, it was him, the most wanted bachelor in the country. But no one knows him, he is a mysterious man known worldwide but no one knows his real identity. Her rock-hard heart skips when she hears his voice for the first time, “You are mine for tonight, spinster Kira” “Then you will be my boyfriend, I am no spinster.”

As long as I can remember, I've been plagued by strange dreams. He comes to me when I sleep, calling out to me with such love. His face is so familiar yet strange to my eyes. Every dream was just that, a dream, until a family heirloom was handed down to me. With the book now open, the man I yearned to see in my sleep... is now real. Thrown back into the 1800's I find myself having to solve the mystery behind the screams that haunted me, and the loving touch from my dreams. How can I save the love that calls to me when my mind is torn between right and wrong? Or will the past make its way to my present world before I can stop it?

I am not a mermaid but with only a simple touch, I can make someone forget about me. I am not a time traveler, but I am very prone to waking up to other people's bodies, a different scenario, and a different timeline. If someone will ask me who I am, my only answer will be... I am someone lost in time.

What would you do if you stumbled upon a bride crying her eyes out minutes before the wedding, begging you to help her escape? You help her, of course. What would you do if you stumbled upon a drunken guy being mugged in the dark alley later that night? You help him too, of course. What would you do when you discover he was the same guy left hanging at the altar earlier that day? You regret everything, of course. What would you do when you start seeing that same guy everywhere you go? You fall in love, of course.

I die in the basement after being burned by acid. My family doesn't recognize me, and they don't call the cops. My mother picks up the scalpel that hasn't been used in years and debones me. My father excitedly mixes my skeleton with concrete and turns me into an exquisite statue. My sister uses the sculpture she's made out of my flesh and portrays herself as a genius sculptor whom everyone admires. Later, the sculpture is shattered, revealing half a broken finger inside. That's when everyone panics.

My twin sister, wanting to be with her thug boyfriend, secretly planned to apply for a junior college. When I could not talk her out of it, I told our parents and managed to stop her. However, just a month into the new semester, her thug boyfriend cheated on her. She left a suicide note, blaming it all on the long distance between them. She wrote that if she had gone to that junior college, her boyfriend would never have cheated. Grief‑stricken, my parents turned all their rage on me. "You wretched girl, this is all your fault for meddling! What business was it of yours which school your sister went to? Even if she didn't go to college, we could still support her. We didn't need your big mouth!" "If it weren't for your spiteful tongue, your sister wouldn't be dead!" "We were cursed to have a vicious, unfilial daughter like you!" They locked me in her room, ordering me to repent. Then they took her ashes on a trip, saying they wanted her to see the beautiful mountains and rivers she never got to visit in life. A month later, they returned from their travels to find me long dead, starved to a withered husk in front of my sister's photo. Their eyes held no grief, no guilt, only a faint, scornful curl of the lips. In their eyes, my death was nothing more than justice served. My broken soul saw their icy expressions, and despairing tears burned my eyes. Then my sister's familiar voice rang out again: "What business is it of yours which school I go to? You're just jealous that I have a boyfriend, aren't you?"