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886件中 151件 - 180件 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

商品	説明	価格
Passive Prosperity A Comprehensive Guide to Passive Investing【電子書籍】[ Hossein Azarnik ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞"Passive Prosperity" aims to be a comprehensive guide for both beginners and experienced investors seeking to understand and master the art of passive investing. By exploring the principles, strategies, and real-world applications of passive investing, readers will gain the knowledge and confidence needed to build a secure financial future.＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	1,069円
Pillars of Wealth Building Prosperity for a Lifetime【電子書籍】[ Hossein Azarnik ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞In a world marked by constant change and economic uncertainties, the quest for financial success and stability remains a universal aspiration. "Pillars of Wealth" is a guide designed to illuminate the path toward building lasting prosperity. Drawing on timeless principles and contemporary insights, this book aims to empower readers to cultivate wealth that stands firm in the face of challenges.＜/p＞＜p＞"Pillars of Wealth" is a comprehensive guide designed to equip readers with the knowledge and mindset needed to build enduring prosperity. By embracing the principles outlined in this book, individuals can navigate the complexities of the financial landscape and construct a wealth foundation that stands the test of time. Whether you are just starting on your financial journey or seeking to enhance your existing wealth-building strategies, this book serves as a valuable resource for achieving lasting financial success.＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	1,069円
Mastering Wealth A Practical Guide to Financial Success【電子書籍】[ Hossein Azarnik ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞Welcome to "Mastering Wealth: A Practical Guide to Financial Success." In this book, we will explore the principles and strategies that can empower you to take control of your finances and build lasting wealth. This guide aims to provide you with actionable steps, insights, and a roadmap to achieve financial mastery.＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	1,069円
Mastering the Art of Investment A Comprehensive Guide to Building Wealth【電子書籍】[ Hossein Azarnik ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞In a world driven by financial opportunities, the art of investment holds the key to building long-term wealth and financial security. However, navigating the complex and ever-changing investment landscape can be daunting for the uninitiated. This book, "Mastering the Art of Investment," aims to equip readers with the knowledge, strategies, and mindset required to succeed in the world of investing.＜/p＞＜p＞"Mastering the Art of Investment" is a comprehensive guide that empowers readers to take control of their financial future. By understanding the fundamentals of investment, exploring various investment strategies, and managing risk with a disciplined mindset, readers will gain the confidence to make informed and successful investment decisions. Whether you are a novice investor or a seasoned market participant, this book will serve as a valuable resource on your journey towards financial prosperity.＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	1,069円
Master Your Money A Blueprint for Financial Success【電子書籍】[ Hossein Azarnik ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞"Mastering your money" is a broad concept that involves effectively managing your finances, making informed decisions, and developing good financial habits. Mastering your money is an ongoing process that requires commitment and discipline. Regularly reassessing your financial situation and adjusting your strategies will help you stay on the path to financial success.＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	1,069円
I will show you the path to wealth A Practical Guide to Financial Mastery【電子書籍】[ Hossein Azarnik ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞Welcome to " I will show you the path to wealth”, your comprehensive guide to achieving financial success and building wealth. In this book, we will embark on a journey together, exploring actionable strategies, mindset shifts, and practical tips that will transform your relationship with money.Embrace the journey ahead, and may your path be paved with abundance, prosperity, and the fulfillment of your richest dreams.＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	1,069円
Dream, Act, Prosper A Blueprint for Manifesting Wealth and Success【電子書籍】[ Hossein Azarnik ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞In the world of boundless opportunities and limitless potential, the journey towards prosperity begins not with material wealth, but with the richness of one's thoughts. " Dream, Act, Prosper “is a guide that transcends traditional notions of success, aiming to illuminate the path to abundance through the power of the mind.＜/p＞＜p＞" Dream, Act, Prosper “ is not just a book; it's a blueprint for unlocking the vast reservoir of potential within every individual. Through the alignment of thoughts, goals, persistence, and collaboration, readers are empowered to transform their lives and grow rich in every sense imaginable.＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	1,069円
The Art of Wealth Timeless Wisdom for Financial Success and Fulfillment【電子書籍】[ Hossein Azarnik ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞In "The Art of Wealth," we embark on a journey through the intricate landscape of money, exploring its psychological nuances and uncovering timeless lessons on wealth, greed, and happiness. This book takes a fresh perspective on the art of accumulating and managing wealth.＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	1,069円
Machine Learning Crash Course for Engineers【電子書籍】[ Eklas Hossain ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞＜em＞Machine Learning Crash Course for Engineers＜/em＞ is a reader-friendly introductory guide to machine learning algorithms and techniques for students, engineers, and other busy technical professionals. The book focuses on the application aspects of machine learning, progressing from the basics to advanced topics systematically from theory to applications and worked-out Python programming examples. It offers highly illustrated, step-by-step demonstrations that allow readers to implement machine learning models to solve real-world problems. This powerful tutorial is an excellent resource for those who need to acquire a solid foundational understanding of machine learning quickly.＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	7,292円
Muchos Sentimientos (Lots of Feelings) SPA-MUCHOS SENTIMIENTOS (LOTS （Shelley Rotner's Early Childhood Library） [ Shelley Rotner ] 楽天ブックス	SPAーMUCHOS SENTIMIENTOS (LOTS Shelley Rotner's Early Childhood Library Shelley Rotner Shelley Rotner MILLBROOK PR2024 Paperback Spanish ISBN：9798765625484 洋書 Books for kids（児童書） Juvenile Nonfiction	2,516円
Os Evangelhos Sin?ticos Marcos, Mateus e Lucas - Um mergulho missional【電子書籍】[ Sherron K. George ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞A S?rie Mergulho Missional tem como objetivo mostrar que nosso Deus ? um Deus missional com a miss?o de resgatar e restaurar a humanidade e toda a sua cria??o. Para cumprir seu prop?sito e promessas missionais, Deus enviou seu Filho e depois seu Esp?rito sobre um grupo de homens e mulheres e a igreja missional nasceu. A B?blia ? um livro missional que conta essa hist?ria de amor transformadora. Portanto, para entender a miss?o toda ? preciso tratar da B?blia toda. A inten??o da s?rie ? mergulhar nas profundezas desse enredo missional, de G?nesis a Apocalipse, com uma linguagem simples, em cap?tulos curtos com relev?ncia contextual e desafios concretos para pessoas em institui??es teol?gicas e ag?ncias missionais, para pastores e pastoras engajados na obra pastoral e missional no seu contexto, para grupos de estudo b?blico, e para todas as pessoas que querem entender o enredo ?ureo da B?blia, desenvolver sua vida crist?, edificar e mobilizar sua igreja local e fazer uma diferen?a na sociedade e no mundo. A s?rie come?a com Atos dos Ap?stolos, para vermos o nascimento e o crescimento da igreja primitiva que, ao descer o Esp?rito Santo, j? nasceu missional, testemunhando nas ruas. Acompanhamos dois mission?rios, Pedro e Paulo, e muitos homens e mulheres que contribu?ram nessa comunidade de comunh?o, adora??o e miss?o, na expans?o das igrejas em um ambiente hostil. Muitas li??es e modelos para n?s. A seguir, v?m os primeiros livros escritos no Novo Testamento ー as Cartas do maior mission?rio de todos os tempos, o ap?stolo Paulo. Com Atos no bojo, seguimos a poss?vel cronologia em que foram escritas. Fica evidente que a B?blia foi escrita por pessoas engajadas em miss?o, e que Paulo escreveu para formar igrejas missionais. Depois, v?m os pr?ximos livros escritos: os tr?s Evangelhos Sin?ticos (ou similares). Come?ando com o mais antigo e fonte dos outros, Marcos, obra de um companheiro de Paulo que fracassou, mas se recuperou e foi muito ?til para Paulo e Pedro no fim de suas jornadas. Em seguida, Mateus, que acrescenta outros ensinamentos de Jesus. Finalmente, Lucas, outro parceiro de Paulo, que acrescenta mais hist?rias e par?bolas de compaix?o. ? claro, precisamos incluir Jo?o, um Evangelho com di?logos missionais in?ditos e um curso intensivo de prepara??o dos disc?pulos para serem enviados em miss?o, al?m de suas cartas. ? preciso voltar ao come?o para entender o fim. A s?rie mergulha nas a??es missionais em G?nesis e ?xodo, com foco na cria??o, na liberta??o e nas promessas missionais feitas para Abra?o, Sara e Mois?s na forma??o de um povo com uma miss?o. No volume seguinte v?m as vis?es conducentes e prof?ticas de Isa?as e Apocalipse de uma nova cria??o prometida, o novo c?u e a nova terra, e o ajuntamento dos povos. E haver? mais volumes! Mulheres em miss?o na B?blia, Salmos e o convite missional a todos os povos e toda a cria??o para adorar o ?nico Deus. E assim vai...＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	1,200円
a time heavy with life【電子書籍】[ joachin matschoss ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞…the time that lies ahead of him grows shorter. the rearview mirror has been cleaned and he can see his younger self, but he cannot hear him. the words he once had spoken are transcribed by memory, unvoiced…＜br /＞＜em＞A book of memory, of a life and of our time.＜/em＞＜br /＞ - PHILIP KAVAN＜br /＞ The process of reading these new poems is to re-experience what the past feels like. It is a strangely moving little book, true and dignified.＜br /＞ - LAURA GRAHAM＜br /＞ Matschoss understands that the language of intimacy between humans extends to interactions with landscape, history, animals, and weather.＜br /＞ - ANTHONY LAWRENCE＜br /＞ Every now and then the poet turns his gaze upon himself evoking places he has been and moments he has lived.＜br /＞ - ANDREW BOVELL＜br /＞ I am mesmerized by the intimacy the poems capture in these lyrical scenarios.＜br /＞ - THOMAS KELLOGG＜br /＞ Joachim Matschoss offers a hope and acknowledgement of life's beauty and of the resilience of love and youth.＜br /＞ - JILLIAN CAMPANA＜br /＞ There is nothing that can’t be found in poetry.＜br /＞ - MAX REISER＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	267円
