Angela Brazil

The Leader of the Lower School by Angela Brazil

Monitress Merle by Angela Brazil

Bosom Friends by Angela Brazil

A Terrible Tomboy by Angela Brazil

The Madcap of the School by Angela Brazil

The Manor House School by Angela Brazil

A Pair of Schoolgirls: A Story of School Days by Angela Brazil

A Patriotic Schoolgirl by Angela Brazil

From the book:There's no doubt about it, we really must economize somehow! sighed Mrs. Woodward helplessly, with her house-keeping book in one hand, and her bank pass-book in the other, and an array of bills spread out on the table in front of her. "Children, do you hear what I say? The war will make a great difference to our income, and we can't - simply can't - go on living in exactly the old way. The sooner we all realize it the better. I wish I knew where to begin." "Might knock off going to church, and save the money we give in collections!" suggested Percy flippantly. "It must tot up to quite a decent sum in the course of a year, not to mention pew rent!" His mother cast a reproachful glance at him. "Now, Percy, do be serious for once! You and Winona are quite old enough to understand business matters. I must discuss them with somebody. As I said before, we shall really have to economize somehow, and the question is where to begin." "I saw some hints in a magazine the other day," volunteered Winona, hunting among a pile of papers, and fishing up a copy of The Housewife's Journal. "Here you are!

From the book:Ingred! Ingred, old girl! I say, Ingred! Wherever have you taken yourself off to? shouted a boyish voice, as its owner, jumping an obstructing gooseberry bush, tore around the corner of the house from the kitchen garden on to the strip of rough lawn that faced the windows. "Hullo! Cuckoo! Coo-ee! In-gred!" "I'm here all the time, so you needn't bawl!" came in resigned tones from under the shade of a large fuchsia. "You're enough to wake the dead, Chumps! What is it you want now! It's too hot to go a walk till after tea. I'm trying to get ten minutes peace and quiet!" Hereward, otherwise "Chumps," put his feet together in the second position, flung out his arms in what was intended to be a graceful attitude, and made a mock bow worthy of the cinema stage. "Have them by all means, Madam!" he replied in mincing accents. "Your humble servant has no wish to disturb your ladyship's elegant repose. He offers a thousand apologies for his unceremonious entrance into your august presence, and implores you to condescend - Ow! Stop it, you brute!"

Lila Richmond has a secret that could destroy her,she's harboring feelings for her stepbrother Ryan Callaway. When her worst nightmare comes true and her old bully Cassandra becomes Ryan's girlfriend, Lila thinks things can't get worse. But she was wrong.Hockey bad boy Derek Stone knows her secret, and he's offering a dangerous deal - fake date him to throw everyone off her trail. But as their pretend romance heats up, Lila discovers that Derek's cold reputation hides something she never expected. Will their fake relationship survive when real feelings get in the way? And what happens when the truth comes out?

I thought having one reckless night of revenge sex with a gorgeous stranger seemed like the perfect way for me to break out of my "good girl" mold. I was wrong. ​I ran before he could even know my name, promising myself it would stay a secret. A mistake buried so deep that neither my overprotective brother nor my boyfriend would ever find out. Then I walked onto campus for my first day of college... and came face to face with the last person I ever wanted to see. The stranger wasn't a stranger after all. He was the star captain of the hockey team and My brother's best friend. In other words...I was fucked. Literally.

The ninety-ninth time Jax Little broke my heart was the last time. We were the golden couple of Northgate High, our future perfectly mapped out for UCLA. But in our senior year, he fell for a new girl, Catalina, and our love story became a sick, exhausting dance of his betrayals and my empty threats to leave. At a graduation party, Catalina "accidentally" pulled me into the pool with her. Jax dove in without a second's hesitation. He swam right past me as I struggled, wrapped his arms around Catalina, and pulled her to safety. As he helped her out to the cheers of his friends, he glanced back at me, my body shivering and my mascara running in black rivers. "Your life isn't my problem anymore," he said, his voice as cold as the water I was drowning in. That night, something inside me finally shattered. I went home, opened my laptop, and clicked the button that confirmed my admission. Not to UCLA with him, but to NYU, an entire country away.

