Ghost Of Love Novels & Stories

Suddenly, Lucas greeted the old woman. "Greetings, Madam, how is your day?" I was about to laugh when Lucas greeted the lady. As if the lady could see him—but then the old woman put down her mask and looked straight at Lucas. "Lucas!" the old woman said happily. Lucas reached for the old lady's hand and kissed it. His handsome figure and polite smile was very charming, "Madam is becoming more beautiful day by day." !!! I was now speechless. Lucas could touch her? There was only one explanation. The old woman was also a ghost. I looked at the employee who was massaging the old woman. That was when I noticed that the back of her head was bleeding.

“Oh my god dear. Look at you looking so pretty. I do not want to go but I have to my dear- he said getting emotional. Seeing him my tears are on verge. I know it all fake just to show the world. I just looked at him emotionless. he hugged me and whispered in my ears ,”everything will be ok , if you don’t trust my word trust your love “ he whispered making me confused and frown ,why is he telling me all this and now . a tear rolled down my eyes. If he would have said this three days before I would have believed him but now all my hope is cursed, how to trust my love when he has nothing for me except hate . “Oh no no no don’t cry. Your makeup will get ruined”- he said

“Little ghost.” Next: Shatterpoint

Our souls are where our good and bad intentions lie. “You don't want that sweetheart that’s for the humans. If you want to feel like you're up in the air surrounded by purple skies, then you want Sparkle.” Ghost looks over his table, and when his eyes land on shimmering pink dust. “You snort it like cocaine. Have you done that before, sweetheart?” “No, but you can show me.” She rubs his thigh again as she leans a little more into him, allowing her breasts to touch him lightly.

Used. The car skidded across Lawson's marble front walk, and chandeliers cast golden light downward. Clicked camermen shutters and flashes lit the evening to incandescent white. Laughter, money- and pretence-conceived laughter, as the clinking of champagne glasses. My countenance was concealed in darkness, and individuals were before me. Whispers circulated within the crowd like snakes. She did appear after all. How sad. I'm sure she'd like another boy to ruin.

he murmured. “I still do.” “Then why do you touch it when you’re mad?” Ghost’s throat worked. “Maybe it reminds me what I lost.” The air between them trembled. For a heartbeat, Ghost thought he might actually close the space might actually reach for him but instead he stood, walking away before he did something he couldn’t take back.

The way he had in the basement library, when he was trying to decide if he could trust me. "Ghost doesn't take money," he said. "He doesn't take favors. He takes pieces of people. Memories. Secrets. Things you can't get back." "Then we make sure we don't give him anything we can't afford to lose." --- The number on Miriam's card connected after two rings. A voice answered. Not male. Not female. Something in between. Processed through a modulator, scrambled beyond recognition. "You reached the line," the voice said. "State your business."

Maybe it is called humanity, I thought. " ohhh...don't lie to yourself. If it is humanity, you could have felt sad but there would be no tears in your eyes. If it is humanity you would never feel his pain as it is your wound. Why don't you agree that you still love him? " my stupid heart mocked at me.

This man here was the death of me. My feet pushed me forward until I was standing toe-to-toe with him. Elevating my height by standing on my tippy toes so that my face inched close to his, I spoke. “You seem to have been expecting a declaration of my love and undying loyalty for you, Ghost, but I’d rather die.” My lips ghosted over his, my hand sliding into his blazer. “Perhaps I deluded myself that such feelings existed when you had me trembling through series of orgasms, but that was just it. Delusion.” My teeth clamped his bottom lip so hard the metallic taste of blood graced my tongue.

Chaos sighed as his apartment was deafeningly silent before he added, “Theresa was my first love…” She faced him angrily, “How many times do you have to rub those words on my face?!” She angrily yelled. “She… she had died,” Chaos confessed, his voice cracking. The words hung heavy in the air, a chilling confirmation of Florence’s worst fears. Theresa, the ghost of the past, was not just a distant memory. She was a part of his life, a love that had tragically ended.