Muchos sentimientos (Lots of Feelings)【電子書籍】[ Shelley Rotner ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞＜strong＞Puedes leer un libro, ?pero sab?as que tambi?n puedes leer una cara?＜/strong＞＜/p＞＜p＞Una cara puede decirte lo que otra persona est? sintiendo. En este ensayo fotogr?fico elocuente, con texto simple y fotograf?as, se presentan las emociones b?sicasーfelicidad, malhumor, cavilaci?n y m?sーy c?mo demuestran estas emociones las personas.＜/p＞＜p＞"Ya sea en grupos, con los padres, individualmente con una persona que act?e como orientadora o en una clase, este libro proporciona las herramientas para facilitar una conversaci?n sobre los ni?os y sus sentimientos."ー＜em＞School Library Journal＜/em＞＜/p＞＜p＞You can read a book, but did you know that you can also read a face?＜/p＞＜p＞A face can tell you what someone is feeling. In this expressive photo-essay, simple text and photographs introduce basic emotionsーhappy, grumpy, thoughtful, and moreーand how people show them.＜/p＞＜p＞Whether shared with a group, parents, or a counselorーindividually or in a classーthis title provides the tools to facilitate discussion about children and their feelings."ー＜em＞School Library Journal＜/em＞＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	1,174円
Vampire Wars : A Reverse Harem Vampire Romance【電子書籍】[ AKASH HOSSAIN ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞Too long. This is taking too fucking long.＜/p＞＜p＞If Bastian is healing, he’s doing it so slowly he might as well be mortal. The burns on his face and body are weeping, although I couldn’t tell you what they’re weeping. I’ve never seen a vampire stay wounded this＜/p＞＜p＞long.＜/p＞＜p＞I can hear the low rumble of concerned murmurs from the other room. These walls aren’t exactly thick. I could probably hear what they’re saying if I were to focus on it, but my focus is a little wrapped up at the moment. The talk I had with Bastian earlier pretty much wiped him out. If he doesn’t have enough energy to get through a short conversation and a quick adrenaline spike, I don’t know how he’s ever going to come back to himself.＜/p＞＜p＞I brush his hair back from his face, but he doesn’t react. His eyes are glassy and unfocused. I’m not sure he even knows I’m here. His lack of response worries me, but at the same time, his inattention is sort of a relief.＜/p＞＜p＞Because I’m not used to working through complex emotions with an audience.＜/p＞＜p＞He tried to kill me.＜/p＞＜p＞As macabre as it is, that thought makes me smile, tears burning the backs of my eyes.＜/p＞＜p＞He tried to free me from this curse, tried to let me die as a human.＜/p＞＜p＞I touch the unburned half of his face, and my heart squeezes. He tried to give me what I wanted, even though it would hurt himーpersonally and politically. He was ready to gamble his power against my freedom.＜/p＞＜p＞Maybe attempted murder shouldn’t be romantic. I can’t think of a whole lot of situations where it would be. But vampirism… for so much of my life, I saw it as a living death, a fate worse than oblivion. Far worse than death. Of all the things in the world I didn’t want, vampirism was far and away the thing I wanted least. Bastian knew that.＜/p＞＜p＞Almost more importantly, when his attempt to kill me didn’t work, he let me rage at him. The poison he gave me didn’t end my life or interrupt the change taking place in my body after Tyresius forced me to drink his blood. It didn’t stop me from becoming a vampire.＜/p＞＜p＞But Bastian never told me what he’d tried to do. Instead, he let me accuse him of betrayal and freak out on him and throw it in his face over and over.＜/p＞＜p＞Fuck, the guilt of that might crush me.＜/p＞＜p＞I needed someone to be pissed off at or I would have killed myself. I needed a villain. Bastian allowed himself to be that for me.＜/p＞＜p＞“Goddammit,” I whisper as tears spill down my cheeks. I hate crying. The wounded vampire prince isn’t even conscious nowーhe’s been＜/p＞＜p＞drifting in and outーbut I wipe the tears away furiously anyway. Apparently, the potion that was meant to kill me turned me into a day-＜/p＞＜p＞walking vampire instead. I don’t even know what to do with that information. It’s not like I’ve had a whole lot of time to get used to being a mundane vampire, and now I have to get comfortable with belonging to a whole new category?＜/p＞＜p＞Are there any others like me?＜/p＞＜p＞I can’t imagine there would be. If this was just a matter of adding a potion to the transformation process, wouldn’t vampires be doing it all the time? It would benefit them, after all. They’d be able to build their empires more efficiently, pulling humans into their webs of deception at all hours of the day instead of being forced to stay in the dark corners of the world, emerging only at night.＜/p＞＜p＞If there’s anything all vampires seem to missーfor the first few decades at leastーit’s the kiss of sunlight.＜/p＞＜p＞Bastian groans in pain, twisting his head to the side as his eyes flutter halfway open, and I grimace at the sight of his charred skin. The fucking sun almost killed him today. He’s healing, here and thereーa few patches of skin have turned from brittle black to a raw redーbut it’s taking everything out of him.＜/p＞＜p＞I put my hand on his chest softly as my own chest tightens. I want to help him, want to feed himーbut it wouldn’t do him any good. Vampire blood doesn’t work like human blood does. It’s all flavor and no substance. Even if it fills his belly, it won’t help. It’ll just give him something to digest, stealing energy from his healing.＜/p＞＜p＞I feel fucking helpless, and I hate it.＜/p＞＜p＞There’s a light tap on the bedroom door, then Jessica pokes her head through. She glances from me to Bastian and back, her big hazel eyes shining with worry.＜/p＞＜p＞“How is he?” she asks.＜/p＞＜p＞“He’s…” I grimace. He’s not dead, but he might wish he was. “He’s okay.”＜/p＞＜p＞My friend gives me a look, silently calling me out. Bastian isn’t okay. Not even close. She steps into the room and shuts the door behind her but stays where she is. She looks softly down at the prince, the man at the top of the food chain she’s been at the bottom of for so long, lying wounded and helpless far above ground in this rundown apartment complex.＜/p＞＜p＞I put myself in her shoes for a moment, and it makes my blood run cold.＜/p＞＜p＞If I were her, I’d kill him.＜/p＞＜p＞Right here, right now.＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	199円
Killer Lies (The Chaos Crew 2)【電子書籍】[ AKASH HOSSAIN ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞＜strong＞Decima＜/strong＞＜/p＞＜p＞I WASN’T sure I’d ever seen anything quite as horrifying as the videos Blaze had loaded onto his phone.＜/p＞＜p＞They weren’t disturbing in a gory, blood spewing everywhere kind of way. That, I could have stomached no problem. Instead, I watched a childー no more than four years oldーlearn to fight like a professional killer. I could see the way she put all of her efforts into training for the sake of appeasing her tutors. She wielded a knife with her right hand and repeated the motions that she’d been taught only once.＜/p＞＜p＞She moved unlike any other four-year-old I’d ever seen. Which made sense, considering that this video was two years into her training. She would have given an experienced soldier a hard time despite the little hands and the angelic face that was occasionally whipped by the long braid of dark hair that ran down her back.＜/p＞＜p＞She was deadly. Fast. Strong.＜/p＞＜p＞She was me.＜/p＞＜p＞In the past two hours, I’d watched dozens of these videos. They’d started when I was around two years old, crying for a mother I didn’t remember. By four years old, it looked like I’d completely forgotten her, which I guessed also made sense. Most people couldn’t remember their earliest years. I’d been so young when they must have taken me.＜/p＞＜p＞It hadn’t taken long before Noelle was both my family and trainer in one.＜/p＞＜p＞Now and then, I still struggled to wrap my head around the fact that the little girl in the videos was me, especially when I didn’t remember that entire chunk of my life. But she was. Even the video files were named “Decima” with a date and series of numbers attached. If they hadn’t been, I still would have recognized myself in that childish face. As I got farther into the videos, I started to come across training sequences that had stuck in my memory from way back then.＜/p＞＜p＞As the video I was currently watching came to an end, I decided I’d had enough. What more could I learn from them? The household had stolen me from my parents when I’d been a toddler. They’d instructed me in fighting arts and stealth for reasons I didn’t understand. No explanations were given in the video records. Noelle must have carried them on her for some kind of reference if she’d needed to push on a specific part of my training.＜/p＞＜p＞It wasn’t just physical training in there, after all. A few of the videos had shown the psychological conditioning I hadn’t even realized I’d gone through. The conditioning that had embedded the awful phrase that had let them take over my free will: Garlic milkshake. And programmed me with other innate responses through hypnosis and punishment too.＜/p＞＜p＞Suddenly I understood why I’d always felt uncomfortable about the idea of turning on the TV in any of my hotel rooms while on assignment unless I had to in order to gather information. Why I’d never been the slightest bit tempted to step outside my rooms in the household without explicit permission. Why I’d barely asked any questions about my role in the household until I’d finally escaped it.＜/p＞＜p＞They’d honed my body and shaped my mind into the exact tool they’d wanted me to be. A shudder ran through me at the thought.＜/p＞＜p＞I shifted on the picnic bench and reached across the space between that table and the one where the guys were sitting, handing the phone back to Blaze. We’d come to this secluded corner of a park in the wan early morning light so that he could show me more of what he’d discovered. We hadn’t wanted to linger at the scene where Noelle had attacked meーand where she and her men had met their deaths.＜/p＞＜p＞I was still wary of the four hitmen eyeing me from across the distance between the tables, but I couldn’t resist flopping back on my own and closing my eyes, trying to put a cap on the emotions that were roaring through me.＜/p＞＜p＞Who was I really? Were my parents still out there? Why had Noelle and the others treated me like this?＜/p＞＜p＞The strongest emotion by far was confusion. That and queasiness at the awareness that I had no idea who I’d been before I’d been kidnapped or who I’d have grown to be.＜/p＞＜p＞But that part didn’t matter, really. I was Decima now, and nothing would change that.＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	199円
Couple on Hold (Enigma Book 1)【電子書籍】[ AKASH HOSSAIN ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞I wish for the storm on the horizon to roll in as I watch Dane’s casket being lowered into the ground. This is it: a folded flag in his wife’s trembling hands, a three-gun salute that startles his daughters, and the fucking wheelchair that commenced his demise. His life is now over. Done. Forgotten before half the mourners have left his gravesite.＜/p＞＜p＞I’m madーI’m downright fucking furiousーbut more than anything, I’m sad.＜/p＞＜p＞This wasn’t him. That chair they placed at his gravesite is a mockery to the man he once was. They should have let him leave this world standing tall and proud. They should have been the rod in his spine when it was wrongly removed from his back. If they had done their job, I could wake up from this nightmare. I could see his smiling face and smell his taco-laced breath. Instead, I bend down to gather his youngest daughter, Addison, in my arms, the complexity of the situation lost on her since she is only two.＜/p＞＜p＞She blows raspberries on my cheek before giggling at my beard tickling her chin. It’s a beautiful thing to hear on such a dark and dreary day. Her girly squeals and talc-powder bottom pulls me out of the tempestuous place I’ve been huddled in the past five days. I thought those eight minutes Dane and I spent hunkered down in the field all those years ago would be my darkest time. I had no idea.＜/p＞＜p＞I’ve lost agents before, men above and below me, but this is different. Dane wasn’t just an agent. He was my friend. My brother. The mischief-maker who ensured no task was ever mundane. I might not have survived the academy if it wasn’t for him. I saw rules and protocol. He saw adventures and opportunities. We were the same, yet so completely different.