Book Of Love Book Novels & Stories

I step out of the car and approach slowly, fingers tracing the engraved letters: “Olivia Kingsley, beloved daughter, wife and mother, always in our hearts.” I kneel, resting my hands on the cool stone. A bouquet of fresh lilies, her favorite, rests against the base. I had picked them up on the way here, the soft fragrance a small comfort amidst the storm in my chest.

After that, I would stroll through Roselle Street, but I always felt lonely, like I was missing something. That was until I entered a bookshop and saw Jonathan reading in the corner. He was surrounded by tall piles of books. He set every book he finished reading on one side before moving on to another. He seemed content in his world of ink and paper and looked like nothing could intrude on his peace. I grew curious and asked the old man who ran the bookshop about him. The old man clicked his tongue and replied, "That young man has come here three days in a row. He sits here from morning until nightfall, and he even skips meals sometimes."

To those finding true love: true love,is always understanding,it patient,it stays,it shares your pains and joy And in the last line of the book, she wrote: Love, the kind that stays, isn’t loud. It’s steady. It lingers. Like a whisper at the edge of sleep. Like hope. Like home. it every thing that will ever complete you THE END Dear Readers, please drop Your comment for the review of this book.... and get ready for my next book.. thank you!!!

Bowie POV My eyes shot open. The water was still falling around us, steam curling through the air, and Wesley was looking at me like he had just handed me the most fragile part of himself. "Wesley." His name came out barely a whisper. "I love you, Bowie." He said it again, stronger this time, like a weight had been lifted off his chest. “I have been trying to say it for weeks. I couldn't… I didn't know how. But I love you. I'm in love with you."

She realized she had nothing for him to sign, so she quickly added, "Actually, wait here, I'll be right back!" Blake hurried to a nearby bookstore and soon returned, brandishing a copy of At the Horizon's End and a black marker. "Could you write, 'To Blake, wishing you an early fortune'?" "Okay," Liam complied, signing the book with the requested message. Blake admired Liam's handwriting, which was as elegant as he was. "Does this look alright?" he asked gently, his voice calm and reassuring. "It's perfect, thank you!" Blake beamed, holding the book close.

She stole my breath away at that moment. She picked up the phone at the other end, her eyes urging me to do the same. “I’m planning on writing a book,” she whispered, still maintaining her friendly face. “Writing a book? Bitch, what the hell do you want?” I yelled, my eyes blazing with fury. What did her writing skills have to do with me? “The book is about failures. Guess who would be on the cover? You,” she said, her lips parting as laughter escaped them. I stared at her with rage, different methods of turning her instincts flickering in my mind.

"Shelly, do you still have the maternity stuff we bought before? And the pregnancy care manual I made—is it still around? "A colleague of mine is pregnant. We won't be using those anytime soon anyway, so why don't we let her have them?" Clearly, the colleague was Rachel. I stopped in the middle of my crying, unable to say a word. The last time I was pregnant, Xavier had been overjoyed. He'd lost several nights of sleep just to compile a pregnancy care manual for me. He'd made a lot of notes on it, all clear reflections of his love and hope. At the time, he had really wanted the child. Now, though, his love had shifted to another woman.

She recalled the day she and Sean were kissing intimately in the bathroom, with James standing even closer to them than she was now to him. Was James’s pain then the same as hers now, unbearable to the point of suffocation? No, his pain must have been even worse. So this was what love felt like. To love someone was to be unable to bear seeing others being close to them or claiming them as their own. But she had hurt James deeply, countless times. Like self-inflicted punishment, she stood motionless in the snow, staring at the darkened window. The next morning, Jessica and James left for the City Hall.

Imagine his surprise seeing the vampire king holding a ladle as he went through an old cookbook in his hand. Luveas glanced at the stupefied secretary. “Ah, Tobeyaz,” he exclaimed. “Glad you came. Hurry here and help me read these writings.” Tobeyaz went over, puzzled and took the cookbook from the king’s hand. “What is all this about, Your Majesty?” he asked. "Just read it for me, will you?" Tobeyaz said nothing to reply but he read the writings aloud. As he read them line by line, his brows knitted. The book was all about cooking meals that were eaten by humans.

Alison spat. “There’s love between Nick and me,” Heloise hissed. “He’s just tempted by the glory and power that comes with marrying the future queen. I mean, look at you and look at me. Do you really believe there’d be any other reason for him to choose you over me?”