Once Is Not Enough Book Novels & Stories

But that didn't stop me from asking, "What?!" I guess I