＜/p＞＜p＞I stop reminiscing when a flash of silver catches my eye. Kristin smiles before handing me a tiny shovel. When I remain standing frozen, fucking lost, she jerks her head to the hole in the ground that will now be forever known as Dane’s final resting place. I shake my head when she attempts to remove Addison from my arms. This will be easier if she stays.＜/p＞＜p＞I don’t need to tell Addison what to do when we reach her daddy’s gravesite. She digs the pointy end of the shovel into the dirt the pastor uncovered ten minutes ago before tossing it into the hole.＜/p＞＜p＞I expect her to continue shoveling, but she surprises me by dropping the shovel to her side before launching herself into my arms. Maybe I didn’t give her enough credit? Perhaps she can feel the sentiment in the air?＜/p＞＜p＞“Good girl,” I praise her when her big blue eyes seek approval from mine. “You did great.”＜/p＞＜p＞And now I must do the same.＜/p＞＜p＞It takes another twenty minutes for each member of Dane’s family to say their final goodbyes. I’ve never understood the ritual of shoveling dirt into a grave. I get that it’s symbolic that man was born of this earth and has returned to this earth upon his death, but shouldn’t the person who has passed be forever carried in our hearts? Why must this be it?＜/p＞＜p＞Recognizing that standing graveside at my best friend’s funeral won’t give me the answers I am seeking, I hand Addison to her mother before heading to the procession of funeral cars tucked in the bottom far corner of the graveyard. The further I travel, the more my focus shifts from one heartache to another. It’s been five days since I’ve seen Regan. Five days of unanswered calls, five days of unread messages, and five days of letting my anger fester to the point of being unhealthy.＜/p＞＜p＞She is the cause of the fury slicking my veins, the reason I can’t numb my feelings. I need her, but instead of standing beside me as I face my darkest day, she stays at his side, protecting him, sheltering him. Choosing him.＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	200円
El asunto de los multimillonarios【電子書籍】[ AKASH HOSSAIN ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞"El parecido es bastante notable, Caroline. Podr?as haber sido la modelo, ven aqu? y echa un vistazo". Las finas y largas manos de Edward Weinberg le hicieron una se?a y ella dej? la lista de invitados para la pr?xima visita privada sobre la hermosa extensi?n, fastidiosamente despejada, de su escritorio y fue a reunirse con ?l frente al cuadro que un portero uniformado acababa de traer de la c?mara acorazada y colocar en un caballete.＜/p＞＜p＞El comentario de su jefe sobre el parecido era irrelevante, pero a ella le consum?a la curiosidad de ver por fin la obra maestra que Michael, el hijo de Edward, hab?a adquirido en una subasta de un peque?o pueblo hace unos meses.＜/p＞＜p＞La obra perdida del pintor prerrafaelista J. J. Lassoon, cuidadosamente limpiada y minuciosamente autentificada, hab?a provocado una profunda excitaci?n adquisitiva entre el selecto grupo de coleccionistas que pod?an permitirse pagar mucho dinero por el placer de poseer un objeto de codiciable belleza.＜/p＞＜p＞Caroline hab?a estado en el norte de Inglaterra asesorando al nuevo heredero de una de las grandes casas sobre lo que pod?a enajenar, con el mayor beneficio y el menor dolor, para pagar los derechos de sucesi?n, y se hab?a perdido toda la emoci?n.＜/p＞＜p＞?Qu? ser? m?s importante, el prestigio o el beneficio? Ella mir? a Edward con ojos de color violeta intenso, pero su expresi?n no delataba nada. Ten?a el rostro de un esteta afligido, su figura alta y elegante parec?a lo suficientemente fr?gil como para ser arrastrada por una r?faga de viento. Pero era tan duro como unas botas viejas. Si le hubieran pedido que apostara por sus verdaderos sentimientos, habr?a puesto el prestigio como su principal preocupaci?n.＜/p＞＜p＞Las Galer?as Weinberg, con sede en Londres, gozaban de una reputaci?n ferozmente vigilada por ofrecer arte y artefactos de la mejor calidad. La adquisici?n del cuadro de Lassoon s?lo pod?a aumentar su reputaci?n.＜/p＞＜p＞Te dejar? que reflexiones sobre eso". Edward sonri? mientras se daba la vuelta y Caroline dedic? su atenci?n a la obra maestra reci?n descubierta, s?lo para que su aliento se congelara en sus pulmones porque ?l ten?a raz?n. El parecido era notable. M?s que notable. Era asombroso.＜/p＞＜p＞En un entorno de exuberante vegetaci?n, la modelo del artista ahuecaba un lirio blanco entre sus manos curvadas y era la imagen misma de ella, exactamente como la hab?a visto doce a?os atr?s, a la edad de diecisiete. La nube de pelo negro brillante que le llegaba casi a la cintura, la translucidez juvenil de la piel lechosa, la nariz fina y patricia, la sobrecarga de la piel.＜/p＞＜p＞nariz patricia, los labios rosados demasiado llenos abiertos en una sonrisa secreta, los ojos violetas profundos, so?adores y ahogados. So?ando con el amor, ahog?ndose en el amor.＜/p＞＜p＞Incluso el t?tulo era adecuado. El primer amor.＜/p＞＜p＞Un escalofr?o de amarga ira recorri? su columna vertebral. As? era exactamente como se hab?a visto todos esos a?os atr?s cuando hab?a amado a Ben Dexter con todo su apasionado ser. Tanto amor que pens? que podr?a morir de ?l.＜/p＞＜p＞S?, ?se era el aspecto que ten?a antes de saber la verdad, antes de que ?l le diera la espalda y se alejara de su turbulenta relaci?n amorosa, con el dinero de su padre en el bolsillo, m?s dinero del que el chico del lado equivocado de las v?as hab?a visto en su vida, con sus ojos negros y gitanos brillando con la satisfacci?n de un negocio bien hecho, con su cuerpo delgado y viril pavone?ndose con un triunfo despiadado.＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	132円
Kiss Me Tonight (Put A Ring On It Book 2)【電子書籍】[ AKASH HOSSAIN ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞Handling balls isn’t for everyone.＜/p＞＜p＞But here I am, playing with the decades-old football that the Golden Fleece keeps around for whenever a Levi enters＜/p＞＜p＞the pub.＜/p＞＜p＞Growing up, I always pretended the honor was bestowed upon us because someone in my family did the world a good deed. You know, something inspiring, like curing a rare disease or establishing a school for god-knows-what or proving, once and for all, that aliens exist and Earth isn’t the sole survivable planet. I don’t know, something monumental, something that carries weight and importanceーsomething more than the truth.＜/p＞＜p＞And the truth is, us Levis are notoriously notable for only one thing:＜/p＞＜p＞football.＜/p＞＜p＞The town of London loves us for it. Loves me for it, even though I have two strikes against me. My lack of penis being the first, and my status as a “traitor” trailing behind in a close second place. The minute I eloped with Rick, the general manager for the Pittsburgh Steelers, heads started to roll. My mother’s included.＜/p＞＜p＞No New Englander betrays the beloved Patriots like I did and lives to tell the tale.＜/p＞＜p＞Luckily for me, Londoners are the sort to forgive, if not forget, a fact I’ve never been more grateful for than when Shawn, the pub’s long-time＜/p＞＜p＞bartender, flips over a fresh pint glass, fills it to the brim with Guinness, and plunks it down in front of me with a we-knew-you’d-come-crawling-back-at-some-point gleam in his dark eyes.＜/p＞＜p＞Out loud, though?＜/p＞＜p＞No questions asked.＜/p＞＜p＞No snide remarks about how my ring finger is surprisingly bare since we last crossed paths or that I’m already straddling the thin line between sober-and-boring and drunk-and-dancing-on-pool-tables.＜/p＞＜p＞It’s probably for the best that the Golden Fleece isn’t a pool table kinda place. It’s the oldest pub in town, built sometime just before the turn of the twentieth century, and the only technology in here is wired to the cash registers, the jukebox blasting Aerosmith like the 90s have risen from the dead, and a massive TV hoisted behind the bar. The bathrooms are hooked up to electricity, too, but that’s to be expected. The rest of the place is a waltz back in time, complete with tapered candles, which sit dead-center on every table, and equally fancy sconces decorating the walls.＜/p＞＜p＞I’ve missed the quirkiness of the place.＜/p＞＜p＞I sigh into my Guinness. Fifteen years is a heck of a long time to be away.＜/p＞＜p＞Catching my eye, Shawn drops his hands to the bar, a damp rag slung over one shoulder. “Never thought I’d see the day when Aspen Levi walked back on in here.”＜/p＞＜p＞Might not look like it, I want to boast, but I’m in celebration mode. Celebrating my return to the motherland, as well as my new teaching＜/p＞＜p＞job at London High. History isn’t my passionーnot like football. Which is why I’m even more thrilled to take over as the new head coach for the Wildcats. The football field is my home away from home. Whistles blowing, refs charging up and down the turf, the sound of bulky pads colliding as players make contact, like modern-day knights hurtling toward victory.＜/p＞＜p＞I graze my thumb over the football’s cracked leather laces and breathe through the lingering grief. I’m here because Dad’s not. Not at the Golden Fleece, not at London High, not anywhere. He’d be disappointed to learn about the events that led to my return to London. His baby girl was strong, a badass on and off the field, intensely focusedーand I’m . . . divorced, for one. An expert at putting on a brave face and a cheerful smile, for another. Unfortunately, I haven’t felt like a badass in years.＜/p＞＜p＞Beneath the football, my knee jiggles up and down. Dad may have passed away three years ago, but it’s Mom who wore me down eventually and convinced me to come home.＜/p＞＜p＞You’re not happy in Pittsburgh, she told me almost weekly.＜/p＞＜p＞Rick’s a good-for-nothing cheating bastard.＜/p＞＜p＞We need you, Aspen. I need you.＜/p＞＜p＞Mom hasn’t asked me for anything since I dropped out of Boston College in my senior year. Back when I was the first female kicker in all of the NCAA. Back when the NFLーfor the first time in historyーwas considering drafting a woman to the professional level.＜/p＞＜p＞All my life, my parents urged me to rock the boat.＜/p＞＜p＞Push at sexist, big boys’ club sensibilities.＜/p＞＜p＞Show the world at large that just because I was born with a vagina, that didn’t mean I couldn’t make my mark on a league dominated by cocks and balls. It was nothing but an unlikely pipe dream.＜/p＞＜p＞Let’s put it this way: I had the world at my fingertips, and I lost it all.＜/p＞＜p＞No, that’s a lieーI gave it away.＜/p＞＜p＞And all because I met an older man with a slick smile and a magic penis. Scratch that. There’d been nothing remotely magical about Rick’s dick. Just because he was packing below the belt didn’t mean he knew how to use it, but I’d been young and inexperienced and na?ve enough to fall for false promises of love and happily-ever-afters.＜/p＞＜p＞Stop ruminating and count your lucky stars.＜/p＞＜p＞Idly plucking at the laces, knowing that Shawn’s waiting for me to get my shit together and answer, I count out three doses of luck:＜/p＞＜p＞I’m grateful for having a job that pays me to do what I love.＜/p＞＜p＞I’m grateful for divorcing Rick the Prick a year agoーfinally.＜/p＞＜p＞I’m grateful to Mom, who ditched her knitting club tonight to watch Topher so I can socialize with people over the age of thirty.＜/p＞＜p＞Actually, the last one came from Topher himself, my fifteen-year-old-son, who shouldered on up to me, rapped his knuckles on my forehead, and confessed, “I think you need to adult, Ma. I love you, but maybe I couldーI don’t knowーplay video games tonight without you hovering over my shoulder?”＜/p＞＜p＞I think I’m failing at this adulting thing.＜/p＞＜p＞The locals are keeping their distance, Shawn is eyeing me like he can’t trust me worth a damn, and at this point in the night, I’ve shared more＜/p＞＜p＞intellectual conversation with my Guinness than with anyone in possession of a heartbeat.