Introduction
Mary acaba de tomar una decisión que cambiará su vida para siempre. No es propio de Mary tomar decisiones que cambien su vida. De hecho, Mary no suele tomar ninguna decisión.
Después de años de sentir que está sola, que no vale nada y que las personas en su vida solo la utilizan como apoyo en sus propias vidas, Mary está lista para algo nuevo.
Vendrá con la Dama y Kopa a su tierra natal. Probará algo nuevo y esperará que lo que busca sea mejor que aquello de lo que huye. Y si puede reparar su corazón roto, eso es una ventaja adicional.
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Dripping Creativity
Chapter 1
Mary se sentó en el carruaje, sintiéndose algo deprimida después de dejar atrás todo y a todos los que conocía.
Eso no era del todo cierto, pensó, de hecho, estaba rodeada de personas que conocía, y estaba con la Dama y Kopa. Eso ayudaba un poco, solo necesitaba ver esto como una aventura. Como cuando Erik y ella exploraban la ciudad cuando eran niños.
Después de un rato, el carruaje se detuvo, y Mary miró a la Dama con curiosidad.
—Tenemos que esperar los carros con nuestro equipaje —explicó la Dama sin que Mary tuviera que preguntar.
Mary asintió y se dio cuenta de que no podían viajar sin los carros de almacenamiento. La procesión con los jinetes grises y el solitario carruaje blanco, era solo para crear una impresión, para mantener la visión de la Dama y su compañía.
Mary pensó que debería haberlo comprendido antes, ella más que nadie debería saber cuánta comida se necesitaba para alimentar a todas estas personas. Mientras esperaban a que los carros los alcanzaran, Mary pensó en el viaje que tenía por delante y en toda una serie de otras cosas.
Descubrió que tenía una serie de preguntas, pero no sabía si se atrevería a hacerlas. Se volvió hacia Mildy, que estaba sentada frente a ella.
—¿Cuánto durará el viaje? —preguntó Mary.
—Aproximadamente una semana, dependiendo del clima y otras cosas —respondió el aari, y las otras dos mujeres asintieron. Mary se quedó en silencio por un momento antes de hacer la siguiente pregunta.
—¿Qué idioma se habla en Salmisara?
—El salamis es el más común, pero en Salmis hay tantos comerciantes y diferentes nacionalidades que el común se habla bastante a menudo. Luego hay varios idiomas locales en las diferentes regiones, pero la mayoría pueden considerarse dialectos del salamis —respondió Mildy.
Mary se sorprendió. En Dermes, solo se hablaba el idioma común.
—Entonces tengo que aprender salamis —dijo Mary.
—Estarás bien con el común, al menos durante los primeros meses —la Dama la aseguró. Pero Mary negó con la cabeza.
—No puedo vivir en un lugar y no hablar su idioma. Eso sería una falta de respeto de mi parte —dijo. La declaración hizo sonreír a las otras tres mujeres.
—Eres sabia para tu edad —dijo Leana.
—Gracias —respondió Mary.
—No estaría mal si te damos algunas lecciones en el camino —dijo la Dama—. Nos daría algo que hacer.
Mary se sintió un poco mejor, le parecía importante convertirse en parte de la ciudad que se convertiría en su nuevo hogar.
Kopa abrió la puerta para anunciar que los jinetes ahora se estaban reorganizando con los carros y que podrían continuar el viaje en diez minutos.
El día consistió en que una de las mujeres en el carruaje le daba a Mary una nueva palabra en salamis, Mary la repetía en voz alta un par de veces y luego se concentraba en tratar de recordarla. Después de un rato, le preguntaban si recordaba las diferentes palabras.
Mary descubrió que era sorprendentemente fácil recordar las diferentes palabras. Lo que le causaba mayor problema era la pronunciación. El salamis era más melódico y tenía más matices dentro de la melodía que el común.
Su pequeño juego significaba que no tenía tiempo ni energía para pensar en su decisión o en su futuro. Algo por lo que estaba agradecida y que la ayudaba a centrarse en el presente.
El día se convirtió en crepúsculo y durante la última hora habían viajado a través de un paisaje boscoso que casi no mostraba signos de presencia humana. Mary comenzó a pensar que continuarían viajando durante la noche cuando vislumbró una colina un poco más adelante donde parecía haber un pueblo en la cima.
Fuegos entre los pequeños edificios iluminaban la oscuridad que se acercaba. A medida que se acercaban, Mary se dio cuenta de que los edificios eran en realidad tiendas de campaña que estaban dispuestas en un denso grupo.
Las tiendas estaban custodiadas por personas vestidas de gris y Mary se dio cuenta de que la Dama tenía una compañía más grande de la que había llevado a la ciudad. El resto del grupo había estado esperando aquí en el campamento.
Mary pudo ver más carros de almacenamiento entre las tiendas. Realmente era una gran empresa mover a todas estas personas, pensó Mary. Luego el carruaje se detuvo y Kopa abrió la puerta para ayudar a las mujeres a bajar. Un grupo de personas vestidas de gris se levantó para saludar a la Dama.
—Todo está listo para la partida de mañana —dijo uno de los hombres. Era de pequeña estatura, apenas más alto que Mary, pero la expresión en sus ojos daba la impresión de que era un hombre acostumbrado a ser obedecido.
