Once Burned Book Novels & Stories

The evening was chilly and silent, the sun hung on the horizon, slowly setting and the breeze that blew in was cold, causing goosebumps to form on the skin but Omar didn't bother to get up to shut the windows. He laid on the bed, staring up at the ceiling feeling torn and exhausted and alone and all round broken. These past few days had stretched him emotionally so much so that he felt used. He felt like he couldn't do anything right and to think that all these drama happened in only a week, if a medium had told him that his life would be spun recklessly this way in such short time, he wouldn't have believed.

Then fell back into his unending abyss of silence. And while the fires licked out of control at Honeycomb Haven, spreading from the upright wooden box-hives to Cassie Patrick’s house and the outbuildings, the Gospel Book Store downtown blazed away itself like a beacon in the night—having been similarly torched—its hundreds of Bibles burning and melting, turning to holy ash inside the structure, before Glee Deadmond even had the chance to purchase a new one to replace her old.

he says and I shake my head, refusing his threats. “Or…” he says and takes his hands completely off of me. He opens the book and flip through slowly, his fingers teasing the edge of the white pages the way I wish he would tease my hard nipples. I press my legs together, looking for a way to keep down my lust and the crazy thoughts as a drop of juice slides out of my pussy lips into the lady panties I have on. “Or…” he says again and runs his finger down the page of my last writing. Tomorrow morning is Christmas morning.

I had thought that it would burn me – taking a peek at the two women who were with me, they were back away from the fire, Leah patted the small flame that got on her pants, Lyv helping her put it out. I could still feel the heat, but what was odd was that the flames didn’t burn me. I lowered my hands slowly, looking at the book – now burning yet the pages were intact. My heart beat fast as I walked back to the podium. I blink, there was something new. I blinked again. I rubbed it, feeling the sting I had felt when Leah brought me to Neverwhere.

said Jette. “Peace?” asked Brent. Jette accepted the apology and they shook hands. *** When Jette arrived home, she immediately examined if the comb has hair strands. It has!!! She inserted those hairs on the pages of the book, and a flame starts from the bottom, until the midway, and the book was burned half. She’s so happy!!! She immediately called Crisanta. “Miss, I have burned the book on its halfway,” said Jette. “Nice. The second rule can be found on the burned part,” Crisanta said.

I interrupted. Her cheeks went red, and her eyes brightened. With a groan, I shook my head. My wolf was growling at me even before I said, “It’s not worth crying over.” The book blew up. Every page lit on fire as it burst outward, flying in every direction. A chunk of the flaming spine hit me square in my chest. I batted it away, yelping in shock. There was a slight burn where it’d hit me, but nothing bad. I stomped out the flames and made my way to the other bits of burning paper, putting out the fires.

Even the bishop, once warm and jovial, began requesting odd reports about Isabella’s daily activities. And Catherine—despite her physical absence—was ever-present. She had sent a parcel to the church. Inside was a book. No note. No name. Just the title embossed in gold: "The Altar We Burned." It was written in Isabella’s handwriting. But she had never written such a book. Arthur’s hands shook as he turned the pages. They detailed dreams Isabella had shared only with him. Secrets she hadn’t spoken aloud. The book was a threat.

--- Burning Empire Chapter 1 Matteo’s heart hammered like a drum as he slipped through the crowded streets, clutching the small leather pouch tight beneath his coat. The city buzzed all around him — neon signs flickering, voices shouting, music pounding from nearby bars. But Matteo barely heard it. All he could focus on was the pounding in his chest and the sharp, cold weight in his pocket. This was it. His first real score.

“Was Aria Sterling’s aka Zara Winterborn’s return planned? Why did she decide to reincarnate now?” My eyes skim through the article while I drive and my heart drops. This isn't only exposure. This is destruction. To Zara’s reputation, credibility, and career. Everything is gone in the twinkle of an eye. Burned to ashes. I dial her bodyguard again. “How is she? Are you guys out already?” “I'm inside now. Heading towards their table but something’s not right,” he says, seemingly calm despite the situation. “What is it?” I pause to listen to him.

Meanwhile, about a week and a half later, we received a letter from Eurydice. She wrote: "My loving Papa, I have safely arrived, and Rome is big and exciting! The buildings of the Roman Forum and the Imperial Palace are vast. Uncle Titus let me visit his library the first day I arrived. I was so happy to view all the great works of the Ancient Greek poets and philosophers. Of course, he has the writings of the Roman men throughout the century. The orations of Cicero, the sagas of Ovid, and so many others that I cannot remember all their names! I was given a tutor, a man, but he's not like my Jessa. Please convey how much I miss her, and I search for her litter every day! I'm not sad in Rome,