Breaking Through Book Novels & Stories

Giving up her job would mean resigning herself to a life of mediocrity with the Shows. Thus, she argued with Laura. However, the old woman was a master manipulator. Even though she had beaten Queenie severely, she played the victim in front of Francis, milking his sympathy.

she screamed out fire and brimstone from her lungs, as if she had been heartbroken by her boyfriend. “ Aria, I didn’t mean to. It was a mistake..” my eyes dilated, as I saw the pains in her eyes, it was more than being heartbroken. Aria is so addicted to her books, that when you break her books you break her… you break lose memories that was meant to be hidden.

In the very center of the book there is a photograph sticking out. I looked at the large glass window next to the closed door. I can't see anyone and Jacob hasn't come back yet. I looked again at the photo and slowly took it from the book. My chest was pounding with whatever I'm doing. I don't understand what that fear is for. I'm not committing a crime. It's just a simple photo and I'm just damn curious. It's just normal so why am I nervous at the thought of being caught?

Zaviers hand went to his shoulder right when he went to stand up. I quickly turned around and power walked to the book because I could feel the need radiating off of him. Blake was looking at me with a soft smile that had me smiling more. I quickly looked throught the pages until I stopped on the page that read. 'Broken souls.' I wouldve been confused if I hadnt passed soul breaker a few pages back. I rubbed my hand over the page and watched as a gold ribbon slowly came out of the book. The ribbon twirled around Blake in a graceful manner. The ribbon slowly attacted itself to his body. "I cant move." Blakes panicked tone had me praying that this was right.

She thought maybe she could see some things that could break the bond. She walked to the shelves and searched around for any books that involved werewolves. She picked up a book from the shelf. The book had a picture of a black wolf in front of the title. "Werewolves rule." She remembered that she had seen the book before. The book was for anyone who had just transformed for the first time. It was for the new wolves to know and follow certain rules. "Maybe it might have something to do with how to break it." She said , flipping the book. It was a book with a lot of tiny writing. She flipped it for some time, until she got bored. She was about to drop it when something caught her attention.

frequency. But the floor didn't crack. It "scrolled." The stones beneath her feet moved like a series of lines on a page, the "Biological Truth" of her strike being "translated" into a dramatic moment of defiance. The more she fought, the more "Compelling" she became. The "Reader" was feeding on her rebellion, turning her resistance into the opening hook of the second book. "System Update: Interactive Mode Engaged," the thousand-voice chorus announced from the white sky. "The Audience has requested a 'Deeper Insight' into the Sovereign's Trauma. Initiating 'The Flashback Sequence'."

Don't just skip this book again; add to library. Enjoy! Your loving author; Natasha Gwen

Inside her was pure pleasure, but it couldn’t combat my mental state, couldn’t push through the noise, through the pain. Lost in the fog of my own mind, I thrust forward. I couldn’t see anything, hear anything, barely feel anything. Rougher, harder, deeper to find her, but it was like I was fucking the wisps of fog in the nothingness. I couldn’t find my way, couldn’t stop. With each thrust, I fractured more as I searched out the thing that connected us, but I couldn’t find it. I pushed harder, faster, running from it all. Each slam was like a hammer strike, cracking and shattering everything around me, but I still couldn’t break through.

Some days, it was okay to forgive. Some days, it was just okay without meaning anything. And some days, you stand up and start again. My hands worked on the pad, my fingers pressed down the words to write the report waiting to be written. The clicking of the keys echoed in the small chamber. Some days, you get yourself back only after hitting the rock bottom. Some days, it was okay to be broken. It was just okay.

I did not belong here. The restricted section wasn’t for people like me—not unless you had high clearance or knew someone on the inside. I had neither. I was good at getting into places and out again that people could not easily see, though, and desperation had its peculiar knack of opening doors that nobody intended you to go through at all. The book on my knees was bound in a cracked leather, loose at the seams, and torn here and there in the spine. Symbols danced across the page, some I recognized, others that seemed to shimmer just out of comprehension. But I kept reading. I had to.