Icebreaker The Book Novels & Stories

I whisper. This time, the tears don’t feel like weakness. They feel like healing. Like something finally beginning. ************************ Unspoken Desires - Book 3…. Coming Soon

There was ice waiting for me. A season to win. A future to claim, not tiptoe around. A story to rewrite in my own blade marks. This time, I wasn’t stepping aside. Not for ghosts. Not for history. Not for anyone. Not again. Never again.

He has to get to his child. We can push the door open far enough for me to slip into the opening. It is handy to be small sometimes. I enter the room, seeing the cause of the obstruction is a bookshelf. It must have tipped and lodged itself against the door during the earthquake. I tip the bookshelf back against the wall, letting Brixtius have access to the room. A room with furniture strewn all over the place. "Eurydice!" I yell out, hearing her cries from under a fallen dresser. Brixtius moves with speed and lifts the wooden furniture like it weighs nothing.

She said while taking another pill. "Jack rea-"I was interrupted by another knock at the door. I got up and walked back over to the door expecting it to be one of the boys. "Ew can you just go away already..." I said opening the door annoyed then soon realizing it was room service. "Oh my lord I'm so sorry I thought you were someone else!" I exclaimed to the man standing in the doorway. "No no it's okay, here you are." He said handing us our ice cream. "Thank you"

Her living room window allows her to see the beautiful night sky adorned with bright lights shaming the stars and even the moon. She imagines Nate and Nina looking at that same beautiful sky after having a lovely dinner while she dines on hot noodle and a cup of coffee. "I'm so pathetic. How did I become like this?" she asked herself. She's about to call for food delivery when Ivy's call came in. She already knows exactly what she's going to ask her. "I just talked to the TV producer. She's okay with the third book being launched in January next year. She told me they would broadcast the series in three weekends in February," Ivy said.

It was 8:30am. "I have to go check on Noel.." I mumbled. I got up from bed and brushed my teeth and headed out of my room. I stopped in my tracks when I noticed Hazel sleeping peacefully on the couch in the living room with a book in her hand. "Did she fall asleep while reading?" I smiled and walked towards her. On my way, I ended up bumping into the marble vase on the table beside her and it shattered on the floor with a loud clank. Surprised by the loud noise, Hazel woke up and stared at me, and then at the floor where the broken pieces laid.

I shout at him. "You sound really sexy swearing like the cute little bitch, wifey," I hear the voice and that voice isn't of his assistant. It's... [If you reading the book do comment please.]

Hey beautiful humans. Welcome to The Chiseler BB4 (Blackbook 4) of the Woods series. Have you checked out BB1, BB2, and BB3 yet? If yes, congratulations🙂 if no, pls do check it out. Love you all much much. Your Author Zagzahzlau. ~••~ "The shade, tsk tsk, I don't like it," I said whilst punching my phone. My friends--Marila and Bennie--had managed to pull me out of my cocoon from the comfort of my beddings tenderness on a Saturday afternoon to the Mall out of my very own wish.

• She reached for my hand, and I let her take it, understanding that this particular vulnerability — admitted fully, without the careful editing I’d practiced for over a decade — felt different from anything I’d allowed myself before. “Perfection protected you once,” she said. “I need you to actually hear that, because I think it’s important. The version of yourself you built after that championship, the Ice Wall, it wasn’t irrational. It was a survival strategy that made sense for a nineteen-year-old with no other tools available to him. But it can’t be allowed to keep running your entire life, Sky. What protected you at nineteen is actively costing you at twenty-eight.” “What did it cost m

Just as she extended her arm to set the broth down by Ethan's hand, the slate on his desk lit up, my name flashing brightly across the screen. Ethan's pulse spiked at the sight of the communication. In his rush to grab the slate, his heavy forearm caught the edge of the horn. Crack. The vessel shattered against the stone floor, the scalding dark liquid splashing across his bare wrists, the cedar desk, and his heavy winter furs. The secretary let out a frightened gasp, her scent instantly souring with panic as she stammered out apologies. Ignoring the burn on his skin and the mess on his clothes, Ethan grabbed the slate, frantically wiping the dark liquid off the glass with his sleeve. In his