Forget Me Not Book Novels & Stories

Chloe asks excitedly. “No. “ I sigh. “A couple of the locals are getting together tonight for dinner and they asked me to come. The owner of the house you all rented, which is phenomenal by the way, is hosting it.” I tell her as I start unpacking my bags to find something to wear. When I open my suitcase I find many items that I don’t remember buying. I brush my fingers on a lacy piece of lingerie but really steals the cake is a barely there bikini and the underwear has a hole in the crotch.

"You won't remember me, or my name. But I will remember you. You're the she-wolf that almost stole the title of Alpha from me. The she-wolf that almost ruined plans five years in the making. And I won't let that happen. Those herbs will erase your memories. Unfortunately, you have a mate bond with James, so I won't be able to erase it entirely, but I can make it useless to you." Elizabeth felt her feet give way beneath her, and she collided with the ground. ________________________________ Elizabeth woke up groggy, holding her head. Had she collapsed outside her own front door? She grasped her head. Has she tripped over something? What happened? She glanced at the front step, a note left on

"Memories from a realm you do not belong to are not yours. Every adventure you seek in the new world won't be in your possession once you go back to your world." Did this mean if time travel existed and that if she took part in it, she wouldn't remember anything from the new world? Like she would lose her memories? Thalia doubted it. She flipped through the book, inspecting it more cautiously. She wasn't exactly a superstitious person in any way, so there was no way all this was real. Shrugging her shoulders, she searched for a pen in her bag and recited the popular saying under her breath, "There's no harm in trying…"

The atmosphere of the island was serene and warm, despite the nearness of the sea and the lightness of swimwear. — At the center of the square There stood a massive book, bound in dark brown leather. Its pages were thick, as if made to bear the heaviest of emotions. It lay open to a blank page. This was the Book of the Lovers’ Remembrance. It was said that every name written within it could never be erased, never forgotten, but would be immortalized with the island itself. Naomi approached slowly, her eyes gleaming with pure wonder, curiosity mingled with an inexplicable sense of awe. Adel followed her, stood beside her, and gently placed his hand on her shoulder.

Hidden behind a row of business biographies was an old leather journal. The edges had faded with age. He opened it carefully. Every page carried a date. Every page carried a memory. Every page was about one person. Amara. He turned to the final entry. The ink had begun to fade. It was dated exactly seven years earlier. Today I lost the woman I planned to spend my life with. If she is happier without me, l'll let her go. But I don't think I'll ever understand why she left without looking back. Ethan closed the journal.

At the bottom of the page, written in jagged, hurried strokes of dark ink, was a single sentence that sent a paralyzing chill straight to my core: “If I ever forget the truth… don't let me trust my own memories.”

Don't be stupid—" But before he could finish his little speech, Michael's voice boomed from the stage. He said slowly, his gaze sweeping over the crowd, "Actually, I already knew Aurora was at that party." The whole room froze. Audrey, my parents, and even I were stunned. Wait. Did that mean he remembered me that night? Even under the influence of the drug? My chest tightened as a bad feeling prickled at me. Audrey, though, thought Michael was finally speaking in her defense. Her chin lifted high again, her voice smug and loud.

"She's so bright, so amazing. It's okay to feel a little jealous.” "However, remember, you're Mrs. Ferguson." He shifted the conversation, his voice growing serious, "Remember to act properly. Let's pretend that the last few days were just a bad dream, okay? From now on, we'll live happily." Tania closed her eyes, and when she opened them, they were calm. She whispered, "Okay." She planned to forget everything about that place, including Samuel, once she left. Samuel let out a sigh of relief, loosened his grip, and gave her shoulder a pat, "Go get dressed. I've had some new jewelry sent up for you.”

The weight of it. It was a collection of essays by a writer she had mentioned once in a conversation four months ago. She had said the name in passing while talking about something else entirely and she had moved on and she had not thought about it again. He had heard it. He had found the book. He had sent it with no note because no note was the right amount of note. Not a letter. Not an explanation. Not I was thinking about you or I remembered you said. Just the book. Just the proof of the remembering without the performance of the remembering.

Only after she heard me slam the bedroom door did she grit her teeth, punch the door in frustration, and storm off. I turned on the bedside lamp calmly and flipped open a magazine. The reason I dared to make such a scene today was simple—I had been reborn. In my previous life, a fire broke out when Irene had gone to be with Winston. My home became my pyre. Now that I was given a second chance, I wasn't going to let them walk all over me again. Since she wanted to run off to another man so desperately, I saw no reason to stand in her way. However, I'd make sure the whole neighborhood saw exactly what kind of people they were.