Journal 3 Pages Novels & Stories

📖(✿˶˘ ³˘)~♡ JAIME'S POV (｡❛ᴗ❛｡)📖 I'm currently in the office right now reviewing the manuscripts for publishing. Jericho passes his team works to me, and only three complete the manuscript for this month. But that's ok since we don't rush creative novelists to rush their work. We only give them deadlines as a cut-off for reviewing and publishing.

She saw the journal on my desk, the pages covered in fresh ink. “What’s that?”

Alex explained, his back still facing us. "Kind of like saying without Oxygen, you can't breathe." "What is that anyway?" Nancy asked. "I think it's a couple's journal? Every other page is a response to the previous one. Two people explaining their love to one another in incredibly raw ways.” I quickly responded, reading some keywords from the ink-filled pages. "Read something," She chimed in again. Flipping somewhere towards the middle of the journal, I landed on a random excerpt and began to read word for word.

I started. “Don’t you dare!” That single word cut me off like a blade. He continued, “Listen miss, I ran it through every database we have here manually. Pages 4 through 7 are lifted almost verbatim from Dr. Miriam Kessler’s 2019 journal article. The transitions were clever. You tried to disguise it, but you weren’t clever enough.” He smirked. I felt the floor drop out from under me. My mouth went dry. I flipped my eyes beside his table. I reminded myself how I made sure to be so careful. I thought I really was.

And somehow managed to keep those secrets hidden for seven years after their deaths. Seraphina swallowed. "What else is in the journal?" Damian immediately turned the page. Nothing. Blank. The next page was empty. And the one after that. And the one after that. Frustration surged through her. "No." She grabbed the journal carefully. Flipping through the remaining pages. Most were empty. A few contained scattered notes. Random dates. Phone numbers. Cryptic symbols. Nothing useful. Nothing obvious. Until something slipped from between two pages and landed softly on the desk.

The elevator climbed so fast my stomach lagged three floors behind. No music, no numbers—just a private brass panel humming with quiet menace and the faint scent of ozone from the motor. My portfolio case banged against my hip, the leather strap worn soft from years of subway rides, late-night shoots, and too many unpaid invoices. At thirty-two, Lena Moreau—freelance photographer, perpetual hustler—had learned to chase light in any corner of this city, but nothing prepared me for the hush that greeted me when the doors slid open on the 58th floor.

Jace DAYS BEFORE The bed creaked in protest as I reached for the leather-bound journal which had turned into a close companion for the last couple of weeks. Forbidden knowledge had been inked into every page with intentionality I could only thank the author for. I opened to the page I had dog-eared for days, sinking into the information there.

He asked, taking a seat in front of my desk. “Yes. These journals were left by my parents to help me for the first three years after meeting my mate. Three books for the first three years.” I said and lifted the journal in my hand, “First year.” He looked at me holding the journal with interest. “So, this is their advice?” “I guess. I haven’t read it yet. I thought now might be a good time to start reading it, but I can do it later tonight.” I said putting it down. “Did you need something from me?”

The werewolves who were terrified and heartbroken after losing Alpha Rou are now relieved because they can't lose Alpha Gior either—especially without an heir. "What's the situation right now?" Gior asked. "Just how long have I been resting?" Gior questioned for the second time. He felt like his whole body was being crumpled. "It's been three days, Alpha," the salutary answered as he handed a glass of water without being told to.

And remember, beneath the fiery heat of desire, there beats a heart that craves love, understanding, and connection. Thank you for joining me on this journey. I can't wait for you to experience the magic of the Spicy One-Shot Collection. With love and passion, Unusualdee Passion Pages “Passion Pages isn't just any reflection journal; it’s a powerful tool for those who wish to accept their sensuality.” — Unusualdee. After diving into this collection of short erotic stories, you absolutely need to grab the reflection journal designed to process all those swirling emotions and tantalizing thoughts that spring up while reading!