enirock:
How come you still awake? Red wine coming right up.

Most times you wake up and just can't go back to sleep, even after trying hard. Thanks dear.

Khriztarl:
Most times you wake up and just can't go back to sleep, even after trying hard. Thanks dear.

I know the feeling

Wowwww

I love how you put details in your story Millie, like I'm seriously star struck.

Maribelle is definitely goals, now I'm thinking of falling in love too. See how both of them are *sighs*

Elvictor, hope this reaches you well

I'm going to re-read all the updates after this, I had a stupid smile on my face all through the time I was reading. I can't count how many times I grinned and smiled and blushed while I read this.

P.s, I watched the 1995 Jumanji but I still prefer the more recent ones

Lord bless you Millie

aunty Millie you disturbing our head o , is this a fiction or a ... or I forget to drink that thing before reading sha

Khriztarl:
none for me? when enirock bring my meatpie i will not give you.

I don't like meat pie joor. Pizza will be fine. Ann2012 don finish the popcorn but you can still enjoy the ice cream

Khriztarl:
Red wine dear.

You sabi!!!
Pepperoni pizza for you babe

Emex100:
You sabi!!! Pepperoni pizza for you babe

You don't like meatpie? What??

IN MASSIVE ADDY TO MILLIEADEMI. 28th august.

The countdown to Millieademi birthday... In some hours time.

Hi.

Millieademi asked me to post this on her behalf. She's been banned.

Marcus Antonio

I once heard there is nothing more beautiful than a woman who doesn't know she's beautiful. Never believed it till I met Mar. She doesn't have plies of makeup on. She's simply flawless and all natural beauty.

I imagined her a bit taller, but her 5'5 is still cute. She has three holes pierced into each ear (lobes, second lobes and forward helixes. That's what she called them), and she is currently wearing three studs and two threader earrings. A bit raw, but still sexy. Her straight brows are perfectly plucked and a coat of what I'm guessing is Vaseline's Rosy lips therapy or some other lip balm is on her plump and wide lips.

She's fairer than I imagined. She's not exactly fair, more like melted caramel.

For those who aren't familiar with caramel, her skin's like the color of Alpenliebe.

Just as brown. Just as glossy.

And the flint coloured, monoshouldered, short flare dress she has on takes the greyish colour from boring office pallette to happy hour material.

The good girl look she has going on with her hair makes me wonder how many layers there are to this girl and how much fun it'll be unraveling them all.

Her straight, waist length weave which is pulled away from her oval face with a rhinestoned, thin, headband flutters in the wind(we are sitting outside the cafe) and the entire moment seems cropped out of an Indian movie.

I can so hear the playback singers humming and the sitars strumming. (I'm holding Tade, my nextdoor neighbor responsible for corrupting me his late night Bollywood binging.)

"You actually look pretty good." I say just as she is about to bite into the sweet and savoury stuffed french toast I ordered for her.(Apparently, she's too indecisive.)

I ordered for this for us because I know just how much she loves meat. Unfortunately, I can't stop counting the number of things wrong with it.

This is why I hate eating out.

"If you insist. Thank you." She says and moans closing her eyes.

How can she not taste the weird tang in the dip?

"I can't remember the last time I had anything that isn't rice or bread or spaghetti.. Iya Michael is anti-foreign food. If I bring home a box of pizza, she'll so it down with her words till I eventually throw it away. I've been too stingy to order from work. Everybody will eat from it and I'd get nothing." She explains as she opens her eyes.

Her mum's a caterer, and has been one for over thirty years. How can she not be open to new meals?

I remember when Mar told me of her catering ambitions which were killed by her mother. She'd tweaked the regular household omi-obe and added iru to the stew. Her mother had beat the Betty Crocker out of her.

"Aren't you eating?" She asks and dabs her mouth with the paper towel. "Or did I gross you out with the moaning thing? I'm sorry. I can't help it. I'm a gastronome."

I smile at her insecurity. She's so cute.

"You didn't gross me out. On the contrary, it's the food." I say right before analyzing the meal, telling her mascarpone suited cream cheese better than ricotta, that the ham used ought to have been steak, and that the custard wasn't properly mixed.

She smiles and says, "I am so never eating with you again."

I shrug and say, "I can't help it. I'm a critic."

"You don't say." She says and picks up her toast again and takes a humongous bite and drawls out a long, intentional moan.

