HIS MAID TO HIS WIFE
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- Partes 11
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Echo of the Past
A few months ago, I bought a mug with gold gilt. On sale. Not a gift either nor because of an occasion to remember by it. Just plain, pretty mug for 15PLN. I drank my coffee from it since. I spat loose tea leaves into it. It never felt particularly significant. An ordinary object. Only when I lost it, I realised its true value. I sat comfortably at my desk one evening. Looking at my phone, I reached to take my song-text notebook. Trivial situation. My clumsy fingers were unable to avoid the mug. They allowed it to topple over, to slip from the desktop. Even though I did not see the split-second occurrence, I felt the pressure of unease. My head painted the trajectory of the fall on its own, the shattering, spillage. The loss. For a millisecond I still had hope, that I would be able to catch the mug, that I would be able to avoid what was about to happen. But I knew I was headed for failure. I don't have any superpowers. I only scalded my fingers. I looked at the mug's new shape for a long while, at the shattered pieces. At the spilling liquid. Our adventure came to an end. Irrevocably. I won't be drinking coffee from it anymore, nor spit tea leaves into it. Well. I shouldn't be sad, it was just a regular mug, just like thousands of others. I grew to like it, it kept me company throughout hundreds of warm drinks. I lost it. I hate this feeling the most. In the moment when I am losing something, I stop in my tracks, I hold my breath. It is always a very intense moment. A short one, but one that gives me the tight unpleasant feeling in my stomach. The feeling of loss is always accompanied by hope. Silly and naïve. Making me believe so strongly, that I can make it. That I will still be able to catch the mug mid-flight. When the feeling is entering the body, crawling into me I realise, how important it was to me. Whether it's Nivan or a stupid mug with gold gilt.Concluida
Scared to love
I kept on moving back and he kept walking closer till my back touched the lockers. He trapped me in between his huge hands and I closed my eyes facing away "Why are you so scared of me?" he said in his amazingly husky voice. "Well if you keep on hitting people and make them bleed all day you don't come out as the most friendly person on earth you know?" I said making eye contact. "Give me a chance. I won't disappoint" he said with utmost sincerity reflecting in his eyes. . . . . . . . . . . Check out the book for story description. P.S- I try to update everyday. But sometimes it just not possible. So with that cleared happy reading. Completed ✔️✔️✔️✔️Concluida
His Ruthless Revenge (A Dark Bully Romance)
I was terrified of Chase. He made my life a misery for years. I was bullied and tormented on a daily basis. He was the monster who made me suffer... Until everything changed. I don't know how it happened but somehow, my worst enemy became the one person I couldn't live without. But the past refuses to stay buried, and forgiveness is far harder than I ever imagined. Chase broke my heart once. This time... it's MY turn to destroy him. My revenge will be ruthless... just like him.Concluida
Someone Like Adam
"You know, it won't physically hurt you to be nice for once." I crossed my arms in front of my chest and groaned. "I don't want to take a chance." the corner of his lips lifted a little as he finished his sentence. "Well, you don't hear me complaining. The view of a someone so desperately working out is not a delight either." I retorted in a weary voice. "I bet it isn't." he narrowed his eyes at me and commented. Ugh.. Why is he so damn annoying? "You know what, just take your arrogant ass out of my room." I scowled at him, pointing towards the door. With small steps, he walked towards me. I took a step backwards when he neared me. He was invading my personal space, making me a bit flustered. The urge to push back his golden-brown hair covering his forehead was increasing with every passing second. "Gladly." he mumbled against my face and then walked past me out of my room. It took me a minute to calm down my racing heartbeat. ... He was a mystery, an enigma I wanted to solve. He was exhausting, he was infuriating, yet staying away from him was not an option. He was making me feel things I haven't felt before. Adam McArdle! Who are you and what are you doing to my poor little heart? ... #1 in GENERAL FICTION (23-05-2019) #1 in CHICKLIT (21-07-2019)Concluida
Holding Out
Sometimes the greatest risk is letting yourself be loved. ❤️ After heartbreak taught Jade that trust comes at a price, she swore off love for good. Then she met Isaac. Charming, persistent, and impossible to resist, Isaac slowly breaks down the walls Jade has spent years building around her heart. The more time she spends with him, the harder it becomes to ignore the feelings she's fought so hard to bury. But trusting him means risking everything. As their connection deepens, Jade must decide if she's willing to let go of the past-or keep holding out on the one man who might be worth the risk.Concluida
Killing Me To Love You | ✓
Just one slight mistake threw me into a world that knows nothing but crime, violence, betrayal, and death. Just one slight incident led me into the life of the most alluring man with nothing but the look of murder in his eyes. Just one slight incident was all that was needed to change the course of my entire life. My fragile heart isn't made for his tough world and his corrupt soul isn't made for my naive world. But he won't let me go. And suddenly, my life wasn't about living, it was about surviving. - Full Summary Inside -Concluida
A few months ago, I bought a mug with gold gilt. On sale. Not a gift either nor because of an occasion to remember by it. Just plain, pretty mug for 15PLN. I drank my coffee from it since. I spat loose tea leaves into it. It never felt particularly significant. An ordinary object. Only when I lost it, I realised its true value. I sat comfortably at my desk one evening. Looking at my phone, I reached to take my song-text notebook. Trivial situation. My clumsy fingers were unable to avoid the mug. They allowed it to topple over, to slip from the desktop. Even though I did not see the split-second occurrence, I felt the pressure of unease. My head painted the trajectory of the fall on its own, the shattering, spillage. The loss. For a millisecond I still had hope, that I would be able to catch the mug, that I would be able to avoid what was about to happen. But I knew I was headed for failure. I don't have any superpowers. I only scalded my fingers. I looked at the mug's new shape for a long while, at the shattered pieces. At the spilling liquid. Our adventure came to an end. Irrevocably. I won't be drinking coffee from it anymore, nor spit tea leaves into it. Well. I shouldn't be sad, it was just a regular mug, just like thousands of others. I grew to like it, it kept me company throughout hundreds of warm drinks. I lost it. I hate this feeling the most. In the moment when I am losing something, I stop in my tracks, I hold my breath. It is always a very intense moment. A short one, but one that gives me the tight unpleasant feeling in my stomach. The feeling of loss is always accompanied by hope. Silly and naïve. Making me believe so strongly, that I can make it. That I will still be able to catch the mug mid-flight. When the feeling is entering the body, crawling into me I realise, how important it was to me. Whether it's Nivan or a stupid mug with gold gilt.
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