About Life Story Novels & Stories

"I'll do what I've always done. I'll love people. I'll help where I can. I'll watch the next generation carry forward what we started." "And?" "And I'll write. I want to tell the whole story. From Lily's sacrifice to today. I want people to understand how one moment of love can ripple outward for generations." "What will you call it?" I looked around my new apartment, decorated with photos of our vast chosen family, awards from governments around the world, and artwork made by children whose lives had been saved. "I'll call it 'The Art of Living,'" I said. "The story of how broken people learned to choose love over fear, healing over hurt, hope over despair."

"It's not a book. I just made it up, based on a life story." "What life story?" Calla asked, her brows knitting in confusion. Vernon leaned back in his chair and drew in a deep breath. The usual edge in his eyes was gone and was now replaced by something raw and painful. "Our story." He slowly replied. "Yours and mine."

“You’re making me feel stupid!” That made me laugh. You can’t blame me, though. If someone will ask me why don’t I add humor in talking or basically in my life, I will just point my books then turn away. Simply, my life only revolves in my books. So, why should I add humor in it? It’s not like it’s a requirement for you to stay alive. My friends know how deep my mindset is. For me, mindset is everything. Even them couldn’t catch up with the way I view everything. They’re having a hard time understanding those. Turns out for them I’m a whole mystery that no can be able to solve.

"You have been in the middle of this your whole life." I thought about it honestly. "I did not always know I was in the middle of it," I said. "When I was small it was just my life. Mommy and Daddy and the bad things that happened and then the less bad things and then the good things." I paused. "You get used to the size of your own story. Even when it is enormous." He handed me a wet plate. "My story felt very small for a long time," he said. "One bag. One room at a time. Trying to find something that connected me to something larger." He paused. "I did not expect it to be this large."

Their love story, born from a chance encounter in a library, had blossomed into a beautiful testament to the enduring power of love, the magic of family, and the endless possibilities that life holds. Their story, a tapestry woven with threads of laughter, challenges, and unwavering love, continued to unfold, a reminder that even in the face of life's inevitable changes, the heart's capacity for love and joy never diminishes. Their journey, a testament to the enduring power of connection and the beauty of shared dreams, was a love story for the ages, a story that would be whispered in the wind, etched in the hearts of those who knew them, and remembered for generations to come.

“There's nothing to tell,” I replied. “Oh, I'm sure there is. Everyone has a story. I'm very curious to hear yours. If we're going to act as lovers, then we need to know things about each other.” There was no way I was just going to open up my life to him so I decided to give him a quick summary, knowing he wouldn't stop asking if I didn't. “There really isn't much to tell. I'm the youngest of three children and both my parents are dead.”

“Yeah, keep on telling yourself that. I know she does her yoga in here.” I only wave him off and find the best spot to plant it against. But just as I am about to get down from the table that I am standing on, I hear a familiar voice entering the kitchen. ............................................................................................................................... We all have our stories, don’t we? Some stories merely create a ripple in our lives, while others go deeper. So much so that they can change the course of our lives. Dramatically. Mine is such a story. It’s no sadder or deeper than anyone else’s. It’s just life, and I how I choose to respond to it, I have realized,

Lissa uttered, and I immediately know that is the start of her life story. Back when we're at the plane, she already told me how she got pregnant at a very young age and how she didn’t tell her parents, and the story goes on. Her story is so true to life that you would know it’s not sprinkled with sugar and spice; especially with her choices of words and description that I knew she’s always been an authentic human being.

It was Francine. I gave a nod but tried to maintain a stern face. Alex ran to me and asked, "So are we riding an airplane? " "Yes we are little boy." I said smirking at him and messing up his hair. The sound of horns from the taxi signaled that we were all about to have a major change in our lives. I am Attorney Providence Dalton. Provi to my my closest friends.. Atty. Pro to my colleagues… This is my story.

“Nah. I think we’re just getting started. We are in the happy ending part of our story of life.” He looked puzzled at me so I explained it to him that life is just like a book. The beginning is our childhood and growing pains. The middle is teenage angst and early life lessons. The chaos is our twentys and everything. Climax is the end of it all and finally is our happiness and the resolution. He nods. “Never thought of it like that.” “I found mine,” I tell him. “Hope you found yours.” “I did,” he says. We shake hands.