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What is Romance?


Reading books RomanceReading books romantic stories you will plunge into the world of feelings and love. Most of the time the story ends happily. Very interesting and informative to read books historical romance novels to feel the atmosphere of that time.
In this genre the characters can be both real historical figures and the author's imagination. Thanks to such historical romantic novels, you can see another era through the eyes of eyewitnesses.
Critics will say that romance is too predictable. That if you know how it ends, there’s no point in reading it. Sorry, but no. It’s okay to choose between genres to get what you need from your books. But in romance the happy ending is a feature.It’s so romantic to describe the scene when you have found your True Love like in “fairytale love story.”




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Read books online » Romance » Rebellion Is Good For the Soul by Amanda Castillo (top 5 ebook reader .txt) 📖

Book online «Rebellion Is Good For the Soul by Amanda Castillo (top 5 ebook reader .txt) 📖». Author Amanda Castillo



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Chapter 1


Love is one of those incomprehensible things that never really makes sense. I look foward and sigh as my
geography teacher blathers on about the major trade deficit of the United States. I sit back and close my eyes,
wishing that I could just run from the room and into the hallway. I really hate school, but with the high
expectations that my barely there parents place upon me I can't miss anything. And I mean absolutely
anything. I open my notebook in synch with everyone else in this cold classroom. I scrawl little drawings on
the margins, not really paying attention to what is being said. I can always just read this out of the book; it
certainly would be more interesting than listening to Mr.Foreman, who could probably put the dead to
sleep.

I turn to look out the window, searching for a better distraction than what I had. The sky is a dismal shade of
grey and the plastic green grass doesn't even sway in the wind that is making the leaves of the oak tree outside
rustle. I sigh; why did my parents move to such a dismal town? They didn't have to live here, because they
were always on the move. My mother, Desiree Fernandez is the trophy wife of my father Daniel Fernandez
and they both could care less about me and my brother. The only thing that is ever on their minds when they
see us is our GPA- after all daddy needs someone to take over his multi-million making company doesn't he?
Our conversations always go the same when my parents manage to find time in their busy schedules to
remember they have children. They call my twin brother, Darius, and me into the sitting room and ask to see
what they call our 'Quaterly Grade Report'.Usually they're satisified with my grades and I recieve the
'affectionate' hug that my mother has perfected and a praise from my father, usually a 'Good job April." Or
something along those lines. My brother is a different story. He usually makes it a point to flunk all his classes
and goes out of his way to make our parents mad. He parties constantly and is almost never home; though he
is my twin, I don't think that God could've made us more different.

I scowl as a droplet of water hits the clear window and runs down the smooth glass. Another droplet follows
and before I'm even aware of it, it's raining cats and dogs. I turn back to the front of the classroom and
fortunately Mr.Foreman has finished lecturing and is now writing our assignment on the board. Read chapters
eighteen through twenty one. Hmm.. He's probably is going to go hit on that cute blonde teacher aide
that was hired last week. He made it really obvious that he was interested in her and our easy assignment
proved what I already knew. Nothing got past me; that was how it was supposed to be. As soon as he was
done writing, he dropped the chalk onto his desk and stared at himself in his computer screen, preening.
Someone was hopeful. He exits the classroom and I turn back to stare out the window, scowling at the blurred
view that it afforded me; then I realized that I had left my umbrella in the car that drove me to school. The
irony behind that is that today is the one day I walk home- it's my chauffer's day off. I know by the time I get out, it will be pouring even harder.. I'm going to ruin the silk shirt that was part of my oh so
casual-yet-expensive ensemble. I smile at the thought; you know what they say,a little rebellion is good for
the soul.
--------------------------------------
My smile widens as the last bell of the day rings and I gather my things. Per my prediction it is raining harder
than I would've thought possible, and surprisingly I'm happy about it. Maybe I'll catch pneumonia and get a
few days off from school. I scoff at the very thought; in my household there is no off days- my brother being
the very obvious exception to that (and every other) rule. I close the clasp on my bag and sling it over my
chest, anticipating the feel of the cool rain on my pale skin; I really should get out more. A few people stare at
me oddly as I step out into the frigid rain without an umbrella but the knowledge that I'm going out of my
way to break a rule is making me giddy. I walk down the sidewalk, rain pouring down onto me. I'm three
blocks away from the school and into the warehouse district that surrounds it when I remember a crucial flaw
in my plan- my shirt is white. I look down and sure enough the silk shirt is plastered to my alabaster skin and
everyone can see my bra through it. I don't even have a sweater to cover it. I keep my eyes down and try not
to catch anyone's attention as I make my way through the maze that is the Warehouse District. I've always loved this neighborhood, mainly because there are not many people who travel through here and on my once a
week walk home the solitude is welcomed; now it's just putting me on edge.