Eighteen days after giving up on Brendan Maynard, Jayde Rosario cut off her waist-length hair and called her father, announcing her decision to move to California and attend UC Berkeley. Her father, surprised, asked about the sudden change, reminding her how she' d always insisted on staying with Brendan. Jayde forced a laugh, revealing the painful truth: Brendan was getting married, and she, his stepsister, could no longer cling to him. That night, she tried to tell Brendan about her college acceptance, but his fiancée, Chloie Ellis, interrupted with a bubbly call, and Brendan' s tender words to Chloie twisted a knife in Jayde' s heart. She remembered how his tenderness used to be hers alone, how he had protected her, and how she had poured out her heart to him in a diary and a love letter, only for him to explode, tearing the letter and yelling, "I'm your brother!" He had stormed out, leaving her to painstakingly tape the shredded pieces back together. Her love, however, didn't die, not even when he brought Chloie home and told her to call her "sister-in-law." Now, she understood. She had to put that fire out herself. She had to dig Brendan out of her heart.

I was cramming formulas for the National Innovators Scholarship exam, our ticket to Caltech' s engineering program. Ethan Hayes, my best friend since kindergarten, and I had dreamed of this for years. We were supposed to be a team. But Ethan wasn't here. He was with Jessi Vance, the new, rebellious girl. I overheard her chilling plan: she wasn't just distracting him; she was sabotaging him, plotting to get him wasted so he'd fail the exam. Naive, I interfered, dragging him back to the exam. He got into Caltech, but Jessi soon died in a drunk driving accident. He twisted it, blaming me. His revenge was meticulous: a framed sexual assault, wiping out my future. The public humiliation, amplified by his powerful family, drove my parents to despair. Their car went off the Blackwood Bridge, a tragic 'accident' . My heart, already fragile, couldn't bear his venomous words. He visited me in my cold cell, holding a newspaper headline of my parents' 'tragic accident.' "This is what you get for ruining my life," he hissed. "You and your family paid for Jessi." The pain, the injustice, consumed me. Then, darkness. My eyes snapped open. I was in my own room, my own bed. The clock read 7 PM, the eve of the exam. I was back. This time, Ethan Hayes could make his own damn choices. I' d protect myself. And above all, my family.

My freshman year at Green Mountain College was supposed to be about freedom. But my mom, Susan, had other plans for her only daughter. She turned my dorm room into a high-tech prison, monitoring every single video call, scrutinizing my bank account, and even tracking my social media DMs "for my safety." It wasn't safety; it was relentless, suffocating surveillance, a gilded cage I desperately wanted to escape. Then came the ultimate college freshman nightmare: my debit card (tied to Mom' s account, of course) got declined at the crowded campus coffee shop. Total humiliation. A kind senior, Liam, stepped in and paid for my coffee and bagel; a simple, unexpected act of grace. But that small kindness triggered a reaction I never anticipated. Hours later, Liam messaged me, sending a screenshot that made my blood run cold. My mother had instantly found his Venmo payment, tracked him on Instagram, and sent him a chilling message, warning him off her "vulnerable" daughter. Liam, understandably, blocked me instantly, dissolving my only new connection. Mom's video call that night wasn't an interrogation; it was an execution, dredging up every past friendship she' d ever destroyed, every connection she' d severed. She wasn't just protective; she was ensuring I was utterly, completely hers. The shame of that night quickly curdled into a burning, unyielding rage. She wasn't trying to keep me safe; she was systematically isolating me, controlling my finances, my friendships, my entire existence. I finally saw the pattern with terrifying clarity, a sinister obsession veiled as maternal love, one that perhaps even connected to my father' s "factory accident" years ago. The thought that she might have secretly engineered my entire life filled me with a chilling dread. I wasn't just terrified anymore. I was done running. If she wanted to monitor my life, I decided to give her something truly alarming to find. I created Ryder Stone, the brooding musician, everything she' d despise. It was time to stop being her puppet. It was time to turn her own controlling surveillance into my weapon, inviting her into a trap she wouldn' t see coming.

