Love Is War Author Novels & Stories

The question carried an uncomfortable edge, yet the room stayed quiet because every one of them wanted an answer. I spun the ring on my finger, taking a long breath to steady myself. "Honestly, I had my own reasons for becoming a war correspondent. But the second I landed, reality hit me. I saw families with their homes reduced to ash and nowhere to run, kids who grew up treating air sirens and gunfire like a normal Tuesday, and way too many people who died in the crossfire. "War is bloody and unforgiving. Standing out there in the middle of it, my perspective changed completely. Then came that phone call."

When Uncle Christopher found out, he severed all ties with the Linds and hasn't spoken to her since. I let out a quiet hum in response. Then, I asked Zoe how she'd been. She said she was fine before steering the conversation back to Christopher. "Willow, about Uncle Christopher… Do you really think it's over between you two? I mean, I saw how you were together for four years. It's just such a shame to see it end like this." My tone sharpened. "Love is built on loyalty, Zoe. It's not something you share. Could you accept your partner constantly hurting you because of someone else?"

“I feel like I’m living in a novel.” That’s actually a good way to think of it. “You are, Mara. This is a game. We are going to tell the people a story. One so heartbreaking and gut-wrenching that they will want to fight for us. “And then. Then we will make them fear their own kind. Their own leaders. I will turn them on each other.” “That is- iit's brutal, Johnathan. It’s dirty and wrong.” “Brutal and dirty, yes, I agree… but I don’t think it’s wrong. This is a war unlike anything the world has ever seen, my love. And there are no morals in war. It is the only way.”

“The guy who wrote this book was a leader in the war. He kept talking about the importance of a blood line. His blood line to be precise.” He closes the very old book and hands it to me ‘The War.’ By Aldous Kitson.

he sneered. She took it without flinching and slid it on. “I’ll need it to bury your boss”, And across the world, war lines were drawn – not between nations, but between blood and love.

‘It’s going to be okay, I promise’ she said reassuringly, but I knew it wouldn’t be. I tried to pull myself together, telling myself it was a loveless marriage after all. It was a loveless marriage, but I felt so betrayed and stupid. I felt so angry seeing that girl on top of him, I liked the way his lips felt against mine. I longed to be in his arms all day long, I thought of him every time. I replay the first time he kissed me in my head to remember how good his lips felt against mine. My heart skips a beat whenever I see him. I don’t think this is a loveless marriage anymore. I think I am falling in love with Aaron Carson.

As though the long days of absence, of worry, of waiting, melted away in a single breath. She never threw herself at him. Never abandoned her grace. But when he reached her, she would take his hands and always his hands, holding them as though to reassure herself he was truly there. And my father… A man hardened by war, by command, by the weight of men’s lives, would look at her as though she were the only thing untouched by all of it. The noise, the servants, the soldiers… all of it would fade. For a moment, it was only them. And it had been warm, effortless. Love that warmed my heart.

"Locked them both up. The councils are hoping that if they stay apart, the prophecy stops, but from what I hear, it's not working." "That's terrible," I say, and I mean it. "They're punishing people for falling in love?" "Love between enemies," the merchant points out. "Vampire and werewolf,it's forbidden." "Maybe," I say, "but isn't love supposed to be good? Isn't it supposed to bring people together, not tear them apart?" "Spoken like someone who's never been in love," the young woman says with a smile. "Wait until you find your mate, then you'll understand how powerful it can be."

Writing. She smiled as she wrote, "His eyes... they are most unforgettable as I have never looked upon another human being who possessed eyes of his color. To say they are brown is to say the sky is simply colorful at sunset, accurate by not giving true description to their uniqueness. At first glance, you certainly see the beauty they behold, but once you gaze into them... you see everything differently... the coffee color is just the beginning as the etching of black and gold seem to intertwine around the edge of his iris. The colors mingle together cascading an array of different shades throughout his gaze. One look into them and you're lost- doomed for all eternity because no other eyes

He wanted that so much that he was ready to force me into that marriage. I remember there was times when he made me feel loved. As if he really loved me. I was his own daughter for god’s sake! How could he do this to me? The war hadn’t started with gunfire. It had started with ink. And now that I’d seen the signatures— I would make them bleed for every letter. -------------------------------------------