Soon enough though the amount of people I am passing up dies down to the rare person and I feel my spirits
lift a bit. I pass my own marker- the pink warehouse that stands out among the black and grey metals. Good, I
only have about ten more blocks and I'm home. I pass it up, and notice an odd smell. I stop in my tracks and
identify it as cigarette smoke. I look around; there shouldn't be anyone in this area- all the warehouses close
down at one, two hours before school lets out. Then I spot him. He's tall and leans against a pillar supporting a
metal awning. He has dark chesnut hair and slightly tanned skin, clad completely in black. I've never seen him
before; then he looks up at me with piercing hazel eyes. I tear my gaze away from him and continue on
walking. He looked a little older than me, maybe sixteen. I shiver as the cold really begins to set in; I'll be lucky if I escape with pneumonia- at the rate I'm going I'll probably get hypothermia.

"Hey baby."

A man appears before me, pale as can be with a shock of red hair. His brown eyes leer down at me. I try to
ignore him and continue on walking but then a second one joins him. Then a third. I look around me and pale as I count the men; there are ten in all and I can tell from their gazes that they are not your every-day muggers.

"W-what do you want?"

I try to make my voice sound confident and self-assured but what comes out is nothing less than a whisper
filled with fear.The one standing closest to me moves foward and grabs me by my upper arm.

"We want whats underneath that charming shirt of yours hun."

He has a southern accent and his breath smells horribly of alchohol. I try to pull away but another one grabs
me and then I'm being surrounded. I try to scream but a meaty hand covers my mouth and I can feel hands
trying to rip off my shirt. I scream from underneath the hand and then bite it. The guy howls and someone
slaps me across the face with such a force that I'm sent sprawling to the cold asphalt.

"Little skank bit me!"

A guy with dirty blonde hair steps foward and pulls me up from the floor roughly by my hair and I stifle a
whimper. I refuse to give them the satisfaction of knowing that it hurts.

"Tough one huh?"

He punches me in the stomach, making my mouth open in a silent scream. It hurts when he drops me to the
asphalt again. I gasp for breath as my eyes water and stare up at him with the utmost contempt.

"Leave her alone!"

The guys turn to see who is trying to interrupt them and my eyes widen. It's cigarrette guy.The guy with the
southern accent steps foward and glares into cigarette guy's hazel eyes.

"What if we don't want to?"

The guy takes out a cigarette and lights it up, shrugging off his black parka in the process. Then he steps
foward so that he's right in front of me and drops the jacket into my hands. I put on the parka, grateful for it's
warmth.

"Then I'll just have to make you."

He steps foward and punches the guy hard in the stomach; the guy falls to the floor, gasping for breath. Then
the rest of them are running towards cigarette guy, who is smiling like this is the most fun he's had in a while.
He takes down the rest of them easily, throwing punches and using their attacks against them. I watch in awe
as the last guy goes down. I don't know who this guy is but he's amazing. He turns back to me, a smudge of
dirt on his cheek. He smiles then squats down so that he's eye level with me.

"You okay?"

I nod somewhat numbly and take his hand when he offers it. He lifts me up effortlessly and then takes my
hand in his warm one, the other one dropping the butt of his cigarette. He walks back toward the warehouse
that he was standing outside of earlier and it is only then that I see the small sign on the metal fence that says
'For Rent' that I understand why there was never anyone around here. The buildings I had passed weren't
warehouses, but those new apartment buildings that I had heard about. Apparently the fact that they were
cheap didn't make up for the fact that the metal walls didn't provide much insulation. He leads me to the door
he was standing outside of earlier and unlocks it. He holds out the door for me and I hesistate. Should I really
be going into this stranger's house? Especially after what had just happened?

"It's okay. I won't hurt you."

Something about the way he says those words convince me and I step inside the surprisingly warm room.
The floor is covered in baby blue wall to wall carpet so I take off my soaked through shoes and leave them on
the green mat at the entrance. The room is small but cozy, with a queen size bed in a corner, a beanbag thrown
in front of it. In the other corner is a medium sized television and then a partition cutting the room in half to
make way for a kitchen. A closet door stands open showing off a variety of black clothing. I look around

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