"I love it." She says with her mouth full.

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

AnaGrey**

I can't help the smile on my face as he closes the door to the Bolt taxi. Today's been exhilirating. From the cafe to seeing Tall Girl at the cinema to the arcade and lastly our stop for fro yos and more popcorn.

This meeting had more fun than most dates I've been on. Leo's such a gentleman, he didn't let us go Dutch and my vex money's still intact.

"Until next time Ana Grey." He says.

"I will be waiting, Mark Anthony." I coo in my best Italian accent.

"I want to eat you up when you sound like that."

Oh!

Is this still playful flirting or is he serious?

"Can we leave?" The irritated, Bolt driver calls and I want to stab him with the heel of my stiletto.

Don't ruin this for me.

"Wait," I grit out, "I will still pay your hundred naira waiting fee, so chill out."

Leo laughs and I turn back to him.

"You're so crazy."

I grin like a fool and say, "Takes one to know one."

About a minute of silence goes and we just stare at each other, smiling.

"When will I see you again?" He asks and his hand reaches into the vehicle and tucks a stray strand of hair away.

I always thought the move so corny and overused but you can't imagined how my blood is rushing and my heart is fluttering like a bird trying to escape a hunter.

"I don't know. When do you want to see me again?" I say, hoping the vibes I'm picking up are real.

He shrugs.

"I'm free next weekend. How about you come over and I show you what a real, sweet and savoury french toast tastes like." He drawls with his hand lingering on my bare, forward helix.

My breath catches, and for no reason heat pulls in my lower belly.

He smirks and I know he heard me.

Unable to speak, I simply nod.

"Saturday, it is then, Bella." He calls and just as I am about to protest, his hand drops to my lips and skims over my bottom lip.

A shiver shakes me over and I look at his hand and then at him.

"You had sugar grains on your lip." He says slowly. He pulls his thumb into his mouth and says, "Delicious."

Oh my God!

"I have to go, Leo." Something pushes me to say.

"Bye, peaches." He says and pulls his hand out of the vehicle.

The driver starts the car and I wonder where that nickname came from.

"Bye." I wheeze and then clear my throat.

He waves as the driver pulls away, but I'm too dumbstruck to wave back.

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

Marcus Antonio

I set all the ingredients I'll need to whip up the French toast I promised her, and a little something extra. The white chocolate cheesecake with white brandy sauce I made as dessert is chilling in the fridge. Mar says she loves white chocolate but hates brown chocolate. First I've ever heard off. Her quirks are a bit unusual.

Like how she can't stand ice cream, but loves frozen yoghurt, or how she does like Alpenliebe but hates caramel popcorn.

She's paradoxical. But I like it.

Someone knocks on the door and I yell, "Come in," just I remember I haven't defrosted the turkey sausage links yet.

What was I thinking?

Oh yeah, my mind's been on whether I'd be able to finally feel the plushness of Maribelle's full, plush lips with mine.

Apparently, her lips are naturally punch coloured and what she had on that day was a coat of Shea butter. She says it softens the lips. My thumb can testify to that.

I'm not sure if she heard me.

I should have gone to get the door like the gentleman my mother raised, but I really have to get the sausage out of the freezer.

I grab the pack, and set it on the counter, and bolt out of the kitchen to find her standing in the middle of my living room.

She's in a dropped waisted, A-line, black, floor length skirt and a pink, high necked crop top. The gap between her top and her skirt has her pierced belly button showing. Lines of beads are on each wrist.

She never mentioned liking bracelets.

She gives me a smile and clings tighter to her crossbody bag.

"How are you doing?" She asks as walks towards me and I catch glimpse of twin thigh high slits in front of her skirt.

"Great. You?" I ask.

"Okay."

"Hope you didn't have trouble finding here."

She shakes her head and drops her black bag onto my sofa.

"I'm ready for the French toast you promised." She says with grin.

An hour and half later, four servings of French toast a la Leonard and two servings of chicken adobo and boiled rice are ready and I learnt the bellyring is only magnetic.

Her mother threatened to kill her if she got any more piercings.

Thirty minutes later, we are making out on the couch.

Fast? Yeah.

Reckless? Yeah.

Regret it? Hell no.

I knew I couldn't have been the only one feeling the sparks between us. And Maribelle's ready to pursue this.

P.S. She came on to me.