＜/p＞＜p＞“Couldn’t imagine staying away forever,” I lie to Shawn, hoping he won’t hear the tipsy tremor in my voice. I balance the tattered football on my bent knee, wishing the Golden Fleece rocked more than candlelight so that I might be able to make out my dad’s signature scrawled across the textured leather. I miss you, Dad. Miss his hearty laugh and the crazy knack he had for staring at a group of players and bringing out the best in every one of them. Holding this football, the same one he caught in the end zone back in 1982, when he played for the Pats, makes me feel a little less lonely.＜/p＞＜p＞When Shawn’s silence stretches on uncomfortably, I paste on a happy-go-lucky grin. “Oh, c’mon. I know you secretly missed me. No point in denying it.”＜/p＞＜p＞Shawn’s expression radiates all kinds of in-your-dreams vibes. “The last time you stepped foot in here, I served you your first legal drink.”＜/p＞＜p＞Wiggling my brows to tease him, I give my pint glass a little swirl. Tap it down on the bar in an informal toast. “If I remember correctly, it wasn’t the first drink you sent my way. How old was I the first time? Eighteen? Nineteen?”＜/p＞＜p＞Finally, the tightness around his eyes softens. Internally I rejoice when he lets out his familiar, raspy chuckle. “You ever tell that to your mom and I’ll be dead by morning.”＜/p＞＜p＞“If she has it her way, you’ll be dead no matter what.”＜/p＞＜p＞“Nah.” He cups the back of his neck with a weathered hand, then swipes the rag from his shoulder. “What? Gossip doesn’t reach as far as Pittsburgh?” With gusto, he wipes down the already polished mahogany bar. “Your mom and I have set aside our differences. I’m nearin’ seventy, Levi. You think I care about what happened fifty years ago?”＜/p＞＜p＞I blink. Stare down into my dark stout and wonder if I’m already drunk enough to be hearing things that can’t possibly be true. Then I blink again for good measure because the up and down motion of my head is not doing me any favors.＜/p＞＜p＞At thirty-seven, you’d think I’d be a pro at managing my liquor intake, but drinking has never really been my thing.＜/p＞＜p＞I press a stabilizing hand to the bar and pray for soberness. “You really want me to believe that Mom forgave you for dumping her at Homecoming?” Everyone knows the story here in London. And if you don’t＜/p＞＜p＞know the story of how Shawn Jensen declared his love for someone other than my mother at 1971’s Homecomingーthat “someone” being her ex-best friendーthen you’re one lucky son of a gun. I’ve heard it retold so many times I can recite the night’s itinerary down to the second. Last I heard, Mom went so far as to ban Miranda Lee from joining her popular knitting club a few years back. Some gossip reaches Pittsburgh, it seems. “She hates you, Shawn.”＜/p＞＜p＞The muted light emphasizes the silver strands in Shawn’s surprisingly thick head of hair as he snags a cocktail glass from where it hangs upside down from a rack. “Hate’s a strong word.”＜/p＞＜p＞Is it?＜/p＞＜p＞I have a whole list of things that I hate. Pickles. The band Journey. Drivers who don’t know how to navigate a four-way intersection. Ex-husbands named Rick.＜/p＞＜p＞“Has she baked you her famous casserole pie yet?” I ask, swishing the beer in my glass before taking another heavy gulp. Mom is an absolute sweetheart, but apologies aren’t really her thing. She prefers to gloss over I’m sorry with homemade casserole and a good amount of booze.＜/p＞＜p＞Shawn’s bushy brows knit together. “Ca画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	667円
Ruined Prince: A Russian Mafia Romance【電子書籍】[ AKASH HOSSAIN ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞Everything was about to crumble around me. My whole life, right on the verge of burning to ashes. But for one blissful instant, I thought I was going to get out of there.＜/p＞＜p＞It didn’t take long to see how utterly wrong I was.＜/p＞＜p＞That heartbreak won’t come for a few hours, though. Right now, I’m busy staring at the letter in my hand like it’s the best damned thing ever put to paper.＜/p＞＜p＞Congratulations, Lily Benedetti, it begins. You have been accepted to the Marcus Institute for Vocal Arts at Julliard.＜/p＞＜p＞I read it again and again, still waiting for it to truly sink in. I’ve been accepted to Julliard. As in THE Julliard. The best musical university in the country. Maybe even the whole world.＜/p＞＜p＞Andーthis part bears repeatingーit’s in New York City. As in THE New York City. A kajillion miles away from anyone who shares the last name that has haunted me my entire life.＜/p＞＜p＞I’m bursting with a million emotions at once. It isn’t just the pride of knowing Julliard only accepts eight percent of its applicants and I’m now one of the elite chosen few. Or that merely the name of the university on a r?sum? opens doors like nothing else.＜/p＞＜p＞No, it’s mostly because my soon-to-be home is half a country away from the Benedetti mafia’s stomping grounds. If I had my way, it would be on the other side of the planet.＜/p＞＜p＞But this is good.＜/p＞＜p＞This is a start.＜/p＞＜p＞This is enough.＜/p＞＜p＞New York. I can already smell the fall breeze rushing down Fifth Avenue. Can already see all the sights in all the seasons: Central Park blooming with greenery in the summer, Rockefeller Center lit up like a constellation at Christmas, Times Square crowded to the gills as the ball drops at midnight on New Year’s Eve.＜/p＞＜p＞And the shopping. Oh God, the shopping. Vibrations of happiness shoot through me.＜/p＞＜p＞New York has everything I’ve ever wanted. The school of my dreamsーa place that will make me a superstar singerーand freedom, and adventure.＜/p＞＜p＞Maybe even love.＜/p＞＜p＞I’d picked out a college boyfriend a long time agoーin my imagination, that is. He’ll be artistic. Gorgeous. Sensitive. And so in love with me that it will drip from every poem he writes and every portrait of us he paints to hang in his loft, where we’ll spend our weekends in bed reading and talking and… you know, everything else one does in bed.＜/p＞＜p＞We’ll be invited to the best parties and know the coolest people. We’ll sip lattes at the campus coffee shop and make love until the sun comes up over the skyscrapers.＜/p＞＜p＞My heart does a tango behind my breastbone every time I close my eyes and picture my future. It’s how I know this is the right thing.＜/p＞＜p＞I look around my bedroom. Not much to miss here. It hasn’t been redecorated in years, though it’s still kind of grand and showy with its crystal chandeliersーthree of them in a line hanging from the vaulted＜/p＞＜p＞ceilingーplush snow-white carpet, and ice-blue paint with glitter on the wall.＜/p＞＜p＞Mama was in her winter wonderland stage of decorating when I was twelve and she changed out my princess bedroom set for something more “grown-up.” I’ve always hated it. Wanted to burn it all down and start fresh, to make it my own.＜/p＞＜p＞But now? There’s no need to redo.＜/p＞＜p＞I’ll be leaving it all behind so, so soon.＜/p＞＜p＞There’s so much to do before I turn my back on Chicago forever. Packing, preparing, buying books and clothes and all the things I’ll need in Manhattan.＜/p＞＜p＞Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life. I can’t freaking wait.＜/p＞＜p＞Right now is bedtime, though. I’m exhaustedーhappy-exhausted, but exhausted nonethelessーfrom daydreaming all evening, ever since the letter arrived. I slip into bed, pull my plush comforter over my shoulders, and twist around until I’m comfortable.＜/p＞＜p＞Which, of course, is when my bedroom door bursts open.＜/p＞＜p＞Leo, my arrogant asshole of an older brother and the man responsible for roughly fifty percent of the danger in my life, barges in.＜/p＞＜p＞“Get up,” he barks.＜/p＞＜p＞His tone pisses me off immediately. “Screw you,” I snap. “Get out of here.”＜/p＞＜p＞He never comes into my room or speaks to me unless it somehow benefits him. That should’ve been my first clue.＜/p＞＜p＞But I’m still buzzing on Julliard joy, so I don’t take heed the way I should have.＜/p＞＜p＞Strike one, Lily.＜/p＞＜p＞Instead, I snuggle deeper into the blanket and brush a finger against the letter I just tucked under my pillow for safekeeping.＜/p＞＜p＞That doesn’t deter him. He strides over to the edge of the bed, grips my blanket, and tears it away in one swift motion.＜/p＞＜p＞“It wasn’t a question,” he snarls. “I said, get the fuck up and get dressed.” He gives my flannel pajamas a scowl. “And do something with your face. Cover all that pimply shit on your forehead.”＜/p＞＜p＞He clearly missed Be-Nice-To-Your-Baby-Sister Day at Big Brother School.＜/p＞＜p＞He missed Basic Human Decency Day, too, I think.＜/p＞＜p＞Unfortunately for Leo, I’m not in the mood to let the prick ruin my happy mood. “Thanks but no thanks,” I tell him. “Now get out.”＜/p＞＜p＞When I sit up to retake the corner of my blanket, he yanks me out of bed by my elbow and shoves me toward the bathroom. I stumble into the wall and smack my skull with a surprised cry.＜/p＞＜p＞He grimaces. “You’re so pathetic. I can’t even decideー”＜/p＞＜p＞As I open my mouth to retort, he rears back his hand. I flinch and snap my jaw shut.＜/p＞＜p＞Leo nods, smugly satisfied. “That’s what I thought. Now, get fucking dressed and put some makeup on. Father wants to see us.”＜/p＞＜p＞I bury a sigh behind a cough and move a little faster, heading to the dresser for a pair of yoga pants. But he snatches those out of my hands, too.＜/p＞＜p＞“What the hell, Leo?”＜/p＞＜p＞“No. No. No. For fuck’s sake, try dressing like you have a little class.” Instead of waiting for me, he goes to the closet and tugs a dress from the hanger.＜/p＞＜p＞I laugh out loud when I see what he’s chosen. It’s a nightclub dress. A little black dress. A look-at-me-shaking-it-on-the-dancefloor dress.＜/p＞＜p＞By definition, very much not classy.＜/p＞＜p＞“Seriously?” I ask. “Unless we’re going to Club Ten, silver sequins and spaghetti straps with a skirt that barely covers the curve of my ass is inappropriate.”＜/p＞＜p＞“Just put the fucking thing on and get ready. He’s waiting.”＜/p＞＜p＞Leo’s impatience would normally be comical, especially because the glower reddening his eyes and hardening his lips into a tight little line makes it look like he smoked a joint.＜/p＞＜p＞But it’s late, and I’m not in the mood for him to treat me this way.＜/p＞＜p＞“Fine,” I snap. “You want the dress? I’ll wear the stupid dress. But get out of here so I can get dressed without you perving all over me.”＜/p＞＜p＞This time, it’s me doing the shoving. Not that it does much good. At five feet tall in heels and a hundred pounds after a big meal, I’m not exactly Hercules. Leo could overpower me with his pinky finger.＜/p＞＜p＞He shoots me another withering look, then stalks out, yanking my door shut behind him.＜/p＞＜p＞If it wasn’t for whatever this meeting is with Papa, I would’ve crawled back into bed and let Leo wither on the vine for as long as possible. But then we’d have to go through the whole thing again and again until my brother gets his way.＜/p＞＜p＞Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Leo is an asshole, but he’s a stubborn one.＜/p＞＜p＞So instead of bitching or crawling back into bed, I do as I’m toldーthough only because Papa is every bit as bad as Leo when he comes to getting what he wants, if not a thousand times worse.＜/p＞＜p＞As I wiggle into the dress, my mind is racing. What could be so important at midnight that I need a party dress and caked-on makeup to accommodate? I’m not sure. But if Leo is this riled up already, it doesn’t portend anything good.＜/p＞＜p＞I shudder and hurry up. The sooner I get started, this sooner all this will be over with and I can go back to fantasizing. Back to my New York loft, my New York boyfriend, my New York life.＜/p＞＜p＞Before I manage my last swipe of mascara, Leo is back in the doorway, still scowling. He jerks the wand from my hand, shoves it into the tube, and tosses the whole thing into the sink.＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	667円
