Who Is The Author Of The Book Lemonade?

"How is it possible that each time I close my eyes, your face is the only thing I see? How do I tell you that when you are not with me, I get lovesick? How do I tell you that every second of my life is filled with thoughts of you? How do I tell you, Mr. Zach, that I have fallen head over heels in love with you?" - Paige ~~~~~~~ "From the moment I saw you, you became my reason for breathing. Even when darkness engulfs me, I only have to take one look at you and my world becomes bright again. I cannot live in a world without you. I love you, My Little Sunshine." - Zach. ~~~~~~~ They all said Zachary Fletcher was proud, ruthless, and callous but when eighteen years old Paige Summers was accused, disgraced, and left to die in the cold, Zach took her home and promised, "I will make you a star!" From that moment, she became his world.

When I was seven, my father brought home a beautiful lady who gave me a mango. That day, my mother watched me happily eating the mango while she signed her name on the divorce papers. After that, she jumped off the roof of our building. From then on, mangoes became the nightmare of my life. So on my wedding day, I told my husband, Alan Holt, "If you ever want a divorce, just give me a mango." Alan pulled me into his arms, quiet. From then on, mangoes became off-limits for him, too. On Christmas Eve of our fifth year of marriage, Alan's childhood sweetheart, Larissa Fennimore, left a mango on his desk at the office. The very same day, Alan announced he was cutting ties with Larissa and fired her from the company. That day, I truly believed he was the man I was meant to be with. Half a year later, I flew back from overseas, having just closed a partnership deal worth about 200 million dollars. At the celebration dinner, Alan handed me a drink. After I had finished half the glass, his so-called childhood sweetheart, the woman who had been kicked out of the company, stood behind me with a big grin and asked, "Does the mango juice taste good?" I stared at Alan in disbelief, and he was trying hard not to laugh. "Don't be mad. Larissa insisted I played a little joke on you. I didn't actually give you a mango; I just gave you a bottle of mango juice. But I think she's right. The fact that you don't eat mangoes is a real problem. You were really enjoying that juice just now." My face went cold. I lifted my hand and threw the rest of the mango juice in his face, then turned around and walked away. Some things are never a joke. I wouldn't kid around with mangoes or divorce.

Note: This is a super erotic +18 pages of her diary. Read at your own risk. When the thunder rolls and the lights flicker, Lexi writes, and nothing is off limits. Trapped between the walls of a religious household and the firestorm inside her own body, Lexi is a quiet 21-year-old woman with a loud, unfiltered diary. Orphaned at twelve and raised by her aunt and pastor uncle in a small Georgia town, Lexi lives in the shadows — but her fantasies, frustrations, and forbidden desires fill every page of her private journal. Naked Pages: The Diary of Lexi is a confessional coming-of-age erotica told from the perspective of a young woman exploring her sexuality in secret. From heartbreak and betrayal to late-night cravings, self-discovery, and unexpected temptation, Lexi’s journey is messy, raw, and deeply honest. She’s not searching for love — she’s chasing something real: connection, pleasure, and control over her own story. As she transitions into a new life in Atlanta, surrounded by new people and new dangers, Lexi’s entries grow even bolder. And every chapter she writes pulls us deeper into her unfiltered world — full of heat, heartbreak, and hard truths. This is more than just her diary. It’s her freedom.

a really good book for you. I hope you like it becuase it tells you a good story. Please read it.

His songs were better when he had a broken heart. That sentence would change my life after my dream job was dished to me on a shiny, silver platter. All I had to do? Hurt Nash Pierce enough to get him writing good music again. The pop icon’s songs were no longer the phenomena they used to be. His team needed another breakthrough album—like the first he’d penned, using his heartbreak as fuel. The plan was simple: I’d go on tour with him as a backup dancer…and make him fall in love with me. I was hired to inspire—to become embedded into every lyric he wrote. Then, I was to set fire to it all—to destroy every feeling we hoped he’d develop for me. It seemed simple enough. Easy, even. I didn’t expect to be consumed myself—to see so much in the man displayed in the tabloids. I didn’t foresee falling for him. It didn’t occur to me that, while attempting to break his heart, I might just shatter my own. Most of all, I never thought I’d fight so hard to hold on to a relationship that had always been founded on goodbye.

Once upon a time, a lion saved a girl. His little cinnamon girl. That lion grew up into a prince. Dark, bitter, and so beautiful that it hurt to look at him. But underneath it all, the girl saw the man. She saw his hunger for love and affection, and she had plenty to give. I was that girl. I fell in love, even though he told me not to. I gave him everything, because that was who I was. I was determined to show him the light in this world, and his smiles were what I lived for. He was my art, my melody, my muse. We were beautiful together. So I gave and gave, all to my bitter prince. Until I had nothing left to give. Until he left me empty. No one warned me love would push me into darkness so cold, it’d tear me apart. To survive, I’d have to kill the cinnamon girl and become someone else. Someone I didn’t recognize.