Tade once said there's a certain sex appeal in a man who can cook. Today, I saw it play out in three-d. The sultry looks Maribelle passed my way in the kitchen wouldn't even be missed by the blind. Her intense stare and her flirtatious lip biting weren't missed by me either.

Her moans fan the flame of lust in me and I can't help but wonder, if she moans this loud while we're just kissing, what's going to happen when….

Are we really doing that today?

Should I stop it?

Or should I try to remember where I hid my stash of condoms?

My hands move from her waist to her skirted thighs. I just have to find out if her skin there is as smooth as the skin on her arms. I slip my hand through her slit(thank God for them) and feel up her silky smooth thigh.

Check. They are just as smooth.

Maribelle whimpers into my mouth as my hand grazes her thigh. Is she so sensitive?

Dude, you've checked it out. Now, hands off. A voice tells me.

My lustful self moves my hand up her thigh till I'm at the frills of her panty.

F*uck.

Her skin is hot and so smooth. It's like she's hairless and it's so f*ucking amazing.

She pressed into me. Her breasts against my chest, heaving up and down like a bouncing basketball as she pulls away from me to catch her breath. My lips go to her neck and my hand moves slowly under her panty, going inch by inch to test her reaction.

I don't want to come off as too strong. If she isn't ready, I'll end it.

She doesn't protest and I smile against her neck. I cup her a*ss and suck on her neck at the same time. She groans in pleasure. I pull away just to look at her. Her eyes are squeezed shut as though she's concentrating, trying to grasp all the sensations at once.

I press myself against her and her eyes flutter open. Her look of nirvana and ecstasy is replaced with shock and fear as though she realizes something.

She breaks away from me like a trapped rabbit that was just set free.

"I'm sorry. I can't." She says and begins to right her clothes and search for her bag.

"Maribelle, wait." I say and stand, just as she has her bag.

Just because I got a erection doesn't mean we have to have sex.

She turns and looks at me from head to groin.

She gasps in horror and runs out of the house.

What the f*uck was that?

Ohhh....

Ha!!! Anagrey just left my guy high and dry (with a 'boner'). Romance na ... Please Divepen1 kindly help unban our op. Tomorrow is her day and my guess is most of us would want to share our prayers and thoughts with her. Thanks in anticipation.

GodShowmemercy:
Ohhh....

Comman talk it finish...

AnaGrey**

I toss myself on my bed, hating my phobia and cursing Rotimi(Michael's friend) for trying to force my fifteen year old self to give him a Mouth Gig. I'm probably going to be scarred for life and I'll never get married.

So once after the incident with Faramade, I went to see a shrink(not the most pocket friendly decision I've ever made) I thought I was abnormal. It's normal for a girl to get a feel of her boyfriend, especially one she's been dating for four years. But just the thought of that part of Faramade's anatomy had me cringing in fear.

Long story short, the sessions with Doctor Alakija didn't help so much. She was so insistent on talking about my childhood, whereas the only scarring incident happened to me as a teenager. I didn't really get most of the deep mumbo-jumbo she usually rambled about, so after three sessions, I called it quits.

With Leo, I felt good. Really good. And for a second I could have gone all the way with him. Except for I couldn't go all the way with him without…

My mind conjures the heft of his erection against me and my skin crawls.

God, help me.

So you can go fornicating, abi? My church mind says and I sigh.

Maybe it's better this way.

People should try medorthophobia for abstinence. It works like a charm.

I hiss at myself and my stupid subconscious and slip my phone out of my bag.

Nine missed calls.

I can bet they're from Leo.

I can't bring myself to explain my phobias, so I just ignore him. Better he thinks me a weird prude than a girl with a wordy psychological issue.

I tap the chrome app after unlocking my phone. Straight to Nairaland.

No update from YoungSelene. I search for a story with a large amount of views and doesn't have a sexual title or a plus eighteen or plus twenty-one.

I stumble on a story that I've seen on Wattpad. Bringing the Nation's Husband Home. I shrug and decide to read it again.

I'm almost half way through the first post when a call from Leo comes in.

I don't want to block him, yet I don't want to speak to him either. I roll off the bed as the Roar by Katy Perry continues. I strip out of my clothes and leaithe puddle of clothes on the floor. I'm left in my underwear and I stroll to my cupboard and I pull out an oversized sweater I stole from Moses and grab my Spectranet MiFi.

