Magical Love Story Books Novels & Stories

“Yes, ma’am.” The chambers were large, beautiful, and suffocating all at once. Expensive fabrics, imported furniture, and flowers in vases that probably cost more than entire villages back home. My home. My burned, broken, grieving home. I breathed a sigh of relief—I had passed the first test. The second would begin when the king entered my chambers. I fell onto the bed, thinking about the good times I spent with my beloved… “Alessia,” he had once whispered my name, kissing me softly on the cheek. “I will never stop loving you, my flower.”

Dedication To "You" whom I lost, I am dedicating this beautiful tale of love and magic in a hope of getting you back. To make you acknowledge that I love you more than anything else in this world, I have loved you until we were strangers; I will love you more now you are known. NoteCopyright © 2021 Michelle Zeah All rights Reserved The names, characters, places, storyline, and everything in this book is entirely fiction. Any resemblance or similarities of events are entirely coincidental.

I raised an eyebrow at his story, still not understanding its relevance. "One day the man and the woman had a baby girl. But this girl was no ordinary girl. She was special," he said, inspecting his nails casually. Then his eyes lifted to mine. "She was one born of magic, and of the moon." Shock ripped through my body at his words, but I schooled my face into neutrality. "And what does this fairytale have to do with me?" I asked. Damion burst out laughing and slapped his knee. Within an instant, he had shoved himself off of the stool and dropped down on his knees in front of me so that we were eye to eye.

“Inspiration doesn’t wait. Besides, you say things too good to waste. Like the coffee brooding? That was gold.” He shook his head, a smirk tugging at his mouth as he ordered two coffees. We grabbed a corner table, Goose still stealing glances from half the café. “So, what’s this book about?” Ace asked once we sat. “Cat shifters,” I said without hesitation. “Epic romance. Sarcastic hero, rambly heroine, lots of claws and passion.” Ace raised a brow. “Sounds familiar.” My cheeks burned. “Coincidence.”

Aria’s fire, her defiance, her love so fierce it made the world shift around her. They had already been through hell. And this—this was the choice magic offered them? I shook my head slowly, disbelief turning into dread. “This can’t be it,” I murmured to the empty library. “This can’t be the only truth.” But the book did not argue. It simply lay there, ancient and unyielding, its pages filled with the bones of stories that had ended badly—stories where love was not enough to outrun magic designed to destroy it. My hands curled into fists against the table.

Dear Readers, Love has a way of surprising us—especially when fate steps in. Thread of Destiny is a story about friendship, longing, and the magic of fated mates. It’s a sapphic paranormal romance that blends the thrill of unexpected love with the warmth of a second-chance connection.

It might be a lie but it keeps me sane. Soon after I opened the book, I was lost in it. Lost in the magical world of dragons and mermaids where everything seemed ten times more beautiful. Where mates were cherished and people did everything for love and to be loved. Envy simmered in my mind, brewing a kind of hate out of jealousy for the characters that got the perfect love story. One that I cannot have.

I’m damn proud of it, and I’m glad I didn’t give up after the first fail. I’ve discovered that I get into those fantasy stories where one person knows who his or her soul mate is upon meeting them, or even before that, as what happened in the A Court of Thorns and Roses series by Sarah J. Maas, A Kinda Fairy Tale series by Cassandra Gannon, and many of the shifter books by Eve Langlais that I have loved so much. So that’s where I came up with the Love Mark idea.

I grabbed my purse and headed out the door, turning back for my book on the kitchen counter; reading books will forever be my first love. At The Tasty Place Diner I found what might be my new inspiration. He was tall, almost roughed, not too soft. I don’t know what to make of what happened. “Mr. Blackwood,” he had signed my book; who was he? He was light skinned. I usually like men a shade closer to purple. His chest was broad, too broad. Usually my men are slimmer. He had lazy eyes that looked intense just when he needed them to be. Bedroom McDreamy eyes... And he smiled like a humming bird, glorious and slick.

Overall, it’s a complex procedure, one that involves sight, smell, taste, knowledge, and, most of all, magic. “Evangeline, look at this,” Kristopher says after dipping the sample in a fluid, turning it bright yellow. “I have never seen anything like it,” he says. I look at the color of the liquid, “I think I know what this is,” I tell him, pulling out a small vial containing the tear of a Griffen. Kristopher looks at me curiously. “My grandma used to tell me the tale of a coven that would use a magical yellow flower. To improve their chances of living longer, they would give it to children, robbing them of their souls. But I thought that coven was killed centuries ago.” I looked at Merida. “