Light My Fire Book Novels & Stories

"Did you call me a crybaby?" His body rears up, his front legs as high as three men, and flames shoot from his mouth as he... laughs? The idiot is laughing. I notice the lighter shade of his underbelly and fist the hand that is missing a blade. His belly is the kill zone where I will end his miserable life. I look around and see a door about eight feet away. The heat from his laughing fire heats my skin. I run for the door. With all the bad luck I've had it's a miracle that the door opens and I can slip inside.

"I don't believe in miracles anymore, Ben. I believe in stubbornly refusing to die. There's a difference." "Is there?" he asked, his voice softer now. "Sometimes I think your stubborn refusal to give up is the closest thing to a miracle I've seen since The Burning." The mention of The Burning made my chest tighten, as it always did. The memories were still too fresh, too raw. I could still smell the smoke, hear the screms, see the sky turning that terrible shade of orange as the world caught fire. I pushed the thoughts away, focusing instead on putting one foot in front of the other.

Livia took the appraisal report and flipped to the last page, glanced at the result, smirked, and then reached out her hand towards him, saying, "Lighter, do you have one?" The man hesitantly asked, "What do you want to do?" Livia, "Stop talking nonsense and give it to me quickly." The man no longer hesitated and had to take out a lighter, handing it to her. Livia held the report in one hand and gripped the lighter in the other. With a "sizzle," the flame of the lighter ignited a corner of the report. Soon, the fire grew bigger and bigger, devouring all the reports of the paper industry.

He was right — I never should have cared in the first place. There was nothing left to care about even then. I cut ties with every company chat group without a second thought. As the sky began to lighten, I made my way home but ran into Marvin at the elevator. He glanced at me like I was nothing, scorned, and quickly looked away. "Spent the night here mulling things over? Come to any realizations?" I hit the elevator button, my voice dripping with indifference. "Yeah, I've had an epiphany. I'm done."

Charlotte stuck her tongue out awkwardly and replied, “That’s not necessary—” Before she could finish her sentence, Zachary had already thrown the lighter into the metal bucket. The moment the lighter touched the gasoline, a fire broke out, and the three photo books with more than 300 photos were reduced to ashes in a second. “Do you feel hurt now?”

For some reason, the smoke didn't bother me like it would usually do and even as McKenzie smoked her brown thick sticks ,I found it very alluring rather---yeah maybe the smoke was messing with my head. Speaking of McKenzie, I turned my face to look at her---at some point I had moved to sit between Oliver and Bani on the other couch. My eyes fell on McKenzie's pink lips that wrapped around the cigar and her veiny lower arms as she lit up the cigar with a lighter. For a moment ,all the voices ,laughters and music, everything around me zoned in as my eyes focused on nothing but the woman of my dreams. It was like in slow motion as she inhaled from the stick and Karan said something next to her

But first, I had to survive. The sound of footsteps outside snapped me back to reality. I peered through the window and saw them—Xavier and his men, their faces hard, their eyes cold. They’d come for me. I moved quickly, my hands steady despite the storm inside me. The lighter felt heavy in my palm as I flicked it open. The kitchen gas hissed as I ignited it, the flame catching with a soft whoosh. I backed away, my eyes locked on the growing fire. Let it burn. Let it all burn.

Although this graduation painting had not yet been completed, it was far superior to any of my previous works. The moment Willow saw the painting, her expression subtly shifted. I caught the flicker of greed and jealousy in her eyes. I looked around the room. In the next moment, I did something that left everyone completely flabbergasted. I pulled out a lighter and flicked it. Then, I brought the flame close to one corner of the canvas. "Cassidy! What are you doing?" Jess shouted sharply almost immediately. Needless to say, she was the first to react. The flame licked at the edge of the canvas and spread quickly. My masterpiece, the product of my passion and skill, burned down to ash before

I poured it on the dead body of the Cleaner. I stood at the front door. I held the lighter I had taken from the dead man. I flicked it. The flame danced in the dark. "For Lyra," I whispered. I dropped the lighter onto the oil-soaked rug. The fire roared to life. It was hungry. It raced up the curtains. It licked at the ceiling. I walked out the front door. I got into the car. I drove to the gate. I smashed through the iron bars with the sedan.

"Actually, tell him Mira Moretti sent her regards. Now get out before you melt." My men moved through the aisles, splashing gasoline over crates of expensive drugs and imported weapons. The smell was sharp and sweet. I pulled a silver lighter from my pocket, the one Salvatore gave me for my eighteenth birthday. I flicked it. The small flame danced in the dark warehouse. "Burn it," I said. I tossed the lighter onto a trail of gas. Whoosh. The fire climbed the walls in seconds, turning the dark room into a bright, orange hell. I walked out slowly, the heat at my back, feeling the roar of the flames in my bones.