—Gracias, Nihal —dijo la Dama con una pequeña sonrisa. Indicó a Mary que se acercara, y Mary se apresuró a obedecer—. Nihal, esta es Mary, ella nos acompañará en nuestro viaje. Mary, este es Nihal, él supervisa a los jinetes grises —dijo la Dama.
Nihal inclinó la cabeza hacia Mary en señal de reconocimiento, y Mary respondió con una pequeña reverencia y miró hacia abajo. Mary pensó que vio una mirada de desaprobación en el rostro de la Dama y temió haber hecho algo mal, ¿debería haber mostrado más respeto y, de ser así, cómo?
Pero la expresión desapareció tan rápido que Mary no estaba segura de si la había visto o si la había imaginado. La Dama continuó hablando con el pequeño grupo de personas vestidas de gris. Mary se quedó pensando en a quién podría preguntar cómo debía comportarse y miró a su alrededor.
Vio a Kopa ayudando a descargar un par de baúles y cofres de uno de los carros de almacenamiento. Se acercó a él, quedándose un poco al lado, esperando a que terminara. Como de costumbre, parecía saber que ella estaba allí y giró la cabeza hacia ella y sonrió un poco antes de continuar trabajando.
Había actividad por todas partes y Mary se sentía inquieta e innecesaria donde estaba sin ayudar. Cuando Kopa se acercó a ella, le preguntó.
—¿En qué puedo ayudar?
Kopa le sonrió.
—Puedes acompañarme mientras hago mi ronda —dijo. Mary no estaba del todo satisfecha con la respuesta, pero asintió y lo siguió mientras él comenzaba a caminar.
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#98 Salto de fe
Last Updated: 04/17/2025 17:01#97 La limpieza
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Last Updated: 04/17/2025 17:01#91 El destierro
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Falling for my boyfriend's Navy brother
"What is wrong with me?
Why does being near him make my skin feel too tight, like I’m wearing a sweater two sizes too small?
It’s just newness, I tell myself firmly.
He’s my boyfirend’s brother.
This is Tyler’s family.
I’m not going to let one cold stare undo that.
**
As a ballet dancer, My life looks perfect—scholarship, starring role, sweet boyfriend Tyler. Until Tyler shows his true colors and his older brother, Asher, comes home.
Asher is a Navy veteran with battle scars and zero patience. He calls me "princess" like it's an insult. I can't stand him.
When My ankle injury forces her to recover at the family lake house, I‘m stuck with both brothers. What starts as mutual hatred slowly turns into something forbidden.
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**
I hate girls like her.
Entitled.
Delicate.
And still—
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The image of her standing in the doorway, clutching her cardigan tighter around her narrow shoulders, trying to smile through the awkwardness, won’t leave me.
Neither does the memory of Tyler. Leaving her here without a second thought.
I shouldn’t care.
I don’t care.
It’s not my problem if Tyler’s an idiot.
It’s not my business if some spoiled little princess has to walk home in the dark.
I’m not here to rescue anyone.
Especially not her.
Especially not someone like her.
She’s not my problem.
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Danielle Harris is the daughter of an overprotective police chief and has led a sheltered life. As a kindergarten teacher, she's as far removed from the world of Harleys and bikers as you could get, but when she's rescued by the sexy and dangerous Austin Carver, her life is changed forever.
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After One Night with the Alpha
I thought I was waiting for love. Instead, I got fucked by a beast.
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Brad’s cold gaze pins me: “You carry my blood. You’re mine.”
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WARNING: Mature Readers Only
Invisible To Her Bully
Goddess Of The Underworld.
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Crossing Lines
Noah
I was here to prove myself—
One last shot at football, at freedom, at a future no one ever thought I’d deserve.
And then I met him.
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Cold. Demanding. Built like a legend and twice as ruthless.
From the first command, I wanted to fight him.
From the first Sir, I wanted to kneel.
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And spoke to me in a voice I knew far too well.
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Breaking him down until he begged for what he swore he didn’t need.
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Heartbroken, Sable discovered Darrell having sex with his ex in their bed, while secretly transferring hundreds of thousands to support that woman.
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The Lycan Prince’s Puppy
“Soon enough, you’ll be begging for me. And when you do—I’ll use you as I see fit, and then I’ll reject you.”
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The Delta's Daughter
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What happens when a wolf from the Kings past has his eye on Lamia?
Follow this epic tale of Love, tragedy and betrayal as Lamia starts to discover her family heritage. Will her family’s forgotten heritage and secrets become more than she can handle?
Will her Prince become her mate or will she be fated to another?
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For a mature audience
Crowned by Fate
“She’d just be a Breeder, you would be the Luna. Once she’s pregnant, I wouldn’t touch her again.” my mate Leon’s jaw tightened.
I laughed, a bitter, broken sound.
“You’re unbelievable. I’d rather accept your rejection than live like that.”
As a girl without a wolf, I left my mate and my pack behind.
Among humans, I survived by becoming a master of the temporary: drifting job to job… until I became the best bartender in a dusty Texas town.
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The werewolf world was on the verge of a revolution. That’s when I saw Leon again...
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Author Note:New book out now! The River Knows Her Name
Mystery, secrets, suspense—your next page-turner is here.
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Dripping Creativity
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