By the time I get back to the bed, the call's ended and there's a text from him.

Maribelle, I'm sorry if I did something wrong, but just pick up the phone. Are you home safe? I'm worried.

I hit reply and type.

Sorry, didn't hear the phone ringing (God please forgive me). I'm home and safe. Thanks for asking.

I hit send and place my phone on airplane mode and turn on the WiFi. I go to WhatsApp and change my Last Seen settings to Nobody.

Maribelle's on ghost mode.

I check a few statuses and make sure to skip his. I already know what's there, anyway. He uploaded it after cooking.

There are pictures of me and him and the food he prepared.

P.S. His french toast beat the cafe's hands down.

I'm smiling at a Maraji skit when a new message notification pops up.

Faramade

Hey babe. Can we talk?

Today must be my unlucky day.

I mute his chat for one year and head to YouTube to watch some Five Minutes Crafts videos.

The im*becile apparently can't take a hint and he voice calls me on WhatsApp.

Can't a girl enjoy her data in peace?

I let the call drop and continue watching more fashion hacks. He calls back again, and I let it drop again.

And he calls back five more times.

At the fifth, I answer and yell, "What?"

"Babe, please."

"I'm not your babe anymore. You had better be calling me to refund the hundred thousand I lent you." I snarl at him.

"Maribelle, please. I'm sorry. It's been almost eight months. Please. What happened between Shola and I will never repeat itself. I'm sorry." He says.

I know just how well it'll repeat itself. I will never be able to give him what he wants.

"Maribelle, please. I miss you."

"Taking care of a baby isn't a cheap as you thought?"

"I've gotten a better job now. With KPMG." He says.

Is that supposed to freak me?

"Then pay me back my money."

"Maribelle-"

"Stop saying my name with that disgusting, filthy, lying trap of yours." I grit and tears sting my eyes.

I loved this guy. I really did and because of my problem, he cheated on me and now, he has a child with another woman.

Somehow, I can't help but feel it's all my fault.

Maybe I shouldn't have pushed him away. Maybe I should just have endured it if he wanted sex that night. Maybe I gave Rotimi some sort of sign that said I wanted his d*ick in my mouth.

I honestly don't know.

Or maybe I'm not destined to have love.

"Please. Can we at least meet and talk?" He says.

"I have nothing to say to you. If you have my money, send it to my account."

"How about I give you in person? At least, you gave me cash. It's only fair I return it in cash." He says.

I really need the money anyway. I want to move out. Mum's nagging is getting too much.

"Fine. Text me when and where." I say and hang up.

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
I'm not sexist (I have six sisters and I'd never have lived this long if I didn't learn to respect women), but I wish our Chef de Cuisine was a man. Chef Lucy's been on mummy duty for every night this week and I'm wondering why I haven't asked to be promoted to Chef de Cuisine.

The saucier passes me a tablespoonful of our house gravy. I taste it and nod at him and he's off to his station. Greg waits on me to approve his selection of wines to be ordered as I vet the menu and confirm the chef's special. Funto, our accountant, is waiting for me to sign the cheque for some orders and Jide and Constance, our potager and legumier, are eyeing each other waiting for me to decide who is right.(They fight a lot and I think it's just sexual tension between them.)

Speaking of sexual tension…

I swarmed with work, but my mind still flits back to Maribelle. It's been two weeks since she ran out of my house like I had EVD. I've tried reaching out to her, but since the text she sent me that she got home safe, I haven't heard anything from her. Even on Nairaland. She's not commented on Love Me Like You Do and the book ended three days ago.

She doesn't pick my calls, answer my messages and it's almost like she dropped off the face of the Earth. I wish I knew the address of her tutorial, so I could go visit her, but I don't.

Then it hits me.

"That's it." I say out loud.

"Chef?" Greg asks. I beam at him and approve the order.

There's only one Savant Polymath Tutorial College in the world (there has to be only one. No two people can be crazy enough to think of that name). I just have to look it up.

I sign the cheque smiling and Funto looks at me warily. That guy is suspicious of everything. I ignore him and turn to the chefs in front of me, and threaten to fire them if they keep up their behaviour.

Constance goes away sulking and cussing Jide. I think I hear her say chupacabra, but I'm not sure.

