Blind Love Book Novels & Stories

Her life is perfect. Dear readers, this is the end of the story of The Blind Luna. A blind young woman who overcomed principalities to become one of the greatest lunas ever know. Her story stops here just as another begins. Another young woman who fights against troubles. Will she overcome them just like the Blind Luna?. Soon, we shall begin her story. The story of The Mute Luna. a/n: If you loved the story, please leave a gem. Thank you very much.

Lisa laughed at her aunt's curiosity and told the short version. “Well, we met at a park, and Lilani started talking to him. For me, it was love at first sight, and after two weeks, he asked me to marry him, and well, six months later, here we are, still going strong.” “Oh, Lisa, your parents would have loved him. He seems like a gentleman. But what's with the dark glasses?” “Well, he was left blind after an accident, and a few weeks ago he went for surgery; it was a success, but he still needs to wear them for a few weeks,” Lisa explained. Just then, Alessandro walked into the kitchen, hand in hand with Lilani.

"Wow. So trying to be charming didn't work, and now you're going with insults? Bold strategy. Desperate, but I'll give you points for creativity." "Why do you automatically assume every woman is dying for your attention?" she snapped. "Do you own a mirror?" "Yes," I said slowly. "And every single morning, that mirror reminds me I'm basically perfect." She squinted at me through those hideous oversized glasses. "Of course it does. Delusion loves company." I looked her up and down, my eyes stopping deliberately on that enormous mole above her eyebrow. "Listen, I'm literally the last person on earth who needs validation from you. Especially since the only reason you're angry right now is becaus

“Did you hear that? Please tell me you all heard that.” “This... this blind bitch is the one who made us? Do you know how ridiculous you sound right now? Midnight Bloom is one of the biggest publishing companies out there. We worked hard to build this place. We did that. “Not some random blind woman who can’t even walk across a hallway without ending up flat on the floor.” She turns back to me, her eyes dripping with fake sympathy. “Sweetheart, if you’re that desperate for attention, just say it. You didn’t have to make up some pathetic fantasy story just to feel important for five minutes.”

He left without waiting for a reply. A few minutes later, Zameera stirred awake, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. “Where’s Papa now?” “He’s still inside the room, baby. I think he’s still getting his medicine.” “Why was he bleeding so much?” Her little voice trembled with curiosity and fear. I forced a soft smile, brushing her hair back. “Sometimes… when blind people’s eyes try really hard to work again, they bleed a little. It’s like they’re fighting to see. The doctors are helping that fight.”

Everything else is just noise," he says hoarsely. The words make my heart ache and soar at the same time. He moves over me, the heavy weight of his body settling between my legs. He doesn't kiss my mouth. He buries his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. I feel his nose brush against my pulse point, counting the beats of my heart. "You smell like life," he growls, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below my ear. "You smell like the only clean thing in this city." His hands slide down my body, mapping me. He isn't groping, he’s memorizing. He’s a blind man learning braille, needing to know the topography of my existence to prove to himself that I haven't changed.

A painting hangs beside his desk. I don’t know why it draws me in, but I find myself walking closer. Thick strokes of midnight blue and charcoal gray layer the canvas. In the center — barely visible unless you truly look — a thin streak of gold cuts through the darkness. Not bright. Not loud. Just there. A quiet fracture of light. It isn’t something you glance at. It’s something you feel. My fingers almost lift to touch the textured paint. Why would a blind man choose something so visual?

Ruin “Spent years blind, only for my fiance to blind me again,” I can’t help but chuckle at Chloe Jane’s words as I lead her into the forest behind the pack house. She’s been complaining about the blindfold for the last few minutes, but I want her to have the full effect of the gift I’ve been working on since she’s been gone. “Oh, aren't we overdramatic. Do Fates have zero patience or something? Hold your horses, we’re almost there, dove,” I say as we walk, only for her to pout more.

I think of her, of everything she’s endured, everything Selena has stolen from her, and the fire in me burns hotter. The moment I step further into the cave, the darkness swallows me whole. It’s not just a lack of light anymore... it’s absolute, crushing blackness. I can’t see anything, not even the faint glow of my mark. I can't help but shake my head while a dry chuckle escapes my mouth. “Maybe she didn’t plan for someone like me,” I murmur, my voice bouncing off the walls. I take another step forward, the cold stone beneath my feet grounding me. “A blind person... or, in my case, a former blind person. Guess that’s her mistake."

Surely this guy could have taken the shirt off first. Whatever. It’s fine. Next, he’s holding up a blindfold. “It will diminish one sense while heightening others.” Is that how that works? Hmmm. I suppose that could be interesting. Worth a try, anyway. This seems like something Neil would be into. He’s a control freak. He’d probably get off on being able to determine when and what I can see. And feel. I lick my lips. I’m starting to see the appeal of this book. Holding the book open with one hand, I start to trace my other over my thigh.