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A big variety of genres offers in worldlibraryebook.com. Today we will discuss romance as one of the types books, which are very popular and interesting first of all for girls. They like to dream about their romantic future rendezvous, about kisses under the stars and many flowers. Girls are gentle, soft and sweet. In their minds everything is perfect. The ocean, white sand, burning sun….He and she are enjoying each other.
Nowadays we are so lacking in love and romantic deeds. This electronic library will fill our needs with books by different authors.


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 » The Life We Live by Lexi Baker (best books to read for self improvement .TXT) 📖

Book online «The Life We Live by Lexi Baker (best books to read for self improvement .TXT) 📖». Author Lexi Baker



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One


"Lacy! Ive told you plenty of times. Keep your boots off the chairs! How many times do I need to tell you the same exact thing?!" My mother shouted from the doorway as she walked in and slammed the creaky apartment door shut.

 

I moved my legs off of the chair beside me and walked towards her leaning on the wall. I just stood staring at her until she acknowledged my presence.

 

"Mom, I tell you all the time that when I get home from school and work that I am exhausted. So here I ask again, please stop nagging me." A sharp crack echoed throughout the room as her hand connected with my cheek.

 

"Do not sass me." She snapped high and mighty for a moment before her face cracked and she pulled me in for a genuine hug.

 

"It's alright mom." I patted her hair until her sobs died down.

 

She laid her head on my shoulder for a couple of seconds more before pushing away and sparing a what I knew to being a fake smile.

 

"Are you hungry?" She forced.

 

I shrugged hoping she couldn't see how much my collarbones were beginning to protrude.

 

"You are, aren't you sweetie?"

 

I looked into her sad sad eyes before carefully selecting my words.

 

"We need to go grocery shopping again." I left for my room.

 

Closing my door slowly, I began to hear her sobs again. They were quiet and not as strong but they were still there. It bothered me to see her like this but I was doing my best to help. When my father left, he took everything. We had been sleeping and suddenly in the middle of the night he just got up and vanished. When we woke, my mother had told me he went on a work trip. I believed her for a while, until the eviction notice came.

Two


The next morning was a school day. It was also my eighteenth brthday. A deep sigh escaped my mouth as I stood and streched before making my way to the kitchen. My mother stood there hunched over a counter playing with her fingernails. I stayed watching her for a while before I accidentally made the floor boards creak. Her head shot up and she automatically smiled at me; eyes sunken in and skin strecthed tight across her face.

 

"Lacy baby. I have a sandwich for you. I went out and picked it up for you eariler." She said.

 

I glanced at the small plastic baggie beside her that contained a biscut with eggs and bacon within it. My stomach let out a loud growl and I rushed towards the counter not believing my eyes. I eyed the bag and then my mother; a true smile spreading across her face at my reaction.

 

I sat at one of the cheap wooden stools and began shoving the sandwich into my mouth. It felt amazing eating an actual meal again. A moan slipped out of my mouth causing me and my mom to erupt in a fit of laughter. She opened the fridge revealing a small carton of orange juice.

 

"Oh my gosh mom? Orange juice!? That's amazing, where did you get it from??" I moved to the fridge and scrooped up my surprise.

 

Gulping down the juice, I felt some of it dribble down my chin. I looked at her expectantly but found her staring into space with a sad expression. I slid my hand over and wrapped hers in mine.

 

"Mom, it's going to be okay." I said.

 

She nodded slowly almost looking like a bobblehead.

 

"I know sweetie, happy birthday."

 

I couldn't help the smile that lifted my cheeks.

 

She remembered. Now I only needed my brother to want to remember me; his one and only little sister.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I walked down the halls quietly, chin tucked closely to the textbooks I held snug in my arms. Being early October, the air was chilly and I simply couldn't afford buying clothes that would keep me completely warm. I took deep breaths, allowing my breath to defrost my numb fingers.

 

It didn't work. I made my way into my Mathematics class and sat towards the back of the room. I usually stayed quiet in all of my classes but this was the only one I tried to participate in. I don't know why I tried but it was probably because the teacher, Mrs. Muenez treated math as if it were an art. I guess I just respected that about her. She was my only role model.

