Book Slow Burn Novels & Stories

PROLOGUE – EXTENDED Title: What the Fire Forgot Book Two: Throne of Fire & Favors: Loyalty Is a Loaded Gun Time: 4 Months After Naomi Raines' Death Location: Valeburn City, Southside Block, Navarro-District Border Weather: Overcast with the smell of distant smoke and oil; a light wind rustles charred flyers across blood-washed pavement Soundscape: Buzzing streetlamps, the soft clink of bottles, low whimpers from alley shadows, and sirens like lullabies for broken cities

Clara Vale lived on the 12th floor of an old, rundown building in downtown São Paulo. At 32, she was the undisputed queen of bestselling erotic romances. Her books sold by the thousands: Fuck Me Until Dawn, where the protagonist was destroyed by a mafioso with a 23-centimeter cock; Fireman’s Dick — the irony of fate hitting hard now — and her most recent one, Emergency Orgasm, which had spent three straight weeks at the top of the charts.

Sliding it open, I pulled out one sheet of paper. The handwriting was jagged, impatient, black ink bleeding into the fibers. No greeting, no signature. Just words, stark and chilling: “Walk away from her, or you’ll burn with her.” I read it twice. Three times. The words didn’t soften. They only sharpened, cutting deeper each time my eyes traced them. Burn. The word struck hardest, dragging me back to the fire Isabella had survived—the flames that had shaped her entire existence. Now the fire had been extended to me.

, but before the old lady could complete CEO intervenes,” just throw her out of my cabin right now or else I am going to fire you all”, ordering his guards Just burn each and every copy of this book or else ....”, But before she could complete her sentence suddenly her voice gets husky and his facial expressions starts changing, and she again continues,” I am going to. “, and once again before completing her sentence she ends up hitting wall of the room exploding her mind like a bomb and soon her blood spills all over the room which leaves both of us scared So not having any other option with just ended up burning each and every copy of the book which were collected across the globe but stil

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My hand closed around a small bound book on the table and I pulled it away from her and she screamed something I didn't understand and reached for me. Blaze was between us in an instant. "Burn it," Damon said to me. Directly. Clear. There was a flame on the table. A candle. I held the book over it and it caught fast, faster than it should have, like it wanted to burn. Lana made a sound that was not quite human when it went up. The three bundles were already burning. Colt had lit them the moment we got inside. The moment the book caught fully something in the air changed. I felt it physically. A pressure I hadn't realized was there released all at once and I took a breath that felt like the f

The heels were resting in my lap like a heavy weight of shame. "If you're not going to wear them," Tucker said sharply, "then give them to Shelby yourself. That can be your apology." He slid the shoes toward me with quiet contempt, as though my hesitation merely proved my ingratitude. "Shelby's always been kind enough to overlook your little games," he added. His tone was sharp and unforgiving. "She won't hold it against you." Those elegant heels now felt like sharp knives digging into my heart. Every burn on my legs throbbed fiercely. They were a brutal reminder of his cruelty.

My imaginative and prescient blurs and the room spins. "Noah, please," I croak, my voice slightly audible. "You whore," he growls. "Two months far from me, and you’re already dozing with your ‘buddy’?" "It's not…" I attempt to explain, but the phrases catch in my throat as I choke. "Sir, please let her move!" Mary Anne’s voice cuts via the fog. Noah’s grip loosens, and I collapse to the ground, coughing violently. "She’s satisfactory," Noah snaps, his tone icy.

The path to freedom was clear and direct. In murderous rage, I pierced my claws into the palm of my right hand, hovered it over the last remaining shreds of the book and watched Vincent's eyes glaze over with tears. I uttered a single word, "Burn." And the book caught on fire the moment drops of my blood from the cut I made on my palm came into contact with it. In Vincent's absentmindedness, with his gaze still pinned on the burning book, everything slowed down before me. I moved faster than the law of time permitted, over to where he knelt with a sorrowful expression as he watched the remains of the book become ash.

"I don't believe in miracles anymore, Ben. I believe in stubbornly refusing to die. There's a difference." "Is there?" he asked, his voice softer now. "Sometimes I think your stubborn refusal to give up is the closest thing to a miracle I've seen since The Burning." The mention of The Burning made my chest tighten, as it always did. The memories were still too fresh, too raw. I could still smell the smoke, hear the screms, see the sky turning that terrible shade of orange as the world caught fire. I pushed the thoughts away, focusing instead on putting one foot in front of the other.