"Chef Leo, your dad's asking for you." A waiter says as he brings in a tray of dirty dishes. I nod at him and take off my apron, and hang it on the rack and leave the kitchen with my white chef's jacket and my toque blanche

I scan the room and locate my Dad at a table filled with business looking men.

If I know my dad, this is a closing dinner. He knows he already has them over and he just needs to show a little opulence or importance and they have him on a retainer or accede to his demands.

"Ahh. It's Leo, my son." My father says as I approach the table.

I've been through this a million times, so I know the routine.

"He's the sous chef here. That's third in command." My dad educates them and I just smile and nod and the men nod in surprise.

"I thought all your children studied law," one man with a thick Igbo accent says.

"He did, before pursuing his passion. He graduated top of his class at Cordon Bleu." My father says and I feel bad for my sister, Dominique. She graduated from UNILAG and Law school with first class, but I'm not sure my father's announced it as much as he's announced my achievement at Cordon Bleu.

"So, tell us. Can you really prepare eggs one hundred and one ways?" An elderly man says eyeing my toque.

They say the one hundred and one pleats on the toque represent that fact.

"I wouldn't have graduated top of my class if I couldn't, sir." I reply, smiling and the men laugh.

"Please, what's the best thing to order?" Another man with a British accent asks.

"I'd suggest you go with the Chef's special. I'll be making that," I suggest and they look at me with rapt attention as though I was giving them the directions to heaven.

"For first course, we have Chicken a la Maribella. It's a soup I made up myself. For main course, deconstructed potatoes and chicken. And for desert, white chocolate cheesecake." I tell them and snag Femi, our wine expert to recommend wines to them and excuse myself.

That was enough drama for Dad's purposes. Right before I reach the kitchen door, a familiar scent spirals into my nostrils.

Maribelle's perfume.

She wore it both times we met and I can never forget it. It was this floral oriental, citrus scent that just captivates.

I turn and scan the room once more.

Maybe it's just a coincidence.

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤


Guys, I'm back.

Thanks to our mods.

Spambot dehin leyin mi o.

Happy birthday ma'am. Many more prosperous years would come. Wish u long life, goodhealth, great ideas, wisdom to write, and all round happiness enjoy your day.

Thanks for the update.

Happy birthday Millie

Happy birthday dear! Many more years to come

Happy birthday darling. May your days be long in good health. More years of greater exploits.

This update is dedicated to Missmossy (whose birthday was yesterday) and pearl009.

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

AnaGrey**

You got this.

I tell my reflection and leave the restroom. Faramade's here and rather than just hand me my money, he wants us to have dinner first.

And all the while, he's been apologising, and he even held my hand and tickled my palm. Once, long ago, it might have made me smile, but now I can't help but feel like I'm cheating on Leo.

It's not like we're dating or anything. He never even told me if he liked me. I just started kissing him and we went with the flow.

Fada! I cry in my mind.

I feel loose and cheap. I really should learn to control my emotions.

Maribelle, you're going on twenty-five. F*ucking act it.

I sigh and walk back to the table. Let's get this done and over with.

Maybe I'll form posh and order a salad and get the hell out of here.

I slip into my chair, as Faramade calls the waitress and asks what the Chef's special is.

That is your own. I say in my mind as I glance the menu for salad options.

"Chicken a la Maribella-" the waitress says and I look up.

Maribella?

It's probably just a coincidence.

"Deconstructed potatoes and chicken-"

Ewo tun ni deconstructed?(What is deconstructed?)

"And white chocolate cheesecake." She says and I look down at the menu.

Delectare.

Oh my God! This is the bistro Leo works at. Why didn't I pay attention when Faramade kept on yapping about the restaurant he was taking me to?

Oh, yeah. I had my airpods on.

What if Leo comes out and sees me with Faramade and thinks we're back together?

He's the chef. What is he looking for in the dining area? A voice tells me and I sigh in relief.

"Do you want to try the Chicken a la Maribella?" Faramade asks shooting me one of his panty-dropping smiles.

As if.

I scoff and shake my head.

"One Caesar salad and house water." I tell the waitress.

"Maribelle, you can order anything you want." Faramade says and the waitress lets out a small gasp.

I give her a yeah-I'm-Maribelle smile and turn to glare at the loose mouthed Faramade.

"Money is not the issue." He says.

"I know. You currently owe me a hundred k, so money's not my issue. I want a Caesar salad and house water." I grit at him.

