Bittersweet Books Novels & Stories

Some wounds need time before justice arrives, and some victories are sweeter because of everything endured along the way. If you're enjoying this book, please continue supporting it by adding it to your library, leaving comments, and sharing your thoughts. I would love to know how you're feeling about the characters and the story so far. Your feedback, theories, and even your criticisms are always welcome because they help me grow and make this journey even more special. Thank you for staying with Liliana and me. The road ahead is long, but I promise there is so much more to come. Don't forget to follow me for daily updates❤️.

I'm frozen, skin burning, chest heaving. He leans in one last time, his whisper threading through the noise. "Consider yourself saved." Saved. The word tastes bitter. Because it doesn't feel like salvation. It feels like exposure. Like humiliation. Like he just made me a pawn in a game I swore I'd never play. Before I can say anything, the bottle clinks again, laughter spilling over me like poison. The circle closes in, hungry for the next victim. But I can still feel his mouth on mine, his whisper in my ear, his eyes warning, daring, promising all at once.

What more proof did I need? But why was he after me? I couldn’t figure out his bipolar attitude. Once he was abusing me, judging me, and breaking my heart with his harsh words. In the next minute, he was nursing me back to health. Again, the next day he was after my business again, like the worst enemy alive! I would really go crazy trying to figure him out.

Chapter 53: Bitter Entanglement Alain's Bedroom, The Salt Mill Tavern, Fifth And Main, Boylesten, England (1763)... A rolling storm had been of no consequence to the two young lovers coupled inside the room at The Salt Mill Tavern, on Fifth and Main. The noises within had been thankfully drowned out by the crackle of thunder and the flashes of lightning had been of no issue to two people who needed only their bodies enmeshed to adhere to their most basic of carnal needs. The frequent moans that escaped the pinked lips of the young redhead peasant filled the room as the occasional grunts and groaning from the handsome young noble lad hard at work drilling his impressive appendage inside the t

The sharp and attractive square jawline moved slightly, he answered the other's question: "Old Fashioned" The bartender responded with a nod and then started his bartender, leaving him to wait by slamming the phone furiously. The wine glass was pushed in front of him, taking a sip. Bitter taste of Angostura Bitter is light of orange peel, a little sweetness of cane sugar is full of sweetness of Bourbon Whiskey. Those were the things he tasted, like the memories with the lover that became old a few minutes ago came back. The sweet taste like when she said she loved him with sweet words, the bitter taste when she said she loved him, but the feelings were slowly being shared with others. It all

she was nodding her head as she turned around, and was almost running to her room. I had expected a heated confrontation with that woman, not a dramatic argument with her brother. The thing was, it was none of my business, but seeing her look so sad brought a strange pang in my chest. Damn. I was becoming soft. This was expected, being around women, especially my little sister, Carrie, whom I thought I would never see nor touch again; she grew fiery but delicate. Fate had its twisted way of bringing pieces together, and Asher's life was forever changed. The latter was so in love I swore he'd crawl on his knees if Carrie ordered him to. Having said that, I was happy for them. *

The other two follow me from behind. "Hello," a dark haired woman with a dark brown eyes smiles while standing in front of us. So this is the bloody babysitter who's an hour late than the time she's supposed to be here? And she dares to smile like this as if she's innocent? "Hello," all three of them greet her back. "You're pretty," Belle supplies as she steps forward. "Awww thanks," the tardy babysitter squats in front of her and smiles. I feel like wiping that smile off this instant by the rage in me, she fucking wasted an hour of my life.

His gaze dropped again, settling on the V formed by my legs. "You smell like fear, Belle." The way his voice caressed my name made me shudder. His tongue wrapped around the word provocatively. Before I could ask how he knew, I realized the book with my photo was on the table. He straightened and took another step, cornering me against the counter. His hip bumped mine. I felt the hardness of his erection against my thigh through his wet pants. A stifled moan died in my throat. "But you also smell like desire. Do you know how dangerous that is?"

She saw it now: the way Selene’s fingers lingered on Damien’s wrist, and the way their voices dipped into a low murmur, sharing secrets Elara was never meant to hear. “Morning, Ellie!” Selene chirped, her voice dripping with fake honey. “You look beautiful today.” Elara felt a surge of pure, icy bile rise in her throat, but she bit the inside of her cheek until the copper taste of blood grounded her. “Thank you,” Elara said, her voice smooth as silk. “You too, little sister.” As she sat down, Damien leaned in. The scent of his expensive cologne—once her favorite—now made her want to gag. It smelled like the end of her life.

Even so, she maintained her graceful air However, on that day, she veered off her usual path and stopped in front of a small bookstore with a charming, old-fashioned facade, its windows filled with colorful covers of all kinds of books. She was looking for new books, especially something in the religious section. She leaned her bike against the wall. She stepped inside lightly, the doorbell tinkling softly, reminiscent of bookstores of yesteryear; the atmosphere was nostalgic and welcoming. While she was focused on choosing a few books from the shelves, she didn’t notice the presence of a man who had just entered. He was walking through the aisles with no real interest in the bookshelves; hi