Résultats de "Alina Das" dans Toutes les catégories

Nashquitten, MA, is a decaying coastal enclave that not even tourist season can revive, full of locals who have run the town’s industries for generations. When a young woman dies at a house party, the circumstances around her death suspiciously unclear, the tight-knit community is shaken. As a mother grieves her daughter, a teacher her student, a best friend her confidante, the events around the tragedy become a lightning rod: blame is cast, secrets are buried deeper.

My new billionaire boss looks like he needs something sweet in his life. I graciously offered to let him stick his hand in my candy jar. It has salt water taffy and gummy worms! I can't believe he thought it was inappropriate! In an effort to redeem myself, I set out to show Mace that I wasn't a clumsy, car-destroying, electronic-killing, accident-prone, walking disaster. That lasted all of five minutes before I set his seaweed and quinoa lunch on fire. Yeah, I didn't know that was a thing either.

¡Volverás a sentir las mariposas con Alina Not! Más de 150.000 lectoras. ¿El amor está escrito en nuestro destino? ¿Crees que bastan treinta segundos para proyectar lo vivido y desvelar lo que está por venir? Beth vio algo cuando se debatía entre la vida y la muerte y ahora está segura de que logrará su sueño, de que llegará a ser una anciana feliz y satisfecha, y de que hay alguien con un aspecto muy concreto con quien compartirá el resto de sus días.

A new virus descended on the human species in 2019 wreaking unprecedented havoc. Nearly two years into the pandemic, the crucial mystery of the origin of SARS-CoV-2 is not only unresolved but has deepened. In this uniquely insightful book, a scientist and a writer join forces to try to get to the bottom of how a virus whose closest relations live in bats in subtropical southern China somehow managed to begin spreading among people more than 1,500 kilometers away in the city of Wuhan.

Five years ago, I royally screwed up, lied, and broke the heart of the woman I love. A sane man would buy her a nice present and grovel. Guess I must be crazy. I love Meg more than anything. So why am I running against her for mayor of Harrogate?

A bride-to-be convinced she’s cursed in romance finds her luck changing—at exactly the wrong time. Maya Mirza is so convinced she’s unlucky in love that she’s come up with a list of laws to explain it. Most importantly…

Dans "Le boucher", la chair parle, ses mots s'engouffrent par l'oreille, la font fondre. La chair s'ouvre à tous les sens, antre béant, où la langue fouine. Le sens glisse d'une chair à l'autre, en suivant la lame qui ouvre, découpe, tranche les surfaces et les interdits. Une fois que l'interdit est tombé, toutes les associations, les métonymies, les copulations fantasmatiques et réelles deviennent possibles.

Christmas is bad enough without all the music, frantic shopping sprees, and holiday parties. So many parties… with people you couldn’t stand in high school and definitely can’t stand now. Top of the list? Patty Harrison. She made my teen years miserable and, now that we’re adults, she’s trying to get me banned from the Christmas market. Even so, I’m not going to commit literal murder.

Growing up in a polygamist cult, crazy defined my life. Everyone was crazy - my father, his wives, my older brothers who abandoned me. Though I can’t escape the crazy brothers, I think I’ve finally managed to find balance.... Until some crazy, curvy girl storms into the restaurant, interrupts my date, and dumps an entire table's worth of food on me.

Inside this book, you will find common triggers and symptoms of irritable bowel syndrome (also known as IBS), what medications are commonly used by doctors to deal with those symptoms, and other natural ways to help take control of your gut back and heal the real reason you probably have IBS anyway. 

When the townspeople of Harrogate almost riot over the Christmas décor thievery committed by the chair of the Elf on the Shelf Committee, I know I’m not going to survive the holiday season unless drastic action is taken. Biddy Jefferson turning up dead in my Christmas market stall is not exactly the type of drastic measure I had in mind. With no alibi and a town obsessed with pinning the murder on me, I have to clear my name. This is on top of planning the upcoming holiday ball, dealing with quirky stall owners in the Christmas market, and corralling confused tourists.

I admit it was me who shouted, “Looking good, hot stuff!” at Mr. Richmond this morning, but I didn’t mean it like that. Yes, Mrs. HR Lady, I know how it looks. Believe me, I am totally anti-catcalling, but that’s not what that was. Honest. I was paying him a compliment! That’s kind of what I do: I’m a proud, small-town Floridian, and Manhattan is craving some Florida sunshine—nothing like a sincere compliment to turn those New York frowns upside down!

Rules are meant to be broken. Except for one: Women can't get enough peonies. Even the girl in front of me in line is admiring the peonies in my hand. While I need these particular flowers for my latest plot, I'll still give Meghan the biggest, thickest bouquet I can find. It's flattering how much she wants my peonies. And I don't mind personally delivering.

Spanning nearly a century, from 1930s Siberia to contemporary Brighton Beach, a pause resisting, epic family saga centering on three generations of women in one Russian Jewish family - each striving to break free of fate and history, each yearning for love and personal fulfillment - and how the consequences of their choices ripple through time.

He runs his own business and coaches Little League. She drives a minivan, and she'd be lost without her trusty BlackBerry. They go on date nights. Their kids attend public schools, play sports, and take music lessons. They live in a roomy house in the 'burbs. They're about as mainstream as families come. They're also polygamists. The Dargers move the conversation away from child brides, Warren Jeffs, and the FLDS to more mainstream polygamists who willingly enter into plural relationships as adults.

Bullies never get what’s coming to them. No, I didn’t put poison in their food - I am a jam maker, and food is sacred. But I did plot the most epic plan of revenge. I needed to get one over on the biggest baddest high school bully and prove that I wasn’t the awkward pushover anymore, just like Weston wasn’t the obnoxious teenager anymore. Now, he was a powerful billionaire. Though he’s taller, sexier, bigger, I need to stay on my guard. I know men like Weston don’t really change. Or did he?

In my defense, I never claimed to be professional.... At least that’s my excuse for why I mistook a billionaire for a waiter, made off-color comments, and accidentally dumped a plate of food all over him. Embarrassing myself is a daily occurrence, just like my unpaid bill notices. But being in a wedding instead of planning one is not. I shall live vicariously through this high-end wedding and forget about the rent payments I’ve missed, the fact that my tiny apartment has no hot water, and that I’m about to be evicted anyway so it doesn’t even matter, anyway! Yay!

Fall. Autumn. It doesn't matter what you call it, I hate it. I despise pumpkins, Halloween, and the overwhelming sense of dread as the cold and damp move in. But when my new chauffeur drives up in a hearse, Halloween carols blaring, I realize there will be no escape from the holiday.

When your wedding-crazy, septuagenarian grandmother arranges a contest to see which of her granddaughters marries first, you have to bring out the big guns. And my billionaire boss Blade’s guns are banging! Billionaire, high-powered CEO, more money than personality, Blade Svensson is all business. He needs to win a contract, and I need a house. He and I both know that this is a logical, rational response to one of life’s many curveballs.

I turn weird and awkward around attractive men. I'm a nervous sweater, and when Archer walked into my art cafe that night, he was making me soaking wet. He was stupidly attractive - which caused me to go into excruciating detail about my sweating problem, insult what he had under his fig leaf, and imply I was running a brothel. My career as an artist was a joke. I was desperately trying to live the #bossbabe life after I couldn't hack it as an artist in New York City and moved back to my small hometown. Now my business is failing. But hey, suffering is inspirational, right?