Hate List Book Novels & Stories

They were all adjusted alphabetically. He then randomly picked a book. ‘If I had your Face – By Frances Cha’ He read the title. He opened the book. On the first page, there was her name and a date written. The date when she either got the book or started reading it. He flipped through the pages. She had underlined some context. Marked notes somewhere. Scribbled replies to some lines. He laughed to himself. There was this line she had highlighted, “In New York, you can talk to anyone about anything at any time and have a conversation so long you'll fall a little in love with that person, and then never see them again.”

well I have another reason to hate her By now I thought first to check whether is an innocent or culprit but it's enough now she will have to bear every pain for what she has done till now with my country Now the actual game will begin, the game of hate and love. Be ready Ahana because I am going to destroy you in hate with the weapon of love.

Fear is a weapon if you know how to use it. I look out across the others. Their faces are hollowed by exhaustion. But some of them… some of them burn with something deeper. Hate. That’s what I’m looking for. Not the blind, childish kind—but the cold, sharp-edged hate born from knowing your enemy. From watching them destroy everything you loved. “Wolves are not your brothers,” I say, loud enough for every one of them to hear. “They are not misunderstood. They are not noble. They are monsters. And monsters don’t deserve mercy.”

As long as they left us alone, we felt we could leave them alone. But our books and everything they taught us might be full of false accusations. I've been taught how much werewolves hate and despise us. They kill us without a second thought. They are ruthless, vicious and wild.. They hate us and would never accept us being amongst them, let alone taking one as a partner or mate!

"You must be familiar with the book of Proverbs then. There's a couple of verses there that I know like the back of my palm. They're like my everyday maxim. "There the Lord told us that there are six things he hates and seven are an abomination unto him; a proud look, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that deviseth wicked imaginations, feet that be swift in running to mischief, a false witness that speaketh lies, and he that soweth discord among brethren.

I was twenty-five years old and terrified. The book was released on a Tuesday. By Friday, it hit the bestseller list. "It's number three," Rebecca called to tell me. "And climbing. Early reviews are incredible." I read some reviews online. They ranged from glowing to hateful. Some readers connected deeply with my story. Others called me a traitor to humanity. "Don't read the negative ones," Kyle advised. "They don't matter." But they did matter. Every hateful comment reminded me why I'd written the book. To combat that exact hatred with truth and love.

The ones that had survived every version of him and every place he'd lived. Her finger stopped on a dark green spine, the gold lettering almost entirely rubbed away. She tilted it toward her. Walt Whitman. *Leaves of Grass.* The most worn book on the shelf — the cover soft with handling, the corners rounded, the spine held together by old glue and what appeared to be sheer stubbornness. She pulled it out carefully and it fell open in her hands the way books fall open to the pages they've visited most, the paper remembering where it's been taken before.

He barked. I was short of words and sobbed silently, as he turned and left without looking back. He didn’t even want to hear my side of the story… but why would he? I was the woman he hated… Anger, pain and hatred seared through me like an active volcano. I felt like a thousand spears had pierced through my heart as I wiped my tears. Elijah Reed, from now on, you’re dead to me.

“And so is love.” “Then it’s a good thing I love you.” I tell him softly. “There’s no more room for hate in my heart when it comes to Michael Black. In due time, I’ll learn about this darkness you speak of, but until then, I’m content with the Michael Black I have come to know.” His breath shakes. “And in the days when this Michael Black is nonexistent, Ada, what happens then?” “I’ll be angry and disappointed,” I smack a kiss on his lips with a chuckle. “And I’ll smack you across the face, curse at you…” Michael chuckles, and that warms my heart. “But I will never hate you.”

“She has been by service for six years. With her, you will learn the dos and don'ts of this harem.” A harem? Wait did they bring me to the harem?? I almost yelled at her. Annabelle told me stories about harem. One man and a hundred wives. With each struggling to be his favorite. I never wanted to share my husband with me. Another thought came to my mind, just when I was about to protest. If Ivar was married to many women, he was going to be less concern and forget about my existence . ~which makes it a brilliant idea.~