Burns And Novels Novels & Stories

The bookshelves were thrown away from the walls and the desk was carved in half as though someone had taken out his anger on the innocent furniture. The scene shifted and again she was standing naked on a street. Again she heard the whispering and again she found a burning building. Walking through the door she found herself in a library, just as destroyed as the office had been. The scene shifted again and again. Always she was taken to a burning building and always she found herself in a room of books.

Lana sighed. Lana almost tempted me to show her. That's when I decided to burn every book I owned. My neighbor Presley was never the same after the police and Bruce questioned Jude. It was late at night and I used my firepit to burn my books. The smell wasn't inviting like hickory charcoal. Presley was cleaning his grill as he often does. He tried to peek my way, but once he saw me glaring at him, he stopped what he was doing and hurried inside.

The concert's atmosphere grew more intense by the minute, with everyone's focus locked on the stage. It seemed like I was invisible, blending into the shadows of the concert. The dim lights gave me a false sense of bravery. I moved to the beat of the music, letting the rhythm guide my steps. She moved with a rhythm that made the air between us tremble, every motion sent a heat through me that I could not contain. I reached for her waist and pulled her close, the sudden rush of contact hit me like fire, every cell in me coming alive.

"If that's what you need to do, then I'm here with you." Together, we gathered the romance novels, piling them up in the center of the room. The weight of their pages felt heavy in my hands, a physical representation of the weight they had placed on my heart. I struck a match, watching as the flame danced to life, its glow illuminating the truth I had been avoiding. As the fire consumed the books, I felt a sense of liberation wash over me. The crackling flames devoured the tales of love and passion, leaving behind only ashes and smoke. It was a symbolic release, a declaration of my independence from the false narratives that had held me captive.

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

The assistant let out a sharp cry and looked anxiously at Milton. "Mr. Jenning, Mrs. Jenning just had a skin graft. Now she's suffering from severe burns again…" Because Rita had intentionally burned her arm, Milton had dragged me onto the operating table and forced me to undergo surgery to make up for it. At the memory, a sharp cramp shot through my lower abdomen. The doctors who had been fawning over Rita sneered. "You're defending her this much—what, got some shady relationship going on?" "She brought this on herself. Throwing tantrums and threatening suicide over some love rivalry with Ms. Atkinson—everyone knows the Jenning family's wife is vicious."

I'd never get around to seeing my face and not thinking about her, not seeing her. The girl in the mirror stared back, gaze unwavering. The left side of my face was totally affected by the fire. It was a 3 degree burns though lots of surgeries over the years have reduced the scars greatly and now, it was a little over 1 degree burns. My left eye was badly affected though and I've had to wear contact lenses. I subconsciously ran my hands over the lines marring my left face, they stretched further into my neck and chest and my tummy, then my legs. I lived through sheer luck.

I slumped in the chair and stalked the movement of his hands with my half-mast gaze. "Destroying what should have been destroyed years ago." With those whispered words, he brought the dancing flame to the cover of the book. Flames licked around the edges, blackening the pages until they withered and became a pale white. The ashes trickled down like the beginning of snow on a blistering winter night. Snow. Such a pure element to think of under such circumstances. Snow resembled a blank slate, new beginnings. Maybe this could have been what this was if I had burned the damn book the moment it landed in my possession.

“And what’s even crazier is that it’s literally the exact same scene from—” “Tragedies of True Hearts, yeah,” Jade cut in, lifting a mauve sweater and holding it up to her chest. The color pulled warm gold from her eyes. “You think he’s read it?” I snorted aloud, tipping my head back. “Tristain? Reading romance novels? Please. He probably only reads grim nonfiction or pretentious realistic fiction. There’s no way he’s touched something that unhinged.” Jade only hummed, unconvinced, draping another miniskirt over her arm. God—how many skirts could one person possibly need?

I tell him before ducking outside and sparking up a smoke as I lean on my polished bike. My thoughts wander to the woman who called herself Flames last night. She'd had my attention as soon as her wide green eyes had met mine, her full lips curled in an amused smile as she casually dealt with Tanya. When she walked into the bar, I'd stood back and observed as everyone tracked the fiery red heads movements through the room. Whether she meant to or not, she managed to get the attention of everyone in there and I'm sure caused a few to suffer from their eyes wandering off of their ol' ladies. When she has walked away from me outside, my c**k had jumped in my trousers as I watched her round hips