Brutal Defender: A Dark Mafia Romance【電子書籍】[ AKASH HOSSAIN ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞＜strong＞Arianna Marino＜/strong＞＜/p＞＜p＞＜em＞＜strong＞Several Hours Earlier＜/strong＞＜/em＞＜/p＞＜p＞My pap?'s lecture is getting old. It's the same as always. His voice＜/p＞＜p＞booms, "Arianna, you're out of control. I've told you to stay away from that Brambilla goon. You've done nothing but defy me."＜/p＞＜p＞I roll my eyes. I remind him, "I'm almost thirty, Pap?. You can't rule my every move."＜/p＞＜p＞His dark eyes turn to slits. In a steady, cold tone, he declares, "I won't have you put yourself or this family at risk anymore. I love you, Arianna, and I'll miss you, but your actions leave me no choice."＜/p＞＜p＞Men of all shapes and sizes do everything my pap? says. I grew up seeing the fear in their eyes. While he tells me nothing about his business, I'm not naive. He's the head of the most prominent Italian crime family in New York. But to me, he's my pap?. And I'm not a little girl anymore. I don't have a problem sticking up for myself. Plus, I'm sick of him and my brothers always telling me what I can and can't do. I get no access to any part of the family business, yet my brothers do. My pap? won't let me work, insists I stay under his roof guarded until I marry, and tries to control every aspect of my life.＜/p＞＜p＞I'm over this song and dance. He's threatened me too many times. I defiantly fume, "You'll miss me? What are you going to do? Lock me up downstairs with your enemies?"＜/p＞＜p＞My pap?'s cheeks turn red with anger. It's something I shouldn't know about but do. Our house has a secret door leading to an underground dungeon. Years ago, I saw my brother, Massimo, open it. He didn't know I was watching, and after a few minutes, I followed him. Men screaming and the smell of decay filled the air. Rats ran everywhere. When my brother turned and saw me, he took me directly to my pap? who lectured me on staying away from his business.＜/p＞＜p＞Pap? rises and goes to the bar in the corner of the room. He pours a glass of scotch then stares out the window into the backyard of his estate. Snow covers the ground, and ice wraps around tree limbs. He takes several sips and lowers his voice. "You're moving to Chicago."＜/p＞＜p＞I sarcastically laugh. New York is my home. Pap? may have us living in the suburbs, but I love everything about the city and go there almost every day. If it weren't for my pap? insisting I stay in his home until I marry, I'd get an apartment in Manhattan. I explode, "When Hell freezes over."＜/p＞＜p＞He spins. The expression on his face sends a chill down my spine. It's a look I rarely see. When it appears on his face, he'll do anything to get his way. He's as stubborn as I am. "I've given you lots of options of men to marry. These were good men who would keep you safe and allow you to have Italian babies. You didn't want any of them. Now, they have all found other wives. And instead of choosing them, you run to that Brambilla thug."＜/p＞＜p＞"He's not a thug!" I rant. Sure, Donato has a dangerous vibe, but so does every man I've ever grown up around, including my brothers and Pap?.＜/p＞＜p＞Pap? slams his hand on the desk. "You don't know anything about what he's involved in."＜/p＞＜p＞"Then why don't you tell me?"＜/p＞＜p＞He throws his hands in the air. "I don't need to tell you. I am your pap?. My word should be enough."＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	667円
Dark Legacy (Kingdom of Blood 2)【電子書籍】[ AKASH HOSSAIN ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞don’t know how long I’ve been awake in this cell. Maybe a few hours, maybe a day.＜/p＞＜p＞Maybe longer.＜/p＞＜p＞All I know is that it’s been long enough for the too-loud noises and the＜/p＞＜p＞horror of knowing what I’ve become to drive me up the wallsーliterally. Vampire strength and speed lets me do a lot more than my human self used to be able to, like run up walls and touch the ceiling, although unfortunately, I still can’t rip apart two-inch thick iron bars. The dungeon cell I’m being held in was clearly designed to contain vampires, given how heavily it’s constructed. The walls and door are reinforced to allow them to withstand pretty much anything I try to do to them without giving way even an inch.＜/p＞＜p＞It’s fucking infuriating.＜/p＞＜p＞I wish like hell that I could tear the door off its goddamn hinges. I would love to break out of here and rip Prince Bastian’s traitorous head off his shouldersーor save my older brother Nathan, depending on the minute. My moods shift and undulate just like my senses, swinging wildly from one extreme to another and back, as if I’m going through a second puberty, except with occasional bouts of deafness and hyper-hearing. My ears are foggy and muffled right now, but I can feel the flip coming, like barometric pressure rising before a summer storm. It’s as if I’m underwater, barreling toward the surface.＜/p＞＜p＞When the switch finally comes, my ears pop, and I gasp with the overwhelming sensation of hearing what feels like everything.＜/p＞＜p＞Clenching my jaw, I try to resist the urge to clap my hands over my ears. Motherfucker, that really hurts. Every noise my newly sensitive ears pick up seems as loud as all the others, creating a violent cacophony in my mind. Vampires must learn to filter some of the noise out somehow, or they’d all go insane from the sheer amount of sensory input. I haven’t figured out how to do that yet.＜/p＞＜p＞Then again, most vamps have centuries to learn the ropes, don’t they? I’ve only had a few hours… or days.＜/p＞＜p＞I wince as a violent wave of depression washes over me. I made peace with my own mortality a long, long time ago. Making peace with immortality is going to be a hell of a lot harderーespecially since I’m trapped in a cell designed to hold even powerful vampires, with no hope of getting out anytime soon.＜/p＞＜p＞Noises assault my senses, and I try to separate the different strings of sensory input from each other, untangling the jumbled mess in my head. I hear the slow and steady drip of water from somewhere, the hum of cars on the streets of Baltimore far above me, rats squeaking and darting around in the sewers, and… footsteps.＜/p＞＜p＞Someone is coming.＜/p＞＜p＞I smell a vampire almost as soon as I pick up the sound of the footfalls, and a furious snarl tears from my throat. The first thing my new sense of smell taught me was that vampires smell almost humanーif the human had been hidden inside a wax doll, cleaned thoroughly, and then left to collect dust for a decade or so inside of an active surgical bay. Humans smell alive. Dirty and sweaty and grimy and emotional, but alive.＜/p＞＜p＞Vampires smell like the darkness of death hidden beneath luxury and a false veneer of courtly civility.＜/p＞＜p＞They smell like knockoff life, a cheap imitation of the real thing. “Darcy?” A quiet voice asks tentatively, rising up over the other sounds＜/p＞＜p＞that still beat at my ears.＜/p＞＜p＞Connor.＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	667円
Kissing the Gentleman (Put A Ring On It Book 04)【電子書籍】[ AKASH HOSSAIN ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞On a scale of one to ten, how much holiday spirit are you feeling?＜/p＞＜p＞Atthe unexpected question from my boss, Savannah Rose, I glance from my calendar to where she’s camped out at her own desk. “What do you think?” I ask, gesturing at the bookcase behind me with a thumb over my shoulder. A bookcase whichーfull trans-parency hereーlooks like the Hallmark Channel vomited Christmas all over it. Reflective tinsel is draped along the frame while Nut-cracker figurines sit on bookstacks . . . to say nothing of the life-size, plastic Santa Claus.＜/p＞＜p＞Is he creepy? Yes.＜/p＞＜p＞Have I figured out where to put him, so that he won’t terrify my coworkers? Almost. Maybe . . . okay, not at all.＜/p＞＜p＞This is what happens when you drink too much champagne at the Christmas-party-turned-utter-disaster. One minute you’re at home, nursing your emotional wounds with some online retail ther-apy, and the next thing you know, you’ve ordered the one version of Santa Claus guaranteed to spark fear into even the darkest of souls.＜/p＞＜p＞Turning him around to face the wall hasn’t helped.＜/p＞＜p＞“Is he creeping you out?” I lower my voice like there’s a very real chance that Santa will come to life, resurrected like a zombie out of Dawn of the Dead, and strike me down with a fireplace poker he stole from someone’s chimney. “Because I’m having buyer’s regret.”＜/p＞＜p＞Savannah’s dark gaze flicks to Santa’s backside, which is only marginally less traumatizing than his face. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, but . . . Georgie, he has horns, like Krampus.” She pauses, her eyes retreating from Santa back to me with unnerved ur-gency. “What in the world were you thinking?”＜/p＞＜p＞I barely refrain from letting my forehead fall to my desk in defeat. “I wasn’t thinking. Which, on that note, here’s your civil service re-minder to not ever let me drink so much champagne again. Tell that to your other half, too,” I mutter darkly. “He was all, you look like you need a pick-me-up, Georgie, and within an hour, I’m the drunkest one at the Christmas party and bad decisions are on the horizon.”＜/p＞＜p＞Owen Harvey is a sweetheart. A tatted, Prince of Darkness sweetheart who wanted to ease my embarrassment when he saw me ask the one and only Jean Dufrene for a dance. Never mind that no one was dancing. Never mind that this is Jean-frigging-DufreneーCa-jun, blue-eyed, the ultimate hot shot executive chefーwho’s barely noticed I’m alive for the three years that we’ve both worked at the Edgar Rose Restaurant Group.＜/p＞＜p＞I mean, he’s noticed meーin the way that humans notice pesky flies before swatting them into oblivionーbut me as a woman? Me as a potential love interest? Yeah, that’s never been the nature of our relationship.＜/p＞＜p＞Lucky me.＜/p＞＜p＞“Champagne gets to the best of us, but . . .” Savannah trails off, issuing a kind smile that soothes my ruffled feathers. After her stint＜/p＞＜p＞as bachelorette on the hottest new dating show, Put A Ring On It, earlier this year, my boss should be bitter. Angry. That’s simply not reality. Despite being ripped to shreds by the media, Savannah is still so goodーeven when I’ve brought in a terrifying Santa Claus, simply because I couldn’t bear to be alone with the damn thing in my apartment.＜/p＞＜p＞Boss of the year, right there.＜/p＞＜p＞Though I’m sure Owen is mostly responsible for her ever-present glow. Savannah pre-Owen Harvey was sweet and ambitious; Savan-nah post-and-forever Owen Harvey is thriving and so giddy that I often want to do the whole office a favor by telling the lovebirds to get a room.＜/p＞＜p＞Their affection is nauseating.＜/p＞＜p＞It’s also so lovely that I can’t help but feel the tiniest bit envious.＜/p＞＜p＞I’m a romantic at heart, sue me.＜/p＞＜p＞“But?” I echo, rolling my wrist in a let-me-have-it gesture. “Just tell me.”＜/p＞＜p＞“Which part?”＜/p＞＜p＞There are two parts? I cast a furtive glance at my empty coffee cup, immediately regretting draining the first round like it was a do-or-die-trying rodeo. “Maybe start with the one that, you know, is least likely to make me curl up in the fetal position.”＜/p＞＜p＞Tilting her head to the side, Savannah’s long, dark hair drapes over one shoulder. “Santa has to go, Georgie. I had a meeting with Jorge yesterday, and he shrieked when he walked in.”＜/p＞＜p＞At the mention of ERRG’s social media manager freaking out, I wince. “It’s bad but not that bad.” Even as I say the words, I don’t exactly turn around. Seen it, been there, regretted every moment. When Savannah slips me a side-eye, I lift my hands, palms out. “But I’ll get rid of himーSanta, I mean, not Jorge.” I have no idea where I’ll be＜/p＞＜p＞storing a five-foot-ten plastic Santa Claus, but my dad didn’t raise me to be a quitter. In the dumpster, you go. “Next thing,” I tell her, “lay it on me.”＜/p＞＜p＞“Right. So.” Savannah shifts her weight, fingers drumming a rhythmless beat on her desk. “Considering your, um, shall we say inebriation last weekendー”＜/p＞＜p＞“Let’s forget it happened,” I interject, sliding down in my seat like that’ll be enough to strip the memories from my brain. It won’t, ever. Because they have imprinted. “What happened at the Christmas party, stays at the Christmas party.”＜/p＞＜p＞“ーthis is going to be an awkward assignment, but I don’t have time to tackle it all myself which meansー”＜/p＞＜p＞“No.”＜/p＞＜p＞Savannah blinks. “I haven’t even told you what I need.”