Faith Novels & Stories

The phone had fallen and disassembled and the call, disconnected. "Who, who, who are you?" She became a heavy stutterer in an instant. The man who stood at the door to the kitchen walked forward and the light illuminated his features. He was lean and tall, very tall. Dressed in a white long sleeved shirt and dark suit pants, the few exposed parts of his body were ashen, lifeless and cold, like a bleak winter day. "Marry me." These were the two words that came from the deathly pale lips of his emotionless face... ********** Moving away from her overprotective parents, Geneva thought that she could finally lead a stress-free life. This was ruined when a ghost demands intimacy with her

And did I mention it's the same knife from which he carved my body with his initials? Within few seconds my mind come up with thousand of memories and possibilities that can happen right. Even though I had fair share of ideas and possibilities that more probably be my faith yet I wasn't so sure if which one was about to happen or if there are more scenarios that my mind cannot grape at. Though with the thousands of emotions and words colliding inside of my skull one thing was for sure and that was, I'm doomed... My apprehension about the nearby future about my faith was answered within seconds as he rested his Sharpe tiny knife

John finished, before walking away from the podium to sit down. Lorenzo stood up, walking to the podium. He stood there silently for a bit, his eyes roaming around his men. He sniffed. "Today is a horrible day, one we never thought we would see. Our beloved Grace has died. The woman who we all considered as our mother. This woman raised me. And let me tell you, she did a great job-" he turned to the casket. "Grace, thank you for always being here for me. You taught me so many things. One of them is love and I will cherish that in my heart forever. Rest In Peace. I'll see you soon." He smiled sadly before walking off the podium. He watched as his men lowered her casket into the ground. Bonnie

Тургенев, Рудин. КНИ́ГА, -и, ж. 1. Произведение печати (в старину — также рукопись) в виде сброшюрованных, переплетенных вместе листов с каким-л. текстом. Книга большого формата. Толстая книга. Раскрыть книгу. □ [Аночке] предложили посмотреть книгу с картинками. Федин, Первые радости. || Сочинение, произведение более или менее значительного объема, напечатанное отдельным изданием или предназначенное для него. Интересная книга. Написать книгу. □ Наталья должна была каждое утро читать исторические книги, путеш ествия и другие назидательные сочинения. Тургенев, Рудин.

“Be my wife.” Lucia looked at him, questioning his sanity. “You're out of your mind.I don't even know you ”. Lucas Mariano's voice was icy, his gaze unreadable. “You need help.Your sister requires care.I can help you both.You have quite the image so I'm sure you'll need it. It's transactional-nothing more.”He finished. Once the rising star in the ballet world, Lucia Moretti's life is shaken after a brutal divorce and a terrible fire that leaves her and her sister homeless. Now, with her dreams buried,her heart is guarded and her main focus is keeping both herself and her sister alive. Enter Lucas-Merciless, cold and sinfully compelling.He offers a contract marriage which come

Had he orchestrated Alton's demise and then selflessly refused Lennox's debt? I wasn't sure I'd ever know. I smiled and returned the nod, my gratitude, and my respect. "Amore mio," I said, whispering toward Adelaide, "I pray that together they know the joy of fidelity, the joy that only comes with fealty, loyalty, and support." Adelaide lifted her glass of pink punch. "To fidelity." The End... But I couldn't end it...not yet. continue reading for a glimpse into the future—for the epilogues to the Infidelity series.

Felt good being protected like that. Yet now, in the quiet of their home, Christine felt a complicated knot of emotions. Was it gratitude , admiration, lingering doubt, lust or even a touch of fear all mingled together. She had always been cautious, never one to surrender trust easily, but Adrian had a way of making her question even the most deeply held reservations. Could she really believe that his actions came from genuine care, or was it always tied to control, to power, to something else she couldn’t quite name?

Another battle with code. Her hair was a mess. Her eyes burned. But when her app finally compiled successfully, her heart fluttered. “It works…” she whispered to herself, smiling softly. Then, quieter: “Thank You, God. Please… let this be the start of something.” Her faith was faint, almost fragile—a whisper she wanted to believe but rarely had time to nurture. Across the hall, Amara Burnett lay sprawled in her silk sheets, her phone buzzing nonstop. BOARD REMINDER: Presentation at 3:00 PM. Please have your projections finalized.

Faint, but present. You feel it too,he said. “Yes,” I replied. “It’s like the world is holding its breath.” Worse,he said. It’s deciding it doesn’t need us. That hurt more than the bond’s ache. “Gods survive on belief,” I said softly. “Not power. Not age. Belief.” And fear,Kieran added. I exhaled slowly. “Fear lasts longer than faith.” Until it turns,he replied. The child cut in. It already has.

Bright