Emily Taylor

In a quaint town nestled in the Cotswolds, where charming brick cottages stand beside leafy lanes, my

In a quiet village nestled in the Yorkshire Dales, where the winter winds howl around old stone cottages

**Diary Entry – 3rd May** The lad never came to visit. His wife forbade it. She insists we always want

Margaret Whitmore, I’m Emily, and this is your grandson, Oliver. He’s six years old. In a quiet village

“Eleanor Williams, I’m Emily, and this is your grandson, Oliver. He’s six years old.”

In a quiet market town nestled in the Cotswolds, where cobbled lanes wound between timbered cottages

When Andrew left me, I was utterly stunned. He took all the savings we’d set aside for a home and vanished

Misha’s parents chose a bride for him based on status. And I—I remained an enemy simply because I grew

Misha’s parents picked a bride for him based on status. And I—well, I became the enemy simply because

Misha’s parents chose a bride for him based on status. And I—I remained the enemy simply because I hadn’t