＜/p＞＜p＞I’ve worked for ERRG long enough to know when she’s hem-ming and hawing. As the former VP, Savannah never dabbled in bullshit. Now, as the head director of ERRG’s food tours and histori-cal exhibits, all of which relate to the Rose family’s impact on New Orleans cuisine over the last century, it’s nearly impossible to get her out of the proverbial trench. But when it comes to delivering news that she knows will be upsetting, Savannah’s sweetheart tendencies tend to spike.＜/p＞＜p＞She’s a mama bear without kids, unless you count Pablo, her gray-and-white spotted cat, who’s earned the well-appointed nick-name of The Antichrist. Currently, the little demon is eyeing Santa like they might be kindred spirits.＜/p＞＜p＞Without preamble, I lean forward to whisper-hiss, “There’s no coming back from the Christmas party, Sav. Not today, not tomor-row, not ever.”＜/p＞＜p＞“Oh, come on. You’re being dramatic.”＜/p＞＜p＞“Am I?” I point to the cell phone that’s positioned by her elbow. “Call Owen right now. Unlike you, he saw the whole thing go down ーliterally.”＜/p＞＜p＞Clearly not needing any excuse to call her fianc?, Savannah picks up the phone and taps the screen. A second later, the callback is ring-ing on speakerphone and Owen’s New Orleans drawl is rumbling through our office. “Hey, sweetheart,” he greets, his voice gruff but underlined with unmistakable warmth, “missed me already?”＜/p＞＜p＞Savannah’s expression practically melts as she shuffles the phone closer, like that alone will close the distance between her and Inked on Bourbon, the tattoo shop Owen owns down in the French Quar-ter. “When don’t I? But I’m actually calling because Georgie and I are having a debate.”＜/p＞＜p＞Not quite a debate when there’s no mistaking my enthusiastic fist colliding with Jean’s groin. I clear my throat. “Your fianc?e doesn’t believe me when I say that there’s not any coming back from what happened with Jean.”＜/p＞＜p＞There’s a small pause on the other end of the line, and then, “Let me put it this way, Georgie, you make me look like Patrick Swayze.”＜/p＞＜p＞Everyone knows Owen can’t dance worth a damn.＜/p＞＜p＞In defeat, my forehead collides with my calendar, the paper stick-ing to my skin. “Back in high school, the musical theater director cast me as a tree so I wouldn’t mess up the choreography. Let me repeat: I was a tree. I barely scraped by, and that was with me completely sober.”＜/p＞＜p＞“Wait,” Savannah demands, clearly shocked, “is that why Jean was still limping after the dessert course?”＜/p＞＜p＞I nod into my calendar, misery personified. “Right in the balls, y’all. Right. In. the. Balls. He yelped. Martha over in tech stared at＜/p＞＜p＞me like I was a sugarplum fairy on speed. And I wished the ground would just open up and swallow me whole.”＜/p＞＜p＞Owen’s failed attempt at swallowing his laughter rings loud and true. “Is it too soon to make a Nutcracker joke?”＜/p＞＜p＞“Too soon,” I mutter forlornly at the same time Savannah vows, “Never.”＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	667円
Hold Me Today (Put A Ring On It Book 1)【電子書籍】[ AKASH HOSSAIN ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞Breaking hearts isn’t in my DNA.＜/p＞＜p＞Call me a pussy, a romantic, a believer in the unicorn of all emotionsーtrue loveーbut I want the real deal. I crave what my parents have shared for thirty-something years; what my younger sister＜/p＞＜p＞Effie has with her wife; what I almost had six years ago before my ex-fianc?e dumped me at the altar with a half-hiccupped, “I’m in love with someone else.”＜/p＞＜p＞That someone else turned out to be her I-wear-pocket-protectors-like-a-douchebag boss, the bastard.＜/p＞＜p＞So, yeah, I’m talking about the white-picket-fence, make-love-even-when-you-haven’t-showered happily-ever-after. The kind that sinks into your bones and accelerates your heart rate and turns your hands into a clammy mess.＜/p＞＜p＞My hands aren’t clammy now. They’re ice cold despite the balmy weather and the fact that I’m wearing a Hawaiian T-shirt the color of puke and a pair of too-tight board shorts that hug my crotch the same incessant way my grandmother anxiously squeezes her stress-relief balls.＜/p＞＜p＞“Women will love that bulge,” the wardrobe crew assured me with a pat on the shoulder.＜/p＞＜p＞The women might, but there’s a good chance my ability to reproduce will die today.＜/p＞＜p＞“Gam?to.”＜/p＞＜p＞The Greek curse for “fuck” flies off my tongue, as it has since my teenage years when my Greek mother warned me and Effie against using English profanity in public. I’ve never been more grateful for speaking two languages than when I showed up on set for Put A Ring On It, a reality show that might as well be the budget-cut edition of the infamous The Bachelor franchise.＜/p＞＜p＞See: the Hawaiian T-shirt and board-shorts bit.＜/p＞＜p＞I shift my hips and pray for relief.＜/p＞＜p＞The small, velvet box burns in the front pocket of my shorts as I face down the production crew. Louder, in perfectly clear English, I grind out, “I can’t do this.”＜/p＞＜p＞“Buck up, Stamos,” rumbles Joe, the show’s director. He side-eyes me like I’m a caged animal clawing for escape, then casually claps me on the back like we’re best buds. I’d have to be tone-deaf to miss his hearty, fuck-you laugh. Prick. If I wasn’t determined to leave this island uncuffed, I’d throw a fist right at his pretty-boy, Hollywood face. “It’s only pre-engagement jitters. You love her, dontcha?”＜/p＞＜p＞It was easy to think so in the midst of orchestrated dinner dates and cameras being shoved into my face and producers pointedly asking, “How do you feel? You love her yet?”＜/p＞＜p＞I haven’t answered “yes” once. And now that it’s down to me and one other contestant, the questions have narrowed down to the most vital: “How are you gonna propose?” It’s all I can do not to ditch the wannabe-surfer outfit and make a break for it, away from the white, sandy beach where Savannah Rose is waiting.＜/p＞＜p＞She deserves better than what I can offer: nothing but a gut-deep awareness that marrying her would be the equivalent of getting hitched to myself. I like meーhell, I even enjoy my own company most daysーbut there’s a reason why my mom thanked the Good Lord that I didn’t turn out to be a twin, like the doctor first predicted. Thirty-two years later, she’s still pinching my cheek and praising her lucky stars like she won the MegaBucks.＜/p＞＜p＞So, yeah, me and Savannah? Despite the high hopes I had coming onto the show, we turned out to be the same blend of black and white, equally balanced in temperament, opinions, and our shared preference for the introverted, hermit life.＜/p＞＜p＞Savannah Rose is lovely, but I just don’t love her.＜/p＞＜p＞I open my mouth, ready to flay Joe alive with the reminder that, according to the contract I signed before embarking on this shit show of a journey, I can leave whenever the hell I want. Including on the last day of production, when I and the other runner-up are expected to get down on bended knee and propose.＜/p＞＜p＞Joe beats me to the punch. “Listen, Nick. Fact is, you gotta do it now, ’kay?” He thrusts a finger at the narrow cobblestoned pathway that leads from the cottage I’ve been sharing with my fellow contestant, Dominic DaSilva, to the beach. “Right there. She’s waiting for you right down there. You gonna disappoint her? You gonna let insecurities cloud your judgment? You said you loved her only last night!”＜/p＞＜p＞The hell I did.＜/p＞＜p＞“Joe,” I grunt, shoving one hand into my pocket to grab the engagement-ring box, “I’m not doing it. Not for you, not for TV, and definitely not for Savannah Rose. She came here lookin’ for love and I’m not going to be that asshole who lies to her for the sake of good ratings, you hear me?”＜/p＞＜p＞I slam the velvet box down on the entryway table to my right.＜/p＞＜p＞And, because the gravitational pull of the universe is a conniving son of a gun, the box skids as I let go, turning over onto its side and falling from the table.＜/p＞＜p＞Crashing to the floor.＜/p＞＜p＞Cracking wide open.＜/p＞＜p＞The diamond ring, which probably costs more than my restoration business is worth back in Boston, pops out from the box. It circles on the tile floor, once, twice, before teetering flat on its side. Sardonically, I lift a brow. “If that isn’t an ironic show of how this is about to go down, then I don’t know what is.”＜/p＞＜p＞Joe’s knees pop as he snatches the ring off the floor and shoves it back into the box. With a speed I don’t anticipate, he crams the whole thing into the pocket of my shorts and comes mighty damn close to fondling the family jewels.＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	667円
Twisted Kingdom A Dark High School Bully Romance【電子書籍】[ AKASH HOSSAIN ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞AIDEN＜/p＞＜p＞Past＜/p＞＜p＞We will always be together. You’re the reason I’m alive, Aiden. My mother’s voice drifts in my head like warmth in the middle of the cold.＜/p＞＜p＞The shackle rattles and protests as I pull my legs to my chest. The freezing floor sends icy bursts through my entire body, but I don’t have the energy to stand up.＜/p＞＜p＞My toes are numb. The welts on my back burn. The red marks left by my ankle cuff have deepened to purple.＜/p＞＜p＞I think that’s bad.＜/p＞＜p＞What seems like hours pass, and I still don’t have the energy to stand up, let alone take a closer look at my wound. My upper body slumps to the cold floor. The ground smells like the stables at my father’s friend’s house.＜/p＞＜p＞My teeth chatter and I bite my lip several times, trying to stop it.＜/p＞＜p＞“Mum…” I whisper in the pitch-black room.＜/p＞＜p＞She said we have a special mother-son bond, and she can feel my pain. My mother knows the day I’ll fall sick before I even wake up. She must be feeling my pain now. She must be crying.＜/p＞＜p＞I don’t like it when Mum cries, but I want her to find me.＜/p＞＜p＞This place isn’t like any I’ve been in before. This place hurts.＜/p＞＜p＞My stomach growls like an animal.＜/p＞＜p＞I press my hand to it, but that doesn’t quiet the sound. If anything, it turns louder and higher as if taunting me.＜/p＞＜p＞I lick my dry, cracked lips and stare at the empty bottle of water at my feet. It’s the only thing I’ve had since being separated from Xander and Cole.＜/p＞＜p＞Are they hungry as well? Were they also hurt by the red woman?＜/p＞＜p＞I don’t know how much time I’ve spent in this dark, dirty place, but it’s been long enough that my stomach has been growling non-stop for what feels like hours.＜/p＞＜p＞If I don’t eat soon, I won't have the strength to open my eyes, let alone stand up and search for a way out.＜/p＞＜p＞Mum is waiting for me.＜/p＞＜p＞She becomes sad when I'm not with her, and I hate it when Mum is sad. The door squeaks as it cracks open. I jerk up and flinch when the hard＜/p＞＜p＞stone wall cuts into my bruised back, but that’s the least of my worries.＜/p＞＜p＞The red woman is back.＜/p＞＜p＞The chain lies all around me. I grasp the cuff and pull with the little energy I have left. I know it won’t come off. I know I’m just scraping my skin, but it’s all I can do.＜/p＞＜p＞If I don’t get out of this, the red woman will hurt me again.＜/p＞＜p＞She’ll beat me.＜/p＞＜p＞She’ll make my skin burn.＜/p＞＜p＞Soft light appears in the otherwise dark room, blinding me. I squint as the echo of footsteps comes closer.＜/p＞＜p＞There’s no clicking of the red woman's high heels.＜/p＞＜p＞My breathing slows down a notch and my grip loosens from around the cuff.＜/p＞＜p＞With the light between us, a peaceful face comes into view. A white halo surrounds her, complete with her white cotton dress and bunny shoes.＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	399円
