Books Like Purple Hearts Novels & Stories

My fingers tighten on the book, the pages crinkling slightly under the pressure. With a gentle movement, Cade reaches out and takes the book from my hands, his fingers brushing against mine as he sets it on the nightstand. The loss of my shield makes me feel suddenly vulnerable, and I finally look up at him. His hair is still damp from the shower, dark strands sticking to his forehead. His blue eyes, so warm and inviting, are clouded with concern and something else—regret, maybe? “We should talk,” he says, his voice firm but not unkind.

Russell felt a lightening jolt passed through his spine. And Daniel... His feelings were hard to describe. He felt like he touched the most softest piece of silk. Soft yet firm. His heart was yearning to touch again. How would it feel to twirk them in between his fingers? How would it feel to lick.... Damn... Daniel mentally slapped himself. And quickly button up his shirt. And hurried to the washroom leaving a heavy breathing flustered Russell. What they both were unaware was that their hearts were beating frantically and there was something very wrong happening in their southern region.

His look is completed by black hair and an upside-down cross hung in his left ear. He guffawed as he swung his bat and walked on the shards of glass. He opens the zipper of his leather jacket, ignoring the yelps of the staff of the hotel. He pulls out a thick black book, with skull carvings on its cover. This is the Death Book, the list of humans who are destined to die. But he is not here to act as a grim reaper; he is here to act like a murderer. He flips the pages and hides them back in his jacket. A purple orb flew above him, leaving a trail of purple glitters. The orb sliced itself into two, making a Pacman with a purple color.

His expression dropped all its usual defenses; he probably didn’t realize she could see how open he looked—almost hungry for something he was scared to want. “What did you feel?” he asked. “Like I’ve always been on fire,” she said. “And I finally stopped pretending I wasn’t.” He turned his face away, silent for a few heartbeats. “There’s a cultivation path,” he said, gentle and careful. “Primordial Void Cultivation. It doesn’t use a spiritual root the way most do—it uses the heart, almost literally. All your feelings—grief, love, rage—fuel it. People stopped practicing it. Too dangerous, too unstable. Most cultivators care more about power than about feeling human.”

Vance leaned down to kiss the Girls’ bruises gently as he picked Purple up in his arms and started walking towards the infirmary. 'I love you, Vance, ' Purple said, burying her face in the crook of Vance's neck as she felt her strength slowly leave her. 'I love you too, Purple. So much,' Vance said sincerely. A small smile etched across the Girls’ tired face when she closed her eyes, feeling the last of her strength leave her.

My heart skipped a beat, my tears moist right then. I dropped to a crouch and held him, pressing my ear against his chest again. I could hear his heartbeat, thumping powerfully through his thin shirt. It was such a familiar sensation. It was Stan's heartbeat. As I closed my eyes, my tears flowed ever so quietly. We stayed like that for a while, and as I wiped my tears, I held Nathan firmly in my arms once more. "Please live a good life with Stan's heart." - Nathan walked with me to the gates of the orphanage, but I never once turned to look at him again.