He sighs and says, "Chef's special for me."

The waitress nods and leaves.

"How are you?" He asks for the eighth time this evening.

"How is your son?" I say and he groans.

"Maribelle, you're not making this easy-"

"You think I want this? I don't," I say raising my voice and he shivers as people turn to stare at us.

"Faramade, you cheated on me, lied to me and you think I'll make this easy? Just give me what I came here for and I will be on my way."

His sighs and pulls out an envelope from his breast pocket.

I snatch it out of his hand and stuff it into my clutch.

"Thank you. I believe money isn't the issue. You can pay for the salad." I say as I stand.

"Maribelle-"

"Don't call me again, Faramade. Take care of Shola and your son. They need you. I don't." I tell him and leave.

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

"Chef, three more orders of your special." Simon says as one of the new girls returned with the salad she just left with.

If there's anything that irks me, it when food is sent back. It's like I've been slapped in the face.

"What happened?" I ask her and pause garnishing the Maribella soup I was plating.

Call me obsessed. I named the soup after her. I was frustrated one night thinking about her and decided to channel my frustrations in whipping up something new.

End result. Chicken a la Maribella's been on the Chef's special list three times in two weeks. The people love it so much.

"The lady who ordered it just left her date. I think they had an argument," the girl says, "Funny thing, her name's Maribelle."

What the f*uck?

"What did you just say?" I ask her, hoping I'm not hearing things.

"The lady's name is Maribelle." The girl whispers, looking unsure.

Oh my God. She was here. And with a date.

Something vile curls up within me.

She ignored me for two weeks, and she's going on dates?

Is that what she does?

Possess a man's being till he's so preoccupied with her that nothing else seems to matter, and then dump him and move on to the next guy?

Maribelle's not that kind of girl. A part of me vouches for her.

And I detest that part.

I do one of the things I am good at. I lock my feelings up in a safe. At the bistro, I'm Chef Leo, not Leo, the man with woman issues.

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

AnaGrey**

My finger hovers over his number and I wonder what explanation I can give to get me off the hook. He's been calling for two weeks, sending me texts and I've just been ignoring everything.

Why?

Because I am ashamed. Apart from Doctor Alakija, no one else knows about my phobia. Most will probably think I made it up.

Chicken a la Maribella.

I chuckle at the memory. I wished I had tasted it.

He even put our cheesecake on the menu.

Our cheesecake? A voice asks me and I roll my eyes at it.

It's our cheesecake.

Maybe I shouldn't be too cold to Leo. Maybe I should just tell him I'm not ready to be physical. Maybe I should start off with whether he likes me like that or he's just looking to get laid.

Yep. I have to start with that.

God forbid he jumps at my mouth with his d*ick in the middle of the night and….

God! I need help.

Pushing all doubt away, I tap the voice call option and the phone rings. I cross my fingers as I wait for him to answer.

He doesn't.

Maybe he's busy.

I redial his number.

Again.

And again.

And again.

No response.

He's probably angry.

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

Happy birthday millieademi
May the Almighty God bless you and multiply you above your fathers.
May you continue to grow and multiply in wisdom.

Thanks for the update. Happy birthday llnp

As you have chosen to bless us with your gifts, so also Gods blessings have decided to chase after you and enrich you. Another cycle begings for you and it's my prayer that upliftment finds you so much that everything you touch becomes diamond. Happy birthday dear. Today na your day, abeg do shakara. Cheers to your new age.

Happy birthday to my Best Female Nairaland writer. May the Lord bless you with all your heart desires.. Enjoy your day to the fullest!

So real like a true life story
Kudos to you Millieademi and Happy Birthday!!!
I wish you all the best life can offer.
I hope I'm not late for the party?

Nice

Happy birthday Millie
I love you (don't pay too much attention to this)and God bless you for us! ⊙﹏⊙

I've always been a ghost reader as far as the 'Ocean of Secrets' is concerned but I can't just do without wishing you a great birthday celebration, Millie. Thanks for everything you do, here's to a great and fun-filled day and year to you.
Well, I don't use the 'love' word often but I'd make an exception for you: I love you...enjoy your day.

Happy birthday Millie
I so love you and your stories, you are a blessing to us here. Have a fulfilled year

Khriztarl:
You don't like meatpie? What??

I don't eat meat!!!

enirock:
Comman talk it finish...

Ok Wow