Sweet Retribution : Ruthless Games 2【電子書籍】[ AKASH HOSSAIN ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞Dead eyes.＜/p＞＜p＞Wide open and lifeless, staring endlessly without seeing anything. That’s the first thing I see when I blink my own eyes open. The sunlight＜/p＞＜p＞seems too bright, and my eyelids scratch against my eyes as if there are a million grains of sand trapped behind them. A dull, throbbing ache fills my head, and I can’t keep my lids open for more than a second.＜/p＞＜p＞Blackness tugs at me, and part of me wants to sink back down into its depths.＜/p＞＜p＞It’s peaceful there.＜/p＞＜p＞Quiet.＜/p＞＜p＞Nothing hurts.＜/p＞＜p＞But I can’t, and there’s a reason I can’t. Something I need to see or do.＜/p＞＜p＞Something important.＜/p＞＜p＞I can’t remember what it is. I don’t know where I am, or why dead eyes stare at me from just a few inches in front of my face.＜/p＞＜p＞Blink.＜/p＞＜p＞The scratch of my eyelids makes me wince, and I try to keep my eyes open longer this time, but a heavy weight tugs them closed.＜/p＞＜p＞Blink.＜/p＞＜p＞The eyes in front of me never blink. I can’t keep my eyes open, and those will never close again.＜/p＞＜p＞Blink.＜/p＞＜p＞The blackness in my head is fading away, consciousness slowly returning. Memories start to filter through my head, and with each flashing＜/p＞＜p＞image that plays in my mind’s eye, my heartbeat begins to pound harder and harder.＜/p＞＜p＞My abduction. My rescue. Marcus, Theo, and Ryland explaining to me that they’re part of a deadly game.＜/p＞＜p＞We left the safe house. We were going to go somewhere else. And then…＜/p＞＜p＞A car collided with ours. They boxed us in, shooting at usーDominic Roth and Carson Purcell. We split up, Theo and Ryland staying behind and Marcus pulling me through the network of warehouses at a dead sprint.＜/p＞＜p＞Marcus.＜/p＞＜p＞Oh god. Marcus.＜/p＞＜p＞We were cornered by Carson. He hunted us down and had a gun trained on Marcus. I tried to move, tried to stop it, to do something… but Marcus didn’t let me.＜/p＞＜p＞My body jerks as if it can still feel the impact of the three bullets as they＜/p＞＜p＞hit his body. His arms were wrapped so tightly around me that I could feel＜/p＞＜p＞each one hit him.＜/p＞＜p＞Then we fell.＜/p＞＜p＞Blood. There was so much blood.＜/p＞＜p＞Fear floods me like a shot of adrenaline, forcing my mind fully awake before it’s ready. My eyelids fly open again, and it feels like shards of glass prick my eyeballs as too much light fills my vision. I don’t let them close though, sucking in a gasping breath as I refocus on the dead eyes in front of me, forcing myself to really look at them.＜/p＞＜p＞Blue.＜/p＞＜p＞Just blue.＜/p＞＜p＞A sort of slate blue, darkened by death.＜/p＞＜p＞No brown anywhere. Both irises are the same color, unlike the earth and air of Marcus’s right eye.＜/p＞＜p＞It’s not him.＜/p＞＜p＞Relief makes my limbs feel cool and tingly, and I draw in another shaking breath. Now that I’ve been shocked awake, I feel like I might vomit at any second. My head hurts so bad that it’s hard to seeーa strange halo of light seems to surround everything I look at, and when I roll over onto my side, the world spins around me.＜/p＞＜p＞The man lying beside me has short ash-brown hair. His slightly parted lips reveal a small gap between his front teeth, which are stained red with＜/p＞＜p＞blood.＜/p＞＜p＞Carson.＜/p＞＜p＞He’s… dead?＜/p＞＜p＞I force myself to sit up, but the second I’m upright, my body rebels. I shift onto my hand and knees, balanced precariously as I retch painfully. I’m covered in blood, and the smell of it is overtaking my senses, coppery and sharp. I’ve been lying in a pool of it, and it soaks my clothes and sticks to my skin, matting my hair as it thickens and dries.＜/p＞＜p＞“Marcus…”＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	667円
Empire of Sin An Enemies to Lovers Romance【電子書籍】[ AKASH HOSSAIN ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞Tonight, I’m going to fuck someone. I don’t care who.＜/p＞＜p＞I don’t care where.＜/p＞＜p＞I just need to cross it off my bucket list before I disappear.＜/p＞＜p＞Good girls like me don’t think about fucking or doing it with a complete stranger. We’re taught to always keep our legs closed, our hearts sealed, and our brains dormant.＜/p＞＜p＞Oh, and we don’t get to curse.＜/p＞＜p＞We don’t get to live either.＜/p＞＜p＞We’re just valuable stock to be used when the opportunity arises.＜/p＞＜p＞Good girls like me definitely don’t dress in provocative red dresses that show more cleavage than it hides. We’re not even allowed to buy such things.＜/p＞＜p＞But I did. Secretly. When no one was looking.＜/p＞＜p＞I’m wearing it now, the red dress that falls amply to mid-thigh and bares half of my back. I improvised and used a dainty chain to attach the straps together at the back and hooking my lucky butterfly motif to itーthe only thing my mom left me before she also disappeared to a different place than the one I’ll be going to.＜/p＞＜p＞With each move, I feel the soothing coldness of the pendent against my bare back. Normal people hate the cold, but I find solace in it. It probably has to do with my Russian genes. Although I was born in the States and have lived here my entire life, my origins will never change.＜/p＞＜p＞I wasn’t even allowed to adopt the normal American lifestyle.＜/p＞＜p＞Education? Homeschooled. Fun? Security hazard. Friends? What are those?＜/p＞＜p＞Clubs and bars? Yeah, they’re not an option.＜/p＞＜p＞So the fact that I’m in a bar is a miracle that should be engraved in history. It’s called Black Moon and is situated at the end of a backstreet in New Jersey.＜/p＞＜p＞It took me so much effort to leave home and come here, which is why my trip has got to bring results.＜/p＞＜p＞Truth is, I’m absolutely not an expert on these things, but I did my research and also hacked into their system to get an idea of their security measures and the people who come here.＜/p＞＜p＞Judging by the trouble I found with their firewalls, I’d say they’re good enough.＜/p＞＜p＞The place has a classy, comfortable atmosphere that I’m drawn to the moment I walk in. The decor is black and dark brown and the lights are dim, giving the patrons privacy and a sense of anonymity.＜/p＞＜p＞Perfect for me.＜/p＞＜p＞Still, I feel eyes on me. Lots of them. They’re digging into my skull and trying to pull out my true identityーthe one that should, under no circumstances, be revealed.＜/p＞＜p＞My hand turns clammy and I bring it up, resting it on my chest to calm both its shaking and my heartbeat.＜/p＞＜p＞It’s all in your head, Ana. It’s not real.＜/p＞＜p＞With a deep breath, I make my way through the tables and try not to lose the confidence I’ve been building for days and planned for weeks.＜/p＞＜p＞I’m a planner that way. Nothing ever happens without a plan. Not even the small details as to which bar I’ll go to.＜/p＞＜p＞Since Black Moon is a high-end bar, I came a bit early so that I can get in quickly.＜/p＞＜p＞I climb onto one of the chairs and sit at the bar, in direct view of the bartender, whose name tag reads Simon. Curly hair falls over his forehead and he’s wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. When he flashes me a charming grin, I think I have my pick for the night.＜/p＞＜p＞A small wave of relief floods me. I don’t have to gather more courage and look for someone else.＜/p＞＜p＞“What can I get you, miss?”＜/p＞＜p＞“Vodka martini. Make it a double, please.” I try to sound flirty, but I have no clue if it works. I really suck at this.＜/p＞＜p＞But it’s not like I’ve had plenty of opportunities before. This is my first time in a bar. In fact, it’s the first time I’ve been outside of the house alone.＜/p＞＜p＞This night is a first for everything.＜/p＞＜p＞“Right away.” He gets busy and speaks to me over his shoulder, “You like your vodka, I assume?”＜/p＞＜p＞“A little.”＜/p＞＜p＞Okay, that was a white lie. I never thought I would fit the stereotype of how every Russian loves vodka, but when we celebrated my eighteenth birthday two years ago, I was told I needed to drink it and ever since then, I refuse to consume any other type of alcohol.＜/p＞＜p＞A smirk lifts Simon’s lips as if he’s amused by how much I like vodka. “Are you new around here?”＜/p＞＜p＞Shit. Shit. He figured me out, didn’t he? Everyone does. It doesn’t matter if I chose a place out of state or that I faked a driver’s license and my age.＜/p＞＜p＞One look at me and people know who I am and where I came from. No amount of makeup and red dresses will change what I am.＜/p＞＜p＞Who I am.＜/p＞＜p＞Maybe I should abort this before it gets too complicated. Maybe I can drive back earlier than planned, andー＜/p＞＜p＞I shake my head internally. I worked so hard for this freedom. I’m not going to give it all up now.＜/p＞＜p＞So I wear the best smile I can offer as I stare at the bartender for a brief second before I cut off eye contact. “Why are you asking?”＜/p＞＜p＞“I just haven’t seen you around, is all.”＜/p＞＜p＞My muscles relax when a shaky breath whooshes out of me.＜/p＞＜p＞See? It’s nothing. I’m safe here. I made sure no one from my circle comes to this place, after all.＜/p＞＜p＞He places the martini in front of me. “Let me know if you need anything else.”＜/p＞＜p＞“Thanks, Simon.”＜/p＞＜p＞He grins and I know he’s about to strike up a conversation. I can see it in the ease in his eyes and the way his body is leaning toward me.＜/p＞＜p＞Learning body language is a given in the world that I’ve lived in all my life. I might be insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but I recognize these things.＜/p＞＜p＞Simon opens his mouth to speak, but he’s interrupted when an intruder slides onto the stool right beside me, even though the rest of the chairs are empty.＜/p＞＜p＞Oh, please.＜/p＞＜p＞It took me a lot of planning to get to a stage where my brain is willing to take things to the next level. I don’t do well with people around.＜/p＞＜p＞They have eyes. And most of them are judgy and critical and are always out to get me.＜/p＞＜p＞Okay, maybe they aren’t, but I can’t really rationalize that. Because I feel their eyes again. A pair or maybe two.＜/p＞＜p＞And they’re watching me. Closely. Intently. As if they can rip open my fa?ade and peek inside the shell I’ve surrounded myself with.＜/p＞＜p＞“Macallan, neat.”＜/p＞＜p＞My fingers tighten around the martini, then I empty half of it in one go. That deep, low voice with the calm undertone is the reason I feel the watchful eyes. I can sense it deep in my heart that’s never steered me wrong.＜/p＞＜p＞Is it one of the bodyguards I overlooked in my plan? No, that’s not possible. They think I’m sick and sleeping in my room so no one will disturb me until the morning.＜/p＞＜p＞Using my hair as a curtain, I tilt my head to the side to get a better look. I try not to be obvious about it, try to pretend my legs aren’t shaking and my flight mode isn’t kicking me to move my butt and bolt out of here.＜/p＞＜p＞The man who’s sitting beside me has a presence as deep as his voice.＜/p＞＜p＞There’s an unnerving quality to him, even though he’s just sitting there.＜/p＞＜p＞His physical appearance has something to do with it. He’s handsome, shockingly so. Unfairly so. Probably the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen ーand that includes actors and super models. He has the type of physical perfection that makes you stop and stare.＜/p＞＜p＞As if that’s not enough, he’s tall, his legs look long even when sitting, and his shoulders are so broad that the jacket of his Armani suit molds to his developed muscles.＜/p＞＜p＞Muscles that could easily overpower me if he chooses to. I shouldn’t be thinking about that option. Hell, I should be apprehensive about it, considering all the men in my life, but I can’t overlook the fact that this particular man could and would overpower me in a heartbeat.＜/p＞＜p＞A sudden flush of heat coats my thighs and I have to clench them together to chase away the sensation. I need to focus on something else, anything but the liquid fire that I shouldn’t be feeling.＜/p＞＜p＞But I’m slammed with something worse.＜/p＞＜p＞His face.＜/p＞＜p＞It’s a force that hits you out of nowhere. There’s a hardness in it, a zing of electricity that’s about to electrocute whoever is near.＜/p＞＜p＞A volcano that’s on the verge of erupting.＜/p＞＜p＞I’ve never found male beauty to be dangerous, and that’s saying something considering who I am and whom I encounter on a daily basis.＜/p＞＜p＞But his is different. It’s not supposed to be dangerous, I realize. His beauty isn’t there to teach a lesson or bash someone’s head in. He’s wearing a designer suit and is drinking Macallan for God’s sake, which means he’s some sort of a businessman. His thick Swiss watch that’s strapped around his wrist must’ve cost a small fortune. It’s luxurious.＜/p＞＜p＞He is luxurious. And not in a dangerous way like all the men in my life. Instead, it’s in a powerful, neat way. Like his whiskey. So why is there＜/p＞＜p＞danger emanating from him?＜/p＞＜p＞His hair is light, but not as light as my platinum blonde that’s almost white. His is somewhat chestnut, somewhat sandy, and it’s styled, which showcases his forehead and killer cheekbones. He has a straight nose and a square jaw that gives him a sharp type of masculinity.＜/p＞＜p＞Then I find it.＜/p＞＜p＞The reason I associated him with the people from my life.＜/p＞＜p＞It’s his eyes.＜/p＞＜p＞They’re greenish with a go画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	399円
