Résultats pour "Mama" dans Roman féminin

This is laugh-aloud chick-lit that will have you hooked from the opening scene. In this world of Prada, Louis Vuitton, and Bulgari, our heroine, Mim, has to do battle with the Car Park Mafia and the Mothers Superior as she drops her children off at the most prestigious school in Melbourne. But in between keeping up with the Joneses - or, in this case, the Mason-Jacksons - cracks are starting to show in Mim's perfect life.

Women are flocking to invest in film producer Robert Williams' latest project, and Gracie's mother is no exception. She has sunk her life savings into his latest movie investment scheme. Big returns were promised, along with the chance to hobnob with famous actors. Now, the money's gone, the bank is threatening foreclosure, and Mama has also taken on the responsibility of Gracie's younger sister and her two kids. Left homeless, the whole brood may be showing up at Gracie's door!

Most people think of the morgue as that cold and sterile facility where medical examiners do their necessary, albeit dreadful, work. Less familiar is the other type of morgue, the dry and dusty version, the newspaper morgue, usually housed in the basements and backrooms of newspaper buildings, where old news clippings are filed away. Dolly Madison Sprowls has been in charge of the Hannawa Herald-Union’s morgue for more than forty years. She is gruff and salty, well past the age of retirement, and the unchallenged queen of her ink-stained domain.

Maria needed heavenly intervention, and thankfully, my Abuelita and Tias took on her case. They have some impressive connections here in the afterlife and got clearance and approvals in record time. My Abuelita and Tias are sassy, tech-savvy, sometimes ill-tempered, tequila-drinking, cigar-smoking cooking divas, and they're unstoppable. Okay, pour yourself a margarita, grab a pink concha or two, and put on salsa music. You might also need a few tissues, and Maria will take over from here and give you every juicy detail of her story.

In the tranquil embrace of her serene bedroom, surrounded by the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains, Deya sat on her bed, reminiscing about the tumultuous journey that was her life. Glistening tears raced down her cheeks and she made no attempts to wipe them. Her gaze drifted across the room, adorned with mementos of resilience and determination.

My husband is seeing someone behind my back, deceiving me, and I fear that I risk losing him if I can't do something to turn things around. I briefly consider proposing a threesome with him and his new female companion, but I'm certain I don't have anywhere near the confidence necessary for something like that.