Take One More Chance book. Read 15 reviews from the world's largest community for readers. When Naina is set the daunting task of finding her Mr Right, h. Get Free Access To | Take One More Chance By Shriya Garg PDF Now. TAKE ONE MORE CHANCE BY SHRIYA GARG. Download: Take One More Chance By. Get Free Read & Download Files Take One More Chance Shriya Garg PDF. TAKE ONE MORE CHANCE SHRIYA GARG. Download: Take One More Chance.
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Pinoy love stories are oftentimes better told in Filipino rather than in English. I had already found my Basha and I was and still am happily married. I liked the movie because of the John Lloyd and Bea's skillful acting prowess and cutting dialogues.
However, it terms of relatability, I had nothing to put on the table. The issue that Basha has for Popoy is rather silly; it reminded me of Eat, Pray, Love 1 star when Elizabeth Gilbert leaves her husband but she doesn't want to say why.
Basha is better than Elizabeth though because she was able to articulate her feelings of "losing herself" as she follows Popoy's every wish. I mean, if you love someone, why not sacrifice?
If you love someone, you try to make him happy and if you love him, you are happy to see him happy. They will surely tickle your funny bone. The author has penned down the book very well. The lines are short and crisp, with right selection of words. I liked the way she portrayed bonds in the family, of friends.
So, if you are looking for a good weekend read, then this one can be given a shot. S- This could be the next Bollywood venture too!
And a thorough entertainer nevertheless. While the plot was a giveaway right from the blurb, it was interesting to see how the plot panned out.
There is an uncanny pleasure sadistic? Any story around this theme inexplicably cracks me up, and there's no dearth of humor in them either. The world has been very dynamic and the approach to relationships has undergone a huge change, but a section Indian p This one was a couple-hours long read.
The world has been very dynamic and the approach to relationships has undergone a huge change, but a section Indian parents have not moved even a bit from their concerns. And that's nothing short of hilarious. Because it is so painfully real to life, there's some fun involved in casually reading these tales.
But I loved someone else just as fiercely. I loosened my hold on my legs and placed my hand on my stomach. It was still flat, but I had seen the small life inside during the ultrasound.
How could any of them expect me to abort this child? I loved this child already. I had never expected ever to feel this way. It was a dream I had let go of long ago. I wanted this baby. I wanted this child to have a life. A wonderful, full life.
A life with nothing but love and security. My grandmother had been very firm in her belief that abortion was wrong. I had always wondered if she would feel that way if it was me who had accidentally gotten pregnant.
But it had never crossed my mind that I might conceive a child with a man I loved. The fear was there that maybe they were right. But I believed I would. I wanted to love and hold my baby and show that I would do anything for it. I wanted a child of my own.
I wanted it enough to live. I was determined that I could do this. I would do this. I wished Mase understood. I hated seeing the fear flash in his eyes every time he glanced down at my stomach. He was terrified because he loved me. I could do this. From sheer willpower alone, I could have this baby and live.
As if Mase could hear my thoughts, he jumped down off the horse and leveled his gaze on me. Always the concern. I watched as he led the horse back into the barn. We had been out here all morning, and now it was lunchtime. Luckily for me, his thirteen-hundred-square-foot home had two bedrooms.
Since then, it had been silent. Dad had called a few times. Mase wanted to tell Kiro. He was sure Dad could force me to have an abortion. I knew it was pointless. I knew in my heart what I was going to do. No one was going to change that. The one person standing by me in all of this had assured me that she would raise this child and love it as if it were her own.
Maryann Colt was the mother every kid deserved. When I was little and would visit Mase, his mother would make us cookies and take us on picnics. As if I belonged there.
And Maryann knew what it felt like to be a mother. She understood the need in me to protect this baby. She had held my hand when they confirmed that I was inde ed pregnant. She had been happy for me because I was happy. That evening was the first time I had ever heard Mase fight with his mother. Mase had been furious. I knew that Grant would be worse.
I knew better. He still called me every day and left a message. He wanted forgiveness and was possibly ready to take that chance of loving someone with my condition. But now the risk was so much greater. Our chance was over. He was dressed in his faded jeans and a blue plaid shirt. A fine layer of dust covered him from his morning activities, and the cowboy hat on his head was tilted back as he wiped the sweat on his forehead with a towel from his back pocket.
He held out his hand to me. Momma will have lunch on the table by now. She said her guys needed it to keep going hard outside. His stepfather raised beef cattle, and his work was grueling. Mase was only used to training a few horses.
Right now, I wanted him. I wanted to share this with him. To see him smile and hear him laugh. I wanted more than he could give me.