Verdadero buen amor【電子書籍】[ AKASH HOSSAIN ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞Noticias de ?ltima hora esta noche desde el pueblo natal de la estrella del country Holly Wix, Gold Haven, Kentucky. A pesar de ser un peque?o pueblo de s?lo dos mil habitantes, se ha visto asolado por la epidemia de metanfetamina que ha afectado a gran parte de la Am?rica rural. Fuentes de Gold Haven informan de la explosi?n de una tercera casa de metanfetamina en cuesti?n de semanas, y nos dicen que ?sta se encuentra cerca de una residencia que Wix posee y que todav?a visita en ocasiones.＜/p＞＜p＞A?n m?s devastador para el pueblo, se ha descubierto un cuerpo no identificado en su interior. Todav?a no se ha revelado ning?n nombre, a la espera de que se notifique a la familia.＜/p＞＜p＞Tendremos m?s informaci?n a medida que se desarrolle la historia. Estamos enviando a nuestra mejor reportera de investigaci?n, Memphis Lockwood, a Gold Haven para buscar respuestas. Mant?ngase en sinton?a para sus informes que vienen en vivo desde Kentucky.＜/p＞＜p＞Banner＜/p＞＜p＞En el momento en que mi vuelo aterriza en Nueva York, me encuentro ansioso. Es dif?cil creer que s?lo hace un par de semanas que sal? de aqu?. La ciudad que ha sido mi hogar ya me resulta extra?a.＜/p＞＜p＞Mientras subo a un taxi en el aeropuerto JFK, digo la direcci?n de mi antiguo edificio. Me estremezco cuando el conductor frena de golpe, toca el claxon y grita por la ventanilla a un Mercedes que le ha cortado el paso. No es nada parecido a conducir por el ?nico sem?foro en rojo intermitente de Gold Haven. La gente y los ciclistas que se cruzan en la calle obligan a otra parada brusca, lo que me molesta.＜/p＞＜p＞Tras el nauseabundo viaje de una hora, me encuentro pregunt?ndome por qu? siempre he considerado Manhattan como la ?nica ciudad realmente habitable del planeta. Quiz? porque es lo ?nico que he conocido realmente, pero Logan me ha mostrado una perspectiva completamente diferente. Puede que Nueva York sea el centro del mundo en muchos sentidos, pero ya no es el centro de mi mundo.＜/p＞＜p＞Cuando me bajo del taxi frente al edificio, las cejas del portero se disparan.＜/p＞＜p＞"Se?orita Regent. La hemos echado de menos. Espero que le vaya bien".＜/p＞＜p＞"Gracias, Joe. Me va muy bien".＜/p＞＜p＞Las l?neas alrededor de sus ojos se profundizan mientras su r?pida sonrisa se apaga. "Supongo que te has enterado del fallecimiento de la se?ora Frances".＜/p＞＜p＞"Por eso estoy aqu?". Las l?grimas me queman los ojos, pero las alejo con un parpadeo. "Siempre le has gustado. Puede que no actuara como tal, pero lo hac?a. ?Necesitas que＜/p＞＜p＞?Necesitas que llame al apartamento, o te est?n esperando?"＜/p＞＜p＞Sacudo la cabeza. "Sof?a me pidi? que viniera. Le envi? un mensaje de texto cuando ven?a hacia aqu?".＜/p＞＜p＞Mira hacia el ascensor. "Ya conoces el camino entonces".＜/p＞＜p＞Con una peque?a sonrisa, arrastro mi maleta hacia las brillantes puertas doradas y pulso el bot?n de llamada. Cuando por fin llega, entro y selecciono mi antigua planta.＜/p＞＜p＞Cuando las puertas se cierran, un hombre empuja su malet?n entre ellas para detenerlas. T?pico de Nueva York. ?l y una mujer se apresuran a entrar. Se acerca a la botonera, pero retira la mano casi inmediatamente sin pulsar ninguno.＜/p＞＜p＞?Son los nuevos inquilinos de mi antiguo apartamento? Mi pregunta se responde en unos momentos cuando el hombre habla.＜/p＞＜p＞"Deben estar ayudando a limpiar el apartamento del otro lado del pasillo. Hemos o?do que la anciana ha fallecido".＜/p＞＜p＞Me da miedo la forma en que se refiere a Myrna, aunque yo mismo la he llamado "la vieja" muchas veces. Pero a?n as?, eso fue despu?s de a?os de tener el privilegio de conocerla. Esta gente no sabe una mierda.＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	399円
Savage Don A Dark Mafia Romance【電子書籍】[ AKASH HOSSAIN ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞Present day…＜/p＞＜p＞Every time a set of headlights crawls over my back, I have to fight off an instinct to freeze.＜/p＞＜p＞No one is following you, Francesca.＜/p＞＜p＞Still, I’m nothing if not diligent. It’s how I’ve gotten away with this for so long now.＜/p＞＜p＞Quickening my pace, I scurry down the sidewalk. The corner I need to turn down is just up ahead.＜/p＞＜p＞Before I get too close, though, I give a quick glance over my shoulder.＜/p＞＜p＞It doesn’t look like I’m being followed.＜/p＞＜p＞Still got it.＜/p＞＜p＞No one gives the Italian mob the slip better than I do. But that just may be because no one has as much experience with it as I do.＜/p＞＜p＞I’ve been sneaking around behind my father’s back ever since I was a little girl. But up until last year, I had never gone far.＜/p＞＜p＞Then, I secretly enrolled in Branksome University. Now, three nights a week, I take to the shadows and risk my life just to get a taste of normalcy.＜/p＞＜p＞Another wave of yellow headlights crash over my back, and I instinctively hold my books tighter to my chest.＜/p＞＜p＞My escape earlier tonight was easy. Almost too easy.＜/p＞＜p＞The guards that patrol my floor might as well have been on painkillers, they were so out of itーor maybe they’re just disgruntled. I’ve overheard＜/p＞＜p＞rumors that some of them aren’t getting paid on time.＜/p＞＜p＞A cold shiver tingles up my spine as I turn down a well-worn alleyway that leads directly onto the main campus road.＜/p＞＜p＞All of my life, I’ve had people trying to keep me locked in my gilded cage. I know what it’s like to be watched, to be followed. But for the last year and a half, I’ve made sure that I don’t step on campus until I know that I’m completely alone.＜/p＞＜p＞“Fran!”＜/p＞＜p＞The second I stumble out of the alleyway, I hear a familiar, welcoming voice.＜/p＞＜p＞It comes from beneath the central courtyards most famous sycamore tree. I can’t see beneath the shadows, but I already know who it is.＜/p＞＜p＞The light of a single burning cigarette takes its last breath before being thrown onto the ground, where it’s promptly extinguished beneath the heel of a white converse sneaker.＜/p＞＜p＞“Hey, Janice,” I smile, shaking off the last bits of primal fear that always seem to haunt me when I’m on the run.＜/p＞＜p＞This is my safe place. Even if Branksome isn’t a normal school, when I’m here, I’m a normal student.＜/p＞＜p＞“You’re early today,” she teases, looking down at her phone. The blue light floats up from the screen, illuminating her soft country features.＜/p＞＜p＞“I’d say I’m exactly on time,” I smile back, checking my own phone to make sure I’m not actually late.＜/p＞＜p＞Nope. It’s 7:45pm. Class is at eight.＜/p＞＜p＞“Exactly on time is early for you,” Janice giggles. “You must be nervous about the pop quiz.”＜/p＞＜p＞“Pop quiz?!” If I thought the fear of getting caught sneaking around by one of my father’s men was bad, it’s nothing compared to the chill that runs down my spine at the devastating news.＜/p＞＜p＞“You didn’t hear the rumor?” Janice asks, raising her dark auburn eyebrow in my direction. “Apparently, someone overheard Professor Goldin on the phone during office hours. Another pop quiz. The man sure does love his surprise tests.”＜/p＞＜p＞It feels like I’m back on the other side of that alleyway again, being battered by the irregular waves of headlightsーany one of which could be someone who wants to drag me back to my gilded cage, back to hell.＜/p＞＜p＞“Why didn’t I see anyone complain about this guy on RateMyProfessor?” I sigh, exacerbated. “This is a history course. We’re supposed to get like two big essays and an exam at the end of the termー wait, don’t we have an exam in like two weeks? Why would we have another pop quiz on top of it?”＜/p＞＜p＞“Some say he’s losing his mind…” Janice teases.＜/p＞＜p＞“I’m going to lose my mind.”＜/p＞＜p＞“Aren’t you all caught up on your reading?” No.＜/p＞＜p＞“Just because I read something doesn’t mean I’ll remember it.”＜/p＞＜p＞“Of course you will. Someone as smart as youーyou’ll be fine, girl.” “No, you’ll be fine,” I remind her. “You love these types of things.” “Love is a strong word,” Janice shrugs, before stopping in her tracks.＜/p＞＜p＞“But I do enjoy them…” her words trail off as she reaches into her backpack.＜/p＞＜p＞“What’s the matter?”＜/p＞＜p＞Janice pulls out her cell phone again. It’s ringing.＜/p＞＜p＞“Mikey,” she sighs.＜/p＞＜p＞Her boyfriend.＜/p＞＜p＞“Are things still… rocky between the two of you?” “It’s complicated.”＜/p＞＜p＞“Boys always are.” Not that I would know.＜/p＞＜p＞“Ain’t that the truth,” Janice chuckles, her southern twang coming out in full force. “I’ll answer him this timeーif only to make sure the dolt knows not to call me during class. Would you mind running ahead and getting us some good seats?”＜/p＞＜p＞“Yeah, sure thing,” I nod, understanding the implication. Janice wants some privacy. Things still aren’t going well between her and Mikey. That’s too bad. He seems like a decent dude.＜/p＞＜p＞I continue onward as Janice drops back.＜/p＞＜p＞Up ahead, I can see the building where our lecture hall is. Soft orange light pulses out from the windows on the top floors, making it look like the comfiest place in the worldーsuch a far cry from what it costs me to get here.＜/p＞＜p＞I could practically run to the building, but I’m at least self-conscious enough to know how much of a dork that would make me look like.＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	399円
Rohosso Adhar Dark of mystery【電子書籍】[ Muhammad Bablu ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞??? ??? ??? ??? ????? ???? ????????? ????? ????? ?? ??? ?????? ???? ???? ???? ??????? ????? ???????? ??? ?????? ?????? ? ????? ??????????- ????? ?????? ???? ??? ???? ?? ???? ?? ??? ????? ???? ???? ????????? ??? ??? ???? ???? ????? ???? ?????? ?? ??????? ????,?????????? ? ?????????? ???????? ????????? ???? ????? ??? ???????? ??? ???? ????? ?? ????? ??? ??? ????? ??? ???? ??????? ???? ??????? ?? ??????? ???? ??? ???? ???? ???? ?? ? ??? ???? ???? ???? ?????? ????? ????? ?????? ???? ???? ???? ????? ?????????? ????? ??????? ???????? ? ?????????＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	535円
Fuzzy Decision Analysis: Multi Attribute Decision Making Approach【電子書籍】[ Farhad Hosseinzadeh Lotfi ] 楽天Kobo電子書籍ストア	＜p＞Authored by a leading expert in the field, this book introduces an innovative methodology that harnesses the power of fuzzy logic to enhance decision-making in multi-attribute scenarios. In a world of complexity and uncertainty, effective decision-making is paramount. Springer proudly presents a cutting-edge publication that revolutionizes decision analysis: "Fuzzy Decision Analysis: Multi-attribute Decision-Making Approach." This book stands at the forefront of decision analysis, introducing the integration of fuzzy logic into multi-attribute decision-making. It is a transformative journey into the realm of advanced decision analysis. It book not only equips you with the knowledge to comprehend the theoretical underpinnings but also empowers you to apply these insights in practical scenarios. This book serves as your indispensable companion. Its comprehensive coverage serves as a beacon, guiding you through the intricate maze of fuzzy logic and multi-attribute decision-making, ultimately empowering you to embrace innovation and master the art of making well-informed decisions in an ever-changing world.＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。※切り替わらない場合は、こちらをクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。	19,447円