Résultats de "Meghan" dans Toutes les catégories

I preferred it when life came in tidy packages. When it didn’t — when something went awry — I was exceedingly skilled at packaging it back up. It was my job to do so after all. I was a reconstructionist. I collected the puzzle pieces, then I gave those pieces to an investigative team to sort out. I didn't ask questions. I didn't offer answers. I saw. I recorded. I moved on. I didn't dwell or obsess. I didn’t hunt down suspects. I didn’t follow clues to find a killer. And I certainly didn’t work side by side with anyone.

Fresh out of college, Meghan Tschanz left everything to join a mission trip around the globe, and quickly witnessed oppression experienced by women that she never thought possible. Over the next several years, she befriended women around the globe who had survived sex trafficking, female genital mutilation, and violence so extreme Meghan wondered at the women's survival. Through listening to their stories, Meghan started to notice a pattern - one that pointed to systems of injustice that harmed and held women back - systems, Meghan realized, she was often complicit in.

They called me an amplifier. And they had bred me, raised me, and trained me to be a killer with preternatural precision. I was capable of taking, holding, and transferring power that wasn’t my own with a simple touch. Skin-to-skin contact. Along with four others of my generation, I could infiltrate any magical organization, extracting whoever or whatever I’d been ordered to extricate. Then I could destroy all evidence of our passing presence. They had made me. They directed me. Controlled me. Then they tried to kill me.

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Three days. That was all the reprieve we got before one of the five showed up, injured and on the run. The snowstorm that had encased the property, as well as stifled the town, hadn’t even melted away. That wounded prey led our newest adversary directly to me. To Christopher. Inconvenient timing, but not unexpected. It was the betrayal forcing me to stay my hand against that adversary that shocked me. Betrayal from the least likely of sources. Or so I would have thought.

We had chosen our place, etching our lives into a new land. Then, we had defended that land when called upon to do so. And we’d won. We’d maintained our freedom. But magic attracts magic. As they say. So, when the sorcerers showed up, holding my recent past hostage - along with a future I had dreamed I might build - it was just as expected. In fact, I might have been getting just a little bored playing at being Emma Johnson.

We had run. We had adapted. And when our magic came back, we changed course again. Hiding instead of running, knowing that we needed to remain hidden from the Collective. Knowing that our lives, our freedom, depended on it. Then the sorcerer showed up, drained and disoriented. And when my past came quickly following him, I had to make another choice. Fight or flight. Continue to deny the power that resided in my blood, in my DNA. Remain perpetually caught between being Amp5 and Emma Johnson. Or face my demons.

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Two more elves were at large in Vancouver, but thankfully they’d been keeping a low profile while I faced the most daunting task of my twenty-seven years — planning and executing my wedding. I was dealing with a disgruntled grandmother with an extensive guest wish list of the magically inclined, all of whom didn’t particularly like each other. Plus a fiance whose concept of time was altered whenever he stepped into a dimensional pocket, and a best friend who’d spent months planning what was certain to be an insane bachelorette party.

I’d been compromised, then turned against those I loved. But no one controlled me. No one took anything I didn’t willingly offer. Not for long, anyway. If the elves wanted a war, I’d bring it. The instruments of assassination would come out to play. The dragon slayer would wreak bloody, sticky vengeance. And then I was getting freaking married—no elves invited. Even a baker of cupcakes and a maker of trinkets occasionally had to set aside the chocolate, the spice, and everything nice to save her friends. And her city.

I had everything I’d ever wanted — a successful business with a second bakery in the works, a sexy fiance who I adored, and good friends who loved to laugh almost as much as I did. So of course it couldn’t possibly last. Unfortunately, this time the trouble was homegrown in Vancouver, threatening my own backyard and those who were under my protection — whether they wanted to be or not. I was, after all, the wielder of the instruments of assassination. Apparently, cutesy cupcakes and being nice only stretched so far.

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The better captured me; she's who stole my heart and made me realize I couldn’t live without this woman. The worst of her took my breath away - kicked me when I was down and twisted me into a million knots. When I first met her, I thought she was someone I would never see again. The second time I ran into her, it was a random coincidence. The third? I didn’t know it at the time, but she was the girl I was going to marry. But life isn’t always perfect. You have to take the better and the worse - even if it means giving her up.

I wasn’t even remotely interested in collecting the third instrument of assassination. It was far better for everyone involved—and for Warner, specifically—if I just let it be. And since I was the only one who could retrieve the artifacts, I figured it was my call to make.

Throughout World War II, when Saturday nights came around, servicemen and hostesses happily forgot the war for a little while as they danced together in USO clubs, which served as havens of stability in a time of social, moral, and geographic upheaval. Meghan Winchell demonstrates that in addition to boosting soldier morale, the USO acted as an architect of the gender roles and sexual codes that shaped the "greatest generation".

The best coaching advice for Strippers and women in the industry from Life Coach and Ex-Stripper, Meghan Layne.www.meghanlayne.com

Actor/Content Creator Meghan Rienks and Producer/Writer/Director Melisa D. Monts are like every other person with access to a microphone, they started a podcast. But to be fair they’ve been at it for a while. It all began with one show which led to another, but as they say, more is more. On Mondays they release Don’t Blame Me!, which is an advice podcast where listeners call in and we share our thoughts on situations such as “What to do if you’re going to your boyfriend’s family function and you haven’t told him that you previously slept with both his twin brothers.” Then on ...

For new episodes, head to: Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/dont-blame-me-but-am-i-wrong/id1223800566 Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/3XSlOHGlTiSTAOfvNQBmcG?si=309285257c404b4a Stitcher: https://www.stitcher.com/show/dont-blame-me Or search, "Don't Blame Me! / But Am I Wrong?" wherever you get your podcasts. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Feel Confident and Secure in your Relationship With Money Are you sick of feeling overwhelmed whenever you open you bank account? Do you want to learn to spend money with intention instead of emotion? Do you want to stop staying small and have more confidence in your financial decisions? In this podcast, you will find actionable steps and emotional support to free yourself from shame and help you find peace around money. My mission is to remove the cultural stigma around money, so that you feel less alone and more equipped to start running toward your fears. If you’re ready to have a ...

A rollicking journey through the wild world of real estate, Life Would Be Perfect If I Lived in That House is the story of "a very imperfect life lived among very imperfect houses" and one woman's obsession with the search for four walls (along with, preferably, a roof not in need of replacing) to call home. In the six houses and many states where Meghan Daum spent her suburban childhood, for the Daum family, "if there was anything that came close to a regular weekend activity it was attending open houses."