Love Is War Author Novels & Stories

“You lied to me. You made me believe that you were loyal to me, only to find out that you had been seeing another man behind my back. And now I confront you about it, you deny it!” “I know, and I’m sorry,” Adelia said, tears welling up in her eyes. “I never meant to hurt you. You have to understand that.” Russe shook his head, his eyes glinting with anger. “Understand? How can I understand when all you’ve done is lie to me? I trusted you, Adelia. I loved you. And all you did was throw it all away.” “I know,” Adelia repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “But please, Russe. I truly loved you. My feelings for you were real.... I... I loved you, until I met him.”

Julian opened it with shaking hands, and his world collapsed. Dear Mr. Marchetti, I have found the soldier who was with you and Mr. Carter in Normandy. He has given a sworn statement. Mr. Carter did not save your life out of heroism. He knew he was dying of his wounds. He bribed the soldier to shoot at you, then stepped in front of the bullet. He did this so you would owe him a debt, so you would take care of Lydia for the rest of your life. You were a fool to believe them.

instead of "burying my crime." My car could barely move as the crowd closed in around it. Sylvia stood at the center, arm raised, finger pointed straight at me. "This man is rich because, like every capitalist, he robbed working people blind. That is the only reason he stands where he does. Vernon Inc. must be investigated."

"I'm sure your participation in the weapons program will be enriching. The nation needs men like you." "I'll do my best," I replied, my chest swelling with a sense of patriotism, as I had been dreaming to serve the nation after I enrolled in military school back in the day. And I wouldn't have dragged my feet for so long if I hadn't fallen in love with Claire. - The days following my arrival were busy but felt fulfilling, as I would rise as early as seven and only go to bed past ten. The lab became my favorite place, as I often hang out with my colleagues to discuss plans, data and solutions.

“Why are you destroying our peaceful lives? Can’t you see that a lot of people are suffering because of you?” The enemy commander blinked several times before shrugging his shoulders. “I love wars,” he answered. “I love the thrills and excitement.” “But, the people, the innocent….” “People suffered every day.” He shrugged callously. “War or not.” “No, you can’t do this.”

“And just like that, I wasn’t the girl who danced on stages anymore. I wasn’t the pawn, or the contract, or the captive. I was Lena. A wife. A mother. A woman who chose love, even in the ashes of war. We began with ink on paper…a contract that should have ruined me. But here we stand, bound not by signatures, but by love. No chains. No conditions. Just us.” THE END!! Or is it?

he said, low enough that it felt like confession, “I didn’t choose love. I chose war. And you walked into both with your head high.” I swallowed—not from fear, but recognition. “And you,” I whispered, “didn’t crown me by blood. You crowned me by standing beside me when you could have walked ahead.” His mouth tilted. Razor and reverence. “Then let’s give them a dynasty they choke on.” So we kissed again, slower this time—not the calm before the storm, but the promise in the eye of it. Because people think love makes you weak in war. They’ve never seen what love makes you willing to destroy.

And then we ran. Not away from the truth. But toward it. Because love isn’t soft—it’s armor. And we were going to war.

I_" It has been decided,' he strangled. 'I do not love him.' 'Love is weakness in times of war. We need all the hatred we can get to win this war.' 'You can't marry me off to him, father. if you ever loved mother before you were betrothed to her, why can't I have the same privilege?' 'I was a man of war. I never gave two hoots about the word, let alone the feeling.' he had been blunt. 'But as we got to know each other, she taught me what love was, and I forever will be grateful to her.' 'I want to be wed to the man I fall in love with. Not the man you choose for me. Can't you see that?' I yelled in tears.

“Are you really going to start a war in her name?” I stayed silent, letting the question linger between us. Wars weren’t friendly disputes or minor quarrels. No, wars were bloodbaths that stretched for months, maybe years. A reaper’s call sweeping through the souls of everyone who dared cross its path, innocent or guilty alike. Would I really do it? Would I bring terror into years of peace for the sake of a woman? “Yes.” I finally said, arms crossed. “I wouldn’t be the first to start a war for love, and I won’t be the last.”