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The CEO's Sweet Secretary Is A Spy

Contemporary Romance
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What is The CEO's Sweet Secretary Is A Spy

Lisez le roman The CEO's Sweet Secretary Is A Spy écrit par l'auteur Nyx_Shadowweaver publié sur WebNovel. coming soon.....

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Different kids crave different kinds of attention and affection.

My 6-year-old son, Stuart, is the type of kid I envied growing up: sweet and obedient enough to win his teachers' approval but fun enough to score all the birthday party invites. Yet shortly after I returned from a spring work trip, I saw him pinch a green bean between his fingers and felt something whiz by my left ear. Then he shoved his 3-year-old sister, Josephine, to the ground.And later, he pulled the needles out of the knitting belonging to his older sister, Vivienne, letting the dropped stitches unravel to the floor. I knew he'd felt ignored that week, with me away and the girls busy on playdates. So I told him how much I loved him, again and again, but he'd shrug and walk away. I wasn't sure how to get through to him. That changed after I read an article about Gary Chapman, Ph.D., a marriage counselor known for his best-I realized that the verbal reassurances I'd been giving Stuart didn't mean nearly as much to him as hugs, cuddles, and other hands-on displays of affection. Now when he acts like he's running on an empty love tank, I scoop him up in my arms or shove his 65-pound, 4-foot frame into a baby carrier, and his mood flips as if I've hit a switch. But I still haven't stopped saying "I love you." Dr. Chapman insists that kids need to receive love in all five languages. That said, knowing which is your child's top choice can help strengthen your bond and stave off unwelcome behavior. The first step in identifying your child's primary love language is to pay attention to how they show you love. Why? We all tend to offer affection in the way we wish to receive it. As we get older, we learn that the Golden Rule can backfire in our relationships because we need to give love into others in the way that works best for them. But since kids generally don't pick up on that, they offer the brand of affection they crave. The other piece of the puzzle is what your child requests. Consider these five ways your child might speak or ask to be loved in their own unique love language.Dr. Chapman has a son who prefers this love language. "When I came home, he would run to the door, grab my leg, and climb all over me," he says. If children are constantly in your space, touching you, or playing with your hair, that's a signal that they need to be touched more, says Laura Markham, Ph.D., author of Peaceful Parent, Happy Kids.Snuggle on the couch, ask your kid if they want to sit on your lap, and offer foot massages and high fives. My own little guy has dubbed holding hands "a hug for my hand." Dr. Chapman also suggests wrestling and playing sports that require jostling. Diana Peterfreund, of Silver Spring, Maryland, says, "I give my 3-year-old daughter loud kisses all over her head the way Cookie Monster eats a cookie. She laughs and asks, 'More kissy monster?'" Virginia Green, of San Francisco, and her 5-year-old daughter, Eloise, have a secret handshake. When she's experiencing some big emotions, Green says, "I'll reach over and squeeze her hand three times—that equals 'I love you.'"A slap or spanking is hurtful to any child, Dr. Chapman warns, "but it is devastating to one whose primary love language is touch." Research has also shown that dads tend to become less physically affectionate when their daughters start to grow older because they feel ill at ease, says Dr. Markham. She suggests making a habit of good-morning and good-night hugs, even as kids get older.Someone whose primary love language is gifts tends to care about how a present is wrapped, and often remembers who gave them what for months or years after the fact. Anjali Jameson, of San Francisco, says, "One time, a grocery-delivery service sent me flowers because it had messed up my order. I spontaneously told my 5-year-old daughter that they were for her. She said, 'You love me!' and proceeded to tell everyone about the flowers from her parents." Another tip-off? Your kid has trouble throwing out things they have been given, even if they hav

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Path of the Loneliness

The Tower of Babylon is not part of the "official" list of wonders of the world. However, it is one of the most outstanding structures of the ancient Babylon, and its name is still a symbol of confusion and disorder. The Tower of Babylon is spoken of in the Book of Genesis, which was long before our era. In the country of Sennaar, in the basin of the rivers Tigris and Euphrates, on a beautiful, unusually good land lived all the people inhabiting the Earth and spoke the same language. They were living better and better, and it made them proud. "And they told each other, we will make bricks and burn fire. And they had bricks instead of stones, and ground tar instead of lime. And they said, Let us build for ourselves a city and a tower high to the heavens; And we shall make ourselves a name before we disperse ourselves in the face of all the earth." The tower was rising higher and higher until Yahweh was alarmed and decided to see what it was. Human pride led him into anger, and he mixed his tongues. And the builders stopped understanding each other by throwing away the piles of material and tools they had used, they gave up their defiant designs, and scattered all over the world. This was supposed to be the story, but the story will change in a different direction. The plot of this newsletter will tell you about the times when high technology was rivaling, and in this turmoil, out of nowhere, there was a huge tower in the center of the Equator. So, and the story of this interesting (maybe not) novelty began.

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On the other side of death - A story of love beyond the grave

When I was little, all I knew was fear. Fear of the gnawing hunger that consumed us from the inside. Fear of the biting cold that seeped through walls and wools and nipped at our toes and fingers. And fear of the ruthless lords who partied in the castle, up on the mountain, living off our work, our tears, our blood. We thought fear would keep us safe, make us cautious and wise. We prayed to our gods for protection, and paid our tithe to the vampire lords, and hoped for peace. Fear kept us in our place, my family and I. And it is in fear that they died. When I found them, mangled and covered in blood, l swore I would never live in fear again. If I were to die like them, l would at least die a brave death. I didn’t think that I might die a stupid death. All it takes is one wrong step. Tread on a twig, and they will hear you coming. Step on a viper and you will never have a chance to take on the vampire. There are so many things that can go wrong in the mountains. One moment, one tiny slip, and your life flashes before your eyes, every memory vivid and painful like a knife through the heart. And when you breathe your last, labored breath, the last thing you see is the vampire, leaning over you in the dark, moonless night, savoring his victory. My last thought, as I lay dying, was that, at least, there would be no vampires in the afterlife. Whether I was going to heaven or hell, I knew I had escaped him and his kind. There is no eternal rest for the undead, no passage into the world beyond. We would never meet again. Or so I thought. For the briefest moment, when I woke up in the tight coffin, I thought that I’d survived. But only for a moment. Then the painful realization hit me: my heart wasn’t beating. And, instead of the hunger that had ruled my entire life, I felt a dire thirst.

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