Famous Last Words Books Novels & Stories

"He's an incredible writer. He let Pat read a couple of his short stories, and she gave them to me. They were real dark, but beautiful. One was about what goes on in the space between moments of time. It was called 'The Second Hand.' He had this character who suddenly begins to live between the moments, and finds that there is more going on there than in normal time." "Sounds interesting. What made the story dark?" "The guy was in the last hour of his life. But it took him a year to live it." "Did the guy know it was his last hour?" Ray hesitates. He must know Seymour is not well. "I don't know, Lara." He has not used my name before. "Call me Sita," I say, surprising myself. He raises an eye

Vivian conceded, her tone a blend of relenting and caution. "Thank you so much, young lady. You are such a lifesaver," he expressed his gratitude, and a grateful smile adorned Vivian's face. "So, what's the name of the book you are looking for?" Vivian inquired, curiosity coloring her voice. "The White Death," he revealed, and Vivian's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the title. "What kind of book is that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. "Supernatural," he replied, his gaze intensifying as he locked eyes with her.

Christian looks at me and asks, "I assume you didn't know your grandfather was a famous anonymous writer." "Not at all," I respond, completely shocked. "Have you heard of Walk Away, When the Night Calls, or Her Beautiful Soul?" he asks, and my jaw drops, as does Max's. All these titles have been best-sellers for years. "He... he wrote all of those?" I stammer, utterly amazed.

After he went back to the bedroom, I opened Serena's social feed. The latest post popped up instantly, "Saw a new star last night. I've got a feeling that it's going to be named after me this time." Underneath the post, her friends left playful comments. "Haha! Dream on! You think you have a romantic boyfriend like Professor Thorne?" "Who is it? Sounds impressive!" She replied vaguely, "You'll see soon enough." The next day, the observatory's official social account announced that Lucas had discovered a new star, and he had named it "S".

his voice faltered as she thought of the tragic end to this story. " Even if it's the last thing I do. I will risk my life to put an end to his reign of terror. History shall not repeat itself. I will not allow him to win yet again, and I will not allow him to harm my loved ones." Felix sat up on the bed properly. " What do you mean even if it's the last thing you do? No. I will not allow you to die. How can you speak about your death like that? You just said you would never leave me."

I tell them as bring Ash onto my lap. "Myself, Chris and also Nate here are known as Lycans, Ash here is a werewolf shifter, and is pretty much the last of her kind." I say as Kim and Toni both look at me with wide eyes. "So, it's true then." We hear Paul say as he walks over to me and Ash and puts the back of his hand to her fourhead. A low growl slips mast my lips as another male is touching my mate. "What the hell are you talking about?" Kim shouts with tears in her eyes.

The struggles and sorrows of that other life were finally sealed away—gently, tenderly, by the hands of time. -THE END-

When my wife, Rosalie Wood, had her first meal after she regained consciousness, the attending doctor, Ethan Joeman, took my seat. He cut the steak while he pointed at her rosy face and looked at me with open defiance. “Do you know how medical miracles happen? It is not because of your constant presence. It is because of my in‑depth treatment.” My fingers that held the knife and fork turned pale. Ethan grew even more brazen. His feet rubbed against my wife's calves under the table. “A person in a vegetative state can still feel things. Every night after you left, I did awakening therapy for her. She said her body could not move, yet the sense of being conquered made her feel as though her

The mafia heir became a man defined not by violence, but by charity. At galas and benefit dinners, when reporters asked why, I gave them the same answer, always steady, always true: “My wife believed every life was worth saving. I only try to honor her.” I never remarried. The world called me ruthless in business, merciful in charity, but I remained a man with one loyalty, one love. Decades later, when death finally came for me, I welcomed it. My last request was simple: bury me beside Olivia. And so we lay together at last, beneath the same marble headstone, her name carved above mine.

The candle that was shaped like a 2 on the cake felt like a joke. At the end of his call, as if Jason Smith felt guilty, he added, "I've neglected you lately, so once I'm done with this busy period, shall I take you to see the aurora?" I hung up, and our home went completely silent. Even the air seemed to be mocking my marriage. What a failure all of this was. It was at this time that Jason's assistant sent me a message on WhatsApp, asking in that familiar way what I wanted reimbursed this time and telling me to just name it.