Burn Book: A Tech Love Story Novels & Stories

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Tears filled her eyes as she whispered against his chest, “Then burn it down. Burn the book. Please.” But when he reached for the pages, the blood hissed back like flames resisting him. The book laughed—a sharp, broken sound akin to paper tearing apart: “You can’t burn her story, fox; you can only read it…and reading means obeying.” Camela’s scream caught in her throat as she muttered, “It spoke…” Vincent bared his teeth in defiance as his fire flared even higher. “Then I’ll silence it,” he said fiercely. He slammed his hand down, his fire blazing but the pages didn’t burn. Instead, they bled harder and thicker, flooding the floor until it reached their ankles.

Carla and Travis watched from the sidelines, hands clasped. “We did it,” Carla said, her voice steady. Travis nodded. “And we’re just getting started.” The scars remained, but they were no longer wounds. Dave, Carla, and the other victims were healing, not just surviving but thriving, their journeys a testament to resilience, love, and the unyielding power of talent reclaimed. ----- This marks the end of the Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire. Compiled short story arcs now made their way to their ends.

His fingers, rough with calluses, traced paths across my skin repeatedly, sending delightful shivers through me. I couldn't help but let out a few soft moans. His heavy breathing intensified, and, appearing emboldened, his hand continued its exploration lower down my body. His low, husky voice resonated in my ear, laden with a seductive quality, as he asked, "Is it alright if I continue, Cynthia?" I lowered my gaze in a flush of shyness, a gesture that served as my implicit consent. William could no longer suppress the overwhelming passion he felt. He immediately pulled me into his embrace.

while Maria got all her father's love and affection, Amber got heads turning everywhere she went because of her extraordinary beauty and tender soul. "Happy birthday sister and congratulations,dad and I have the best present for you I can barely contain my excitement. I am sure you will DIE for it." She said emphasising the word die. Amber paid no attention to her sister but decided to sit and wait for her to finish her blubbering because she knew better than to walk away from her bossy sister would get her in trouble with the father.

"You're looking at me weird. Do I have something on my face?" I shook my head. My emotions were churning violently, but I forced them to stay in check. The moment she was out of earshot, I pulled a pen out of the bag and wrote something on a piece of paper. … Two hours later, everything I'd written was gone. I tried the other pen, only for it to end up showing the same thing. This wasn't something I had seen coming. I couldn't believe that Zoe had truly given me disappearing ink pens. That could only mean everything my future self said was true.

Twenty-Two: The Rescue Cecilia POV The doctor’s hands were cold. He pressed against my skin, checking the burns with a detached precision. He smeared the ointment over the raw spots where the clamps had been, his movements efficient. He didn't look me in the eye. His touch was detached, almost bored, as if he’d seen hundreds of girls like me wired up and screaming.

I couldn't even count how many times I swallowed hard because of what he said, but I only know one thing, and that is that I feel like I'm being burned alive because of what I heard. I'm burning as if I'm in hell. The heat is so intense that I feel like I'm being consumed by flames of passion. And I eventually got swept away without realizing it. Because I only became aware of myself when it was already too late, when I could no longer stand up from kneeling, when I could no longer back out. Because the last thing I know, I found myself holding the two side of his brief before pulling it off. And his bulge—huge dick sprang like a soldier who's ready into a war. And the worst part is that, my

"I tried drying with iron, but I burned the pages." Who dries a book with an iron? Couldn't he borrow my hair dryer? "My book. Where is it?" "Wait here." He ducked into his room whilst I tried to control my anger. Alina, it was just a book. It didn't matter. You could buy another. You could read it again and paste the notes. But that was my book. Nobody messes with my book. He burnt my book. He murdered my book. He was a murderer. "Your book." I stared at the almost destroyed cover and opened to find dark brown iron marks and spilled coffee marks. "We will go to book shopping."

"I told you, it was on the shelf in your study." Alexander's eyes snapped back to mine, "You shouldn't have been able to see it, talk less of touch it." A shiver ran down my spine as Alexander's words echoed in my mind. I stared at the book in my hand. What was so special about this burnt book? Is it more important than the fact that someone or something almost killed me? "Give me the scroll I gave you days ago?”