Interlude In A Book Novels & Stories

Hey Loveliess!!! I'm so excited, we're back for a second book!. For those of you just finding this book, it's alright, you can read it as a standalone. For the returning readers, I have something special for you. A prologue is set before the beginning of this book. I would have posted it as a regular chapter, buttt, some beta readers did mention they found it confusing. So, I'll just drop it here for those of you who understand!

***** Book Two: Betrothed to the Ruthless Barbarian King Leila’s point of view I just ran out of pages, I closed the book slowly, reluctantly….. like the story would disappear forever if I shut it too fast. It didn’t, it never did. That was the problem with reading fictional books. The stories didn’t end when you reach the last page, they stayed. They clung to your chest, wrapped around your thoughts, sank into your bones like something permanent, leaving you stranded in the last paragraph like someone pulled the ground beneath your feet mid step.

I thought to myself and started washing my body so I can go and fight with Kiki about this damn outfit. PSA: This book is intending as a series intermission, while I work on book 4 to get it out sometime next month. So expect only 1 chapter, and if you get 2 scream excitedly. thank you guys for your support!

The author knows that the build is often more interesting than the release. Take the garden scene. The way it lingers on small details. The heat of the sun. The texture of grass. The sound of breathing. By the time anything happens, the reader is already invested. I’ve been thinking about the missing middle section of chapter twelve. Based on context, it seems like the scene moves from the ballroom to a private chamber. But the transition is abrupt. I wonder what was originally there. Do you ever think about filling in those gaps? Academically speaking, of course.

my wolf grimaces uncomfortably. “You’re not wrong on that one,” I shudder, quickly flipping the page over. The further I delve into the book, the further deteriorations I can see to its neglected condition. I can’t help but notice the thread holding the book together has begun to fray, struggling to contain the historical accounts listed inside. Its layout subtly begins to shift the more I push on, gradually altering with each entry included allowing me to differentiate between the multiple rulers listed inside.

Dear Readers, We have reached the end of another book. It's always bittersweet to publish the final chapter of a book. These last few chapters may have felt like we skipped some things. Yes, we glossed over some moments as they were less significant to the story, and trying to write a chapter of Alexander or Delilah sitting in the therapist's office wasn't exactly compelling, nor was it enough to fill a chapter. Please don't worry- there are always chances to get glimpses of those smaller moments in more detail in future books or possible bonus stories.

As she’s about to leave the room, someone called. “Hey, I’m leaving the hotel. My car service is waiting,” she talked to the person on the other line. “I can’t wait to see you here. We’ve so much to see and talk about,” Noah said. Cela gave her room one final look. This is the place where she leaves her old self. “We wanted to go to a specific place and it didn’t matter if the road was rough and the journey was long. In the end, we found different places for ourselves but these places were the destinations where we were truly meant to go,” she said to herself. The fourth book begins at chapter 1 in Paris. The End.

I murmured softly, the words rolling off my tongue as I carefully pulled the book from its place. Its weight settled comfortably in my hands as I opened it, curiosity leading me deeper into its pages. The contents were a tapestry of dreamscapes—vivid explanations of different types of dreams and their myriad meanings. It wasn’t precisely what I had been searching for, but it felt intriguing, like a doorway to insights I hadn’t considered before. “It wouldn’t hurt to read a little,” I mused inwardly, closing the book gently before tucking it under my arm and stepping out of the aisle with quiet resolve.

But none of these books speaks of the ritual that Paul was speaking of. I closed the last book on the list, setting it above the four others that I’ve binge-read. I threw the comforter from bunching around my waist, swung my legs on the side of the bed and padded to the kitchen. I returned to my bed with the bottle of Chardonnay, laptop on my lap, while continuously glancing at my phone. Elijah was still radio silent, and I was feeling restless about it. My phone chimed. I grabbed it so quickly that my computer tumbled on my bed. It’s Eloisa, reminding me of our plans for the weekend. I sighed and typed a reply.

As she settled back onto her bed, she took a deep breath, deciding to focus on the world within the pages of her book, seeking solace and temporary escape from the whirlwind of emotions that the encounter had stirred within her. She clutched the book tightly, her fingers tracing the embossed cover. She flipped open to the page where she had left off, attempting to immerse herself in the story once more. The words on the page blurred momentarily as her mind wandered, still contemplating the enigmatic figure who had momentarily graced her window. The room regained its quietude, the fleeting encounter leaving its mark on Lilith's thoughts. She silently vowed to tread carefully, aware of the all