 

"Class, does anyone know the formula for the line of symmetry of a parabola?" Mrs. Muenez sang.

 

I raised my hand, along with a couple of others who dared to answer her loaded question. She scanned the room for a hand to choose.

 

She didn't choose me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I turned the key in the lock quickly trying to avoid the dangerous stares I got from my neighbors.

 

"Mom, I'm home!" My voice rang out in the quiet apartment.

 

I slid off my run down classic vans by the doorway and tossed my bookbag on the couch. Today was a really long day at work for me. I had to deal with the local street rat that always occasionally walks into the diner pleading for change, meanwhile displaying something worth tons somewhere on her body or in her possession. She was arguing with me about something, although I couldn't really understand becuse her voice was so raspy. Presumably from all the smoking she did on the corner with a group a guys. I did however recognize when she called me a slut. But hey, I wasn't the one who chose the uniform waitresses had to wear. A black v-neck lowcut top that showed off too much cleavage along with tight black spandex pants. I was just doing my job. The job that I absolutely needed in order to keep up with the steady flow of monthly bills.

 

I walked into my room and changed into pj's before plopping on my bed and releasing my auburn hair from its ponytail. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes only to open them to a thumping sound. I closed my eyes again before a couple of other unknown things falling followed. I exited my room and found the source of the noise. The bathroom.

 

I knew my mother always wanted at least a small amount of privacy so I decided to crack the door open. Just to see if she was okay or needed anything.

 

The cabinets were all open, bottles of medication spilled in the sink and others knocked over onto the floor. Smeared blood stains were spread out along the black and white hexagon tiled floor leading upto the ivory tub. My eyes traveled the mess and there I saw my mom fidgeting, almost as if she were having an internal battle with herself. In one hand she held a pistol and in her other a knife. She was carving into herself.

 

My heartbeat seemed to speed up and the world was almost in slow motion. I tried to stop her...right before she pulled the trigger..I swear, I swear she looked into my eyes and mouthed the word sorry.

 

Her body slumped. I stood frozen before suddenly it all kicked in. I collasped on the floor right outside the bathroom and forced the door all the way open, just staring at her lifeless body. I rocked myself back and forth not knowing what to do, not knowing what to feel and then the tears started spilling over. Overflowing; blinding me.

 

"Mom...Mom..Mommy." I cried out over and over.

 

911.

 

I had to call 911, she could still be alive there might be a heartbeat. I know there could be a heartbeat, I've seen this scene on TV before. She could be alive I know she can.

 

The ambulence came minutes later.

 

There was no pulse.

Three

The nurse spoke but I wasn't listening.

 

Hospitals were so ugly and downright depressing. Pale and lifeless walls...like my mother when she- Sobs wracked my body and I fell to the floor; needing to curl into a fetus position.

 

A male nurse came over and picked me up, fitting me back into the chair and leaving for a moment before coming back and adding an IV to my person.

 

I scowled at the female nurse who stood nearby. Her voice suddenly came into perspective again.

 

"..you are now eighteen but we have found a family member who wants to help you get back on your feet. You will be staying with your brother Isiah in Pennsylvannia." She went on.

 

"My brother?" I cut her off.

 

She nodded.

 

"You will be staying here until you get back to a healthy weight."

 

Staying here.....Bills.

 

"No. You don't understand. I can't stay here, I don't have the money to and-"

 

"Your father will be paying the expenses."

 

"I don't have a father." I pressed my lips together into a thin line.

 

"Your records say-"

 

"I do not have a father." I said coldly. She was treading on dangerous territory.

 

She smiled condescendingly and nodded before walking away.

 

 

 

Four

I stared at myself in the mirror opposite the toilet. I was in the bathroom.

 

My skin was gaining its tan color again and my hair..it wasn't as dull. If anything, it seemed to have a certain healthy shine to it. My chest was fuller; my lips were plump. I also noticed how the skin around my dark blue eyes were not stretched as tight. I remember the way my mothers eyes were sunken into her-

 

I swiftly turned away from the mirror; my auburn hair swinging behind me, reaching mid back and tied back in a French braid. I had been in the hospital for a four months. The last three months weren't as rough as the first primarily because I had made a friend. Her name was Anna and

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