Love Poetry Books Novels & Stories

No part of this novel may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author. The Forbidden Love Series will be slightly different from the ones I've written so far. The stories in this series are not connected to each other. They are each stand-alone stories, and all of them feature forbidden love. A Short Synopsis: Twenty-four-year-old Serenity Parker had always been in love with her older brother's best friend, Alexander Dawson who was two years older than her. Soon she found out that he was too interested in his underground fight clubs and

Theodore laughed nervously. "So, what is the main reason for you bringing me here then?" Joseph asked. "You see, these yellow dandelions represent hope, love, and happiness. And since this is our third data, it's finally time for you to decide about me and about us," Theodore sounded nervous, "And I wanted you to ell your decision with your whole heart. Just like these yellow dandelions mean hope, love, and happiness, in the same way, I've brought you here with the hope of our love blooming and us leading into a path full of happiness. Though sometimes our path might be filled with thorns, with all my might, I will destroy them. I just want a sign of yes from you, angel, and I'll show you ho

Glancing at the door and listening carefully to ensure Amelia wasn’t approaching, I placed my coffee down on a nearby table and pulled it from the shelf. Chewing my lip, I flicked through the pages to find the specific page I was looking for and found it almost instantly. It was one of my favourite books that was written by a human, about a boy falling in love with a girl, struggling to confess his love to her, so he used a poetic way to confess. A hidden message between the lines, so he could tell her how he felt without really telling her. The only problem was that she never got to find out what it meant until it was too late. She lost him before she could confess her feelings were mutual.

The clerk didn’t even look up. They wandered, fingers brushing worn spines, silence stretching comfortably. He picked up a slim volume of poetry and passed it to her. “For Women Who Are Birds in Cages Made of Mirrors.” By someone she’d never heard of. She flipped through it, then read one line aloud: “She stitched silence into the hem of her voice, so the world wouldn’t hear her unravel.” Renner watched her, his eyes unreadable. “I like her,” she said softly. “I thought you might.”

"This is our home! Selene isn't back yet, so I won't let you do this to our home! Tell me—where did she go? Tell me!" Seeing how frantic he was, the lawyer sighed and said, "Ms. Adkins left a message for you. She said, 'With my heart long dead, where does love belong? A heart that has been shattered can never be pieced back together—just like how a past flame cannot be rekindled.' "So… Mr. Langley, you should let go." Jacob felt as if a hole had been carved into his chest, the cold air stabbing at his lungs with unbearable pain. A wave of dizziness hit him just then, sending a shiver down his spine.

I insisted he carry everything. And then we found ourselves in the back of an old bookstore. No big declarations. No tension. Just the hush of pages turning, the smell of paper and time, and a man who stood beside me without needing to fill the silence. --- At one point, he disappeared. I found him in the poetry section, flipping through a thin volume. “Any good?” I asked. He nodded and handed it to me. There was a line circled lightly in pencil. > “Maybe love isn’t fireworks. Maybe it’s breathing easier when they walk into the room.”

she says, pointing to the both of us on the floor, exposed before each other and not ashamed, "this is only the beginning, is only a fraction of how much I want you because I want you desperately." She waits for me to respond now, stopping her confession and wanting me to say my own part. I want to reassure her, to tell her that I love her too, but I can't find the words. I had forgotten just for a brief moment some while ago, but now the killer lady appears in my mind again, looming over me and making my heart bleed.

She sat down again, with a meaningful space between us which got me to smile lightly, of course, she wasn't aware of my smile, because her face was buried in the book she was not reading, she was just avoiding my eyes. "Back to the poem; Poem for My Love by June Jordan." I read out the title of the poem and its poet before handing the script back to Adrian. "Read out the poem Miss Williams." She took it from me and began reading, "How do we come to be here next to each other in the night Where the stars that show us our love are inevitable Outside the leaves flame usual in darkness In the rain Falls cool and blessed on the holy flesh." She raised her head to glance at me, "That's all Dr Raph

I close the door quietly. I spend an hour in the smaller library looking at the books. He has everything. Fiction. Nonfiction. Art books. History. A whole shelf of poetry that looks like it has never been touched. I pull out a volume of Mary Oliver and flip through it. Someone has dog-eared a page. I read the poem. "Wild Geese." I read it twice.

I drank it all in one swift movement. Jason, I wouldn't beg for your love again. I was going to love myself. So… Why are you the one who ended up regretting it? ... I looked at the crystal vial in my hand. The pale, pink liquid shimmered inside, giving off a scent that was both mesmerizing and dangerous. This was the legendary Love Potion, the forbidden magic of our world of Werewolves. Drink it, and the target would have "love" etched deep into their soul for seven years.