Nicholas Sparks Books Novels & Stories

It was the same building but each page illustrated a addition of some sort. We spread out looking for anything useful. I tried making sense of the blueprints but couldn’t understand most of it. For the first time I reached out for Aiden, he knew more about this than I did and I now regretted not paying attention when he had plans drawn up for the ski lodge. Nicolas found his way to one of the many bookcases. Running his hands over the rows he shuttered. “Are all these books made of skin?” He asked. “I wouldn’t doubt it.” I replied.

“Whoa, wait. What’s going on?” “Simple, I came to have sex with you. I don’t think I need to remind you that we’re married.” “I know that, but…” “I brought condoms with me if that’s what you’re worried about.” “So does this mean…” “You talk too much,” She pulled him back for another kiss. The next day… “I have a weird question to ask,” Nicholas said. “Weird is better than stupid.” “I don’t mean to be rude, but has your sister ever been diagnosed as being bipolar?”

Police lights strobed small and insistent at the marina, a string of ants around a spill of sugar. Nick thought about the dream again—the black jet, the faces he loved going under—and tasted pennies. He forced breath in and out, in and out, like counting burns in a set. His phone buzzed yet again. He didn’t look. He couldn’t. Rachel did. “It’s Frank,” she said. “He says he’s got… books.” She made a face. “And holy water.” “Fantastic,” Nick said, dry enough to crack. “Maybe we can baptise the fucking ocean.”

he replied “But you’re also impatient.” “Can you blame me?” I shot back “I’ve already lost so much time because of Daniel. I can’t afford to waste any more.” His gaze softened, just a little, and he nodded. “I’ll look into it.” "Is there anything else?" he leaned against the edge of the desk, crossing his arms. I pointed at the desk “The book earlier. Can I take it?" Nicholas grabbed the book "You didn't tell me you were into these kind of genre. Crime and thriller?"

Nicholas was proud of himself for attempting to make this happen, even if the room was filled with laughter. "Now that you're officially stepping aside, what will you achieve with your free time?" Cassie inquired with a sly smile. "Not yet made a decision.” Nicholas chuckled as he sipped his whiskey and remarked, "Perhaps go on a trip and finally finish that book I started years ago." As Cassie teased, "I vote for traveling because we deserve it." Nicholas's phone buzzed once more before Cassie could reply, and he responded, scowling at the unknown caller.

Warm grey eyes, intense and unwavering. I’d never felt this secure before him. Never felt this held, understood, defended. With him, I felt strong enough to face anything. Something sparked with me, sharp. Like two stones struck hard enough to ignite a flame. And from the slight darkening of Nicholas’s eyes, I knew he felt the spark too. “I should take my leave now,” Clara announced, but her voice sounded far away, barely registering. My focus was fixed entirely on Nicholas. Even when she walked past us, even when the door clicked shut behind her, neither of us looked away, letting the moment stretch and stretch until—

This bed, once a sanctuary, now feels like a stage where the lies I've told pirouette around me, each one a specter of the life I thought I wanted. The silence roars like a storm, and within its grasp, I am struck by the irreversible path before me. The woman who once rested beside Alex, blissfully unaware, has disappeared, replaced by a stranger with eyes peeled open and a soul ignited with illicit cravings. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to fend off the assault of reality, but it's hopeless—the truth is seared into my core, an unyielding, throbbing force.