"You don't get to hurt me and then make me responsible for how guilty you feel about it." "Friends don't stand next to you, learn everything about you, and then use it to get close to the one person they know matters." Aria thought she knew two things for certain: she was going to graduate with her best friend, Iris, by her side, and she was in love with her boyfriend, Liam. One kiss changed everything. But as the secrets of their "before" come to light, Aria realizes the betrayal didn't start at a party or in a moment of weakness. It started weeks ago, in the conversations she wasn't part of and the moments she wasn't invited to. Now, Aria has to decide if she can find herself again in the wreckage of the people she trusted most-or if some bridges are meant to be burned

It is not to be understood that all statements here made are either ascertained facts or universally admitted conjectures. The introduction is intended merely to put those who are not scholars, and probably have not books of reference at hand, in a position to approach the translation at as little disadvantage as may be. Accordingly, we give the account that commends itself to us, without discussion or reference to authorities. Those who would like a more complete idea of Lucian should read Croiset's Essai sur la vie et les oeuvres de Lucien, on which the first two sections of this introduction are very largely based. The only objections to the book (if they are objections) are that it is in French, and of 400 octavo pages. It is eminently readable. With the exception of a very small number of statements, of which the truth is by no means certain, all that we know of Lucian is derived from his own writings. And any reader who prefers to have his facts at first rather than at second hand can consequently get them by reading certain of his pieces, and making the natural deductions from them. Those that contain biographical matter are, in the order corresponding to the periods of his life on which they throw light, The Vision, Demosthenes, Nigrinus, The Portrait-study and Defence (in which Lucian is Lycinus), The Way to write History, The double ndictment (in which he is The Syrian), The Fisher (Parrhesiades), Swans and Amber, Alexander, Hermotimus_ (Lycinus), Menippus and Icaromenippus (in which Menippus represents him), A literary Prometheus, Herodotus, Zeuxis, Harmonides, The Scythian, The Death of Peregrine, The Book-fancier, Demonax, The Rhetorician's Vade mecum, Dionysus, Heracles, A Slip of the Tongue, Apology for 'The dependent Scholar.'_ Of these The Vision is a direct piece of autobiography; there is intentional but veiled autobiography in several of the other pieces; in others again conclusions can be drawn from comparison of his statements with facts known from external sources. Lucian lived from about 125 to about 200 A.D., under the Roman Emperors Antoninus Pius, M. Aurelius and Lucius Verus, Commodus, and perhaps Pertinax. He was a Syrian, born at Samosata on the Euphrates, of parents to whom it was of importance that he should earn his living without spending much time or money on education. His maternal uncle being a statuary, he was apprenticed to him, having shown an aptitude for modelling in the wax that he surreptitiously scraped from his school writing-tablets. The apprenticeship lasted one day. It is clear that he was impulsive all through life; and when his uncle corrected him with a stick for breaking a piece of marble, he ran off home, disposed already to think he had had enough of statuary. His mother took his part, and he made up his mind by the aid of a vision that came to him the same night.

Kaida thought forever was the deal with her boyfriend, Liam, the captain of the Runners Hockey Team, until he broke up with her and reunited with his childhood lover, who had returned after several years of being away. Heartbroken and angry, Kaida decided to make her ex-boyfriend jealous by kissing her best friend's older brother, Maverick. Unfortunately, she reignited the flame he'd been trying to quench for years. Now, there was no turning back and no quenching the obsessive flame burning inside Maverick for her. After some time, Liam realized he truly loved Kaida and wanted her back, but Maverick wasn't letting her go. Kaida was his now, and he would go to the end of the earth for her sake. What began as revenge against her ex turned into something twisted and dark: something beyond words and certainly beyond obsession.

Thanksgiving weekend was just around the corner, and as an intern ranger, I was preparing for what my supervisor, Mark Thorne, called a "mandatory exploratory survey" to Devil's Gulch. But this seemingly routine assignment was a meticulously planned death trap, set by the man I worked for and the sister I loved. The rock bit into my back, a sharp pain, then nothing as my climbing rope went slack, sabotaged, as I plummeted into the cold darkness of the crevasse. Mark's chilling, empty smile was the last thing I saw above me on the narrow ledge, my sister Emily looking away, silent, complicit, as I fought for air. Killed. By my own supervisor and the only family I had left, betrayed for reasons I couldn't comprehend as my life vanished in an instant. Then I jolted awake, not in a freezing abyss, but in my familiar bunk, the comforting scent of pine from my cheap park-issued mattress filling the air. My heart hammered against my ribs as I touched my face, my arms, realizing there were no broken bones, no blood. The calendar on the wall screamed at me: three days before that fateful Thanksgiving trip to Devil's Gulch. I was alive. It was a memory, vivid, terrifying, but now it was also a warning. A second chance. This time, I wouldn't be the naive one; I would protect myself first, and if I could, protect my sister from him and from herself. I could still stop this. And I would.