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Tarot For Self Care By Minerva Siegel Hardcover

Bound By Fate, Freed By Love

Bound by Fate, Freed by Love Aurora’s world shatters when her fated mate discovers she’s pregnant with another’s child—and casts her aside without hesitation. Heartbroken and exiled from her pack, she leaves behind everything she’s ever known. But the truth is far more extraordinary than anyone could imagine. The child within her wasn’t born of betrayal—it was placed there by the Moon Goddess herself, a sacred vessel destined to fulfill an ancient prophecy. And Aurora, with her pure and unyielding soul, was the only one worthy of carrying it. Determined to protect the life growing inside her, Aurora seeks refuge in the shadows—until fate entwines her path with an enigmatic Alpha. Powerful, dangerous, and burdened by his own scars, he offers her the one thing she thought she’d lost forever—safety. Where her first mate abandoned her, he stands firm. And against the impossible pull of her broken bond, a new connection begins to stir—one built on comfort, trust, and a passion neither can deny. But her past refuses to stay buried. When her first mate discovers the truth about the prophecy child, he hunts her down—no longer filled with rejection, but with a dangerous obsession. Torn between the primal bond she never chose and the one who chose her, Aurora faces an impossible question: Can she defy the Moon Goddess herself and sever the bond that still tethers her heart to a mate who never wanted her? Or will she risk everything for the Alpha who has become her strength, even if it means defying fate itself? With the forces of darkness closing in and both mates refusing to let her go, Aurora must uncover the true meaning of the prophecy—before destiny chooses for her. Bound by fate but yearning for freedom, she must decide: will she remain a prisoner of a bond forged by destiny, or will love give her the power to break free?
Ahmed_Deborah · 417 Views

Bound By Vengeance, Claimed By Love

She was kneeling in front of the one man she never thought she would need. He wasn’t evil, nor had she ever heard of him indulging in any bad habits, but he was known for one thing—he was not a helper. Mercy was not in his nature, yet at that moment, she clung to the desperate hope that, just this once, he might make an exception and save her life. Lifting her head with effort, she winced under the heavy rain, dragging her broken legs in a feeble attempt to reach him. He stood tall before her, an umbrella shielding him from the downpour. Though she couldn’t make out his face clearly, his cold, piercing gaze burned straight through her soul. A pained grunt left her lips as she stretched a trembling hand toward him, barely able to function as her body weakened by the second. Her vision blurred, the darkness creeping in. The fire’s devastation had left her face unrecognizable, her skin raw with pain, her blood flowing freely. She knew she looked monstrous—exactly what they had intended to turn her into. And now, she could hardly see at all. “Please… help me,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the storm. He crouched down to her level, his umbrella now shielding her from the rain. With a slow, deliberate motion, he placed a hand under her chin, tilting her face upward to meet his gaze. His voice was as indifferent as ever when he finally spoke. “I thought you knew… helping is not my thing.” Of course, she had known. But somehow, she had still hoped. Hoped that maybe—just maybe—he would make an exception. He wouldn't be that wicked to neglect her in this position. But it seemed she was doomed already. . . . She used to believe in love. She used to believe in family. She used to believe in trust. But trust had nearly cost Isabelle her life. Once, she was just an ordinary girl, hoping for a better future. A future that was promised to her—a life she thought would finally bring her happiness. But in one horrifying night, it was all ripped away. Betrayed, burned, and left to die, she learned the hardest truth: no one was coming to save her. Now, Isabelle is back—but she’s not the girl they left behind in the fire. With a new face and a new name, she has returned for one thing: revenge. But when the man who once refused to help her becomes the only one she can turn to, lines begin to blur. He is ruthless, powerful, and utterly unreadable. She should hate him because he is just one of them—she should fear him—but in his touch, she finds a dangerous kind of solace instead. And in his arms, she just might lose herself all over again. She knows she is playing with fire but maybe this fire won't hurt her.
IJE_5 · 1.2K Views

Too Cozy to Care

Alex isn’t your average high school student. While most kids his age are focused on grades, sports, or fitting in, Alex has a singular obsession: sleep. Not just any sleep—perfect, blissful, uninterrupted sleep in the most serene and quirky places he can find. Whether it’s under the bleachers, on a park bench, or in an abandoned bus, Alex transforms napping into an art form. But what starts as a simple quest for the ultimate nap spot soon takes an unexpected turn. When Alex accidentally creates a pillow—the Dozer V1 by SnoozeCloud—that delivers dream-like sleep to anyone who uses it, his life begins to change. Teachers, students, and neighbors who once chuckled at his sleepy demeanor now find themselves clamoring for his product. His bizarre napping habits transform into a full-blown business venture, where sleep becomes not just his passion but his path to success. Guided by nothing but his need for sleep and his uncanny knack for finding the perfect sleep ambiance, Alex’s journey unfolds with humor and innocence. His interactions, whether with his eccentric family, bewildered teachers, or the strict yet secretly impressed school principal, add layers of charm and laughter. As word of his magical pillows spreads, Alex stumbles into entrepreneurship, making deals with his school, creating nap zones, and even entering the business world—all without losing sight of his number one priority: nap time. His business empire, SnoozeCloud, grows not from ambition but from a simple, genuine desire to share his love of sleep with the world. "Can't Sleep. Why?" is a delightful blend of humor, innocence, and inspiration. It’s a story about staying true to oneself, proving that success doesn’t always come from chasing big dreams—sometimes, it finds you when you’re dreaming
TheCozyPenn · 5.9K Views

