Just One Look Novel Novels & Stories

At least there, I can have peace. When I arrived at the garden, I felt the peace hugging me. 'Finally.' Away from those stabbing gazes, away from that annoying expression of Rosine, away from that indifferent male lead. Amongst the books I brought with me, there's one with an inconspicuous book with a simple red cover. "From One Space to Another" is the title of the book. It is a romance story about a girl who can teleport from one place to another and a boy who was from another parallel universe.

The skin of a man who had not hurried through whatever he had just done. He stopped in the middle of the room. He looked at me. And I understood, in the two seconds before he said anything, that the first look was not going to be like the look he had given me when he walked through the door. This one was different. This one had arrived. The first look the one from Chapter One, if I were telling this as a story and not as a life had been the look of a man registering a variable. A noticed thing. Something that did not fit the pattern. Efficient. Catalogued.

He took a somewhat worn-out wallet from the inner pocket of his black suit. In the wallet's lining was a yellowed photograph. In the photograph, I was fresh from my wolf awakening and was wearing a white dress. My eyes were shrunken up from smiling as I held a sunflower windmill. My background was the tree-lined path of the werewolf academy. It was taken on our first date. He kept it close to him but never admitted to me that he cared. He reached out his hand, covered in horribly scarred burns, to touch the inscription on the tombstone, but his fingertips trembled violently in mid-air.

Every detail was sharp: the faint scent of her perfume, the soft glow on her skin, the way her eyes flickered when she noticed me noticing her. I didn’t know then that she would ruin me. That she would haunt my dreams, my thoughts, my every waking moment. I didn’t know that every glance after this one would be charged with something forbidden, something intoxicating. All I knew was this: The bride shouldn’t have looked at me first. But God, my chest ached for her to look again and consume me entirely. I wanted her to look again.

How was that not okay? Christopher sighed. "Stay here for another four hours, and I'll secretly let you out." And so, I, the female protagonist of a spicy romance novel, was jailed for eight hours for throwing a sultry look at a pure-romance novel's male protagonist. Now, one thing was for sure—Rowan Gifford was a man I couldn't get.

she gasped, eyes popping out with a twinkle of relief "You found me.That was quick." Hie guys kindly check out my other book here on goodnovel titled A BLOODSTAINED I DO. The book is a romantic suspence thriller i hope that makes sense haha. It speaks of two friends who fooled an 'innocent' blind girl into marrying an assassin but it seems she just might just be the the one fooling all of them. A tale of massive twists and turns and its COMPLETE. Do check it out you wont regret! Leave a review too! Much love

Without giving a response, he reached for his bag- a small brown leather bag that was placed close to him on the floor. “Here,” it was a novel, and that made her gaze narrow on it, then slowly, their eyes locked. She hesitated, staring at it longer than expected, but after his hand fidgeted due to staying in an uncomfortable position for long, she reached for it. “It should help,” it was Damon's baritone voice. “Hope in the dark?” She asked, with her eyes fixed on the novel and a hint of confusion playing in her eyes. “By Rebecca Salnit, yes,” he completed, and a sip of the coffee followed. “You should try it out.”

There are a few different ones,I Am Wearing a white summer dress in one and we are standing by a fountain, I'm smiling and looking at him. i turn the page and stop at a note;it must be the one that fell out ofthe other book the one that felt of the bookshelve.I began to read it,taking every single,detail in.,They say you fall in love only once.,That is a lie.Every time I look at you,I fall in love all over again.

She immediately lowered her head, looking guilty. "Heh." With a quiet, bitter laugh, I turned and walked away without looking back.

“Henry: Milan’s Wild Card.” Inside one of the suites, Harold Walker stood near the window, gazing at the city. The square brimmed with tourists and locals alike, though today their attention was skewed by the massive banners and billboards advertising the event. Harold’s reflection in the glass looked every inch the composed billionaire — tailored suit, silk tie, cufflinks that glinted like stars. Yet inside that perfect exterior, his chest was tight.