Book Slow Burn Novels & Stories

he interrupted. “Stop following me Jax,” I commanded establishing my authority changing the conversation because at the end of the day he was just a massive fan of mine. “No, I want recommendations on books, preferably the slow burns with two people trying to fight their connection when they were soulmates from the moment they met but they were blind.” I know what he was doing. He was trying to describe our romance but ours was a tragedy, not a romance in my books anyway. I huffed annoyed and played his game, by saying “I would recommend Birthday Girl by Penelo-“

"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.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside. He was standing by his desk, scanning through papers. I approached him and handed him the file carefully, my fingers brushing the smooth leather cover. The moment I did, his hand shot out and rested on my elbow—but instead of the firm, commanding grip I expected, he was holding the other hand… the one that burned. My stomach twisted. Heat flared up from my burn as his eyes dropped to it. “What happened to your hand?” His voice was calm, but there was something in it that made my heart skip. Concern? Interest? I couldn’t tell.

He says into my ear with a low tone. I feel tears stream down my face. He moves his hand back to my ass and thighs. He's squeezing them hard on purpose. I can already picture how blue and purple they will get. He grabs onto my panties and pulls them down to above my knees. Then he takes his fingers and pushes them into me. It doesn't feel good at all. It burns. It burns so fucking much. The gun is still held to the left of my head. I stare down the silver barrel of it, praying a bullet will come out.

Left with no choice, I tried to key in the password instead, but it had been changed as well. My crushing sense of defeat turned into rage, and I pounded the door. "I know you're inside, Harrison! Get out here!" I kept shouting until my throat was strained before the door finally opened ever so slightly. Harrison scowled at me, his gaze making it seem as if I were his mortal enemy. Keeping his voice down, he threatened me, "Are you crazy, Vivian? Must you insist on causing trouble for me? If you insist on keeping this up, we should just—"

he said, eyes already gone dark. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. Time stopped. Matteo yelled something. Lazaro’s finger curled. And I knew he was going to pull the trigger. To be continued... Chapter 38 – Burn Them All Amara The city burns. Flames eat through rooftops like hungry mouths, smoke veils the sky until the sun itself disappears. Sirens scream like dying violins. Bullets cut through air thick with the scent of gasoline, blood, and betrayal.

Somewhere in the mess, a candle lay knocked over, wax hardened against the side. Then came the image again: Cassie and Ledger, laughing, holding hands. That stupid kiss. Her fingers flicked the lighter and a flame burst forth. Then she released her finger. She repeated the motions a few more times before leaving the flame on. Her eyes fell on the book shelf and before she knew it, she was setting the books on fire. “Let’s see how perfect she looks when everything’s gone.” The flames caught on the curtains and then began to spread. There was smoke and heat.

Raven took one, struck it, and stared at the flame. It felt symbolic. It felt final. She touched the flame to the ledger, and it curled inward immediately. Fire licked up the edge of the page, consuming names and numbers and signatures. Jaxon stood beside her, watching the fire devour the past. "One page won’t save us," he said. "But it’s a start." Raven nodded. "We’ll build the rest together." The flames crackled louder. The smoke rose, curling in the air like the last of their denials. They said nothing more as the book burned, and the room filled with the scent of scorched truth.

But because my sister, Raven Webster, thought Snowviper was too terrifying to look at, she stole Blazewing for herself. A month later, the whole world turned hotter, and the heatwave apocalypse began. Snowviper's power, just like his name, could lower the temperature within ten feet of him, creating a living shield against the burning world. Blazewing, on the other hand, carried the opposite—heat and fire. Raven took Blazewing, but she died of heat stroke in the heatwave apocalypse, while I survived thanks to Snowviper's cooling power. In her final moments, Raven was convinced I had stolen her husband. She whispered poison into Snowviper's ear, and he killed me.