For Me, For Us, For Everyone

Cigarette smoke curls in the stagnant air, the dim glow of a dying bulb casting twisted shadows against the walls littered with half-torn articles and red-thread connections. Somewhere between the ink-stained papers and the scattered pills, a man sits—silent, unmoving, staring blankly at a stuffed monkey in a clown suit. A detective, they call him. A man of justice, a solver of mysteries. But behind the applause and empty praises, behind the sharp smiles and hollow congratulations, he is nothing but a walking contradiction—one hand holding a case file, the other exchanging cash for little plastic sachets. His mind is a labyrinth of voices, whispers that coil around his thoughts like suffocating vines. His brother grins at him from the corners of his vision, eyes glinting with the truth he refuses to face. His father’s voice is gentle, forgiving—too forgiving. Too much for a man who doesn’t deserve it. Each pill swallowed is another step into the illusion, another moment of stolen happiness before the weight of reality drags him under. He walks the city streets, drowning in faces that admire him, loathe him, see him as something he is not. He is both a hero and a villain, a detective and a criminal, a man trying to outrun the past while shackled to its corpse. And at the end of the night, when the echoes of the world fall away, all that remains is the darkness, the whispers, and the suffocating truth—he can never escape them.
Zeisn · 0 Views

self-references engine

PROLOGUE: WRITING A SET OF all possible character strings. All possible books would be contained in that. Most unfortunately though, there is no guarantee whatsoever you would be able to find within it the book you were hoping for. It could be you might find a string of characters saying, “This is the book you were hoping for.” Like right here, now. But of course, that is not the book you were hoping for. I haven’t seen her since then. I think she’s most likely dead. After all, it has been hundreds of years. But then again, I also think this. Noticing her as she gazes intently into the mirror, the room in disarray; it is clear that centuries have flowed by, or some such. And she, perhaps, has finished applying her makeup, and she is getting up and is going out to look for me. Her eyes show no sign of taking in the fact that the house has been completely changed, destroyed around her. The change was gradual, continuing, and even long ago she was not very good at things like that. As far as she is concerned, that is not the sort of thing one has to pay attention to. Not that she is aware, but it seems so obvious, she doesn’t need to care about it. Have we drowned, are we about to drown, are we already finished drowning, are we not yet drowning? We are in one of those situations. Ofcourse, it could be that we will never drown. But think about it. I mean, even fish can drown. I remember her saying meanly, “If that’s the case, you must be the one from the past.” It is true of course. Everybody comes out of the past; it’s not that I’m some guy who comes from some particular past. Even when that is pointed out, though, she shows no sign of backing down. “It’s not as if I came out of some bizarro past,” she said. That’s how she and I met. Writing it down this way, it doesn’t seem like anything at all is about to happen, right? Between her and me, I mean. As if something could ever really happen. As if something continues to happen that might ever make something else happen. I am repeating myself, but I haven’t seen her since then. She promised me, with a sweet smile, that I would never see her again. For the short time we were together, we tried to talk about things that really meant something to us. Around that time there were a lot of things that were all mixed up, and it was not easy to sort out what was really real. There might be a pebble over there, and when you took your eyes off it it turned into a frog, and when you took your eyes off it again it turned into a horsefly. The horsefly that used to be a frog remembered it used to be a frog and stuck out its tongue to try to eat a fly, and then remembered it used to be a pebble and stopped and crashed to the ground. With all this going on, it’s really important to know what’s really real and what’s not. “Once upon a time, somewhere, there lived a boy and a girl.” “Once upon a time, somewhere, there lived boys and girls.” “Once upon a time, somewhere, there lived no boy and no girl.” “Once upon a time…lived.” “Lived.” “Once upon a time.” From beginning to end, we carried on this back-and-forth process. For example, in this dialogue, we were somehow finally mutually able to comeup with this kind of compromise statement: “Once upon a time, somewhere, there lived a boy and a girl. There may have been lots of boys, and there may have been lots of girls. There may have been no boys at all, and there may have been no girls at all. There may even have been no one at all. At any rate there is little chance there were equal numbers of each. That is unless there had never been anybody at all anyway.” That was our first meeting, she and I, and of course it meant we would never see each other again. I was making my way in the direction she had come from, and she was headed in the direction I had come from, and this is a somewhat important point; you must realize this walking had to be,
author_3 · 3.1K Views
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