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O Lado Bom Da Vida

O Lado Bom Da Vida

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Mar 16, 2017
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Non-Fiction
Pat Peoples,um ex professor na casa dos 30 anos, acaba de sair de uma instituição psiquiátrica. Convencido de que passou apenas alguns meses naquele "lugar ruim " ,Pat não se lembra do que o fez ir para lá. O que sabe é que Nikki ,sua esposa, quis que ficassem um "tempo separados ". Tentando recompor o quebra cabeça de sua memória, agora repleta de lapsos, ele ainda precisa enfrentar uma realidade que não parece muito promissora. Com o pai se recusando a falar com ele ,a esposa negando - se a aceitar revê - lo e os amigos evitando comentar o que aconteceu antes de sua internação,Pat, agora viciado em exercícios físicos, esta determinado a reorganizar as coisas e reconquistar sua mulher, porque acredita no final feliz e no lado bom da vida .
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Short Story of A Duke and His new Husband. The air was thick with the scent of wine, candle wax, and the perfume of the aristocracy, but all I could smell was him. Sebastian's hand was around my wrist before I could take another step, his grip firm-unyielding. My breath hitched as he pulled me away from the grand ballroom, away from the swirling dancers and idle gossip, into the shadows of a secluded alcove. The wall was cold against my back, but his body was burning as he caged me in, his hands braced on either side of me. His eyes-dark, hungry-devoured me as though he were a beast barely holding himself back. "Do you have any idea what you've done to me tonight?" he murmured, voice low and edged with something dangerous. His fingers trailed along my jaw, tilting my chin up until there was no escaping the intensity of his gaze. "Parading around that ballroom, smiling so sweetly, looking so untouchable, when I am the only man who should be allowed to look at you that way?" My breath came shallow, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Sebastian-" "I want to ruin you," he growled, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear, his voice sinking deeper into something dark and possessive. "Right here, against this wall. I want to mark you, claim you, so that no man would ever dare look at you again without knowing who you belong to." A shiver ran through me. My knees felt weak, and he must have sensed it because his hands were on my waist in an instant, gripping me tightly, as if daring me to run. As if he knew I wouldn't. "You are mine, Felix," he whispered against my throat, the promise threading through my skin like fire. "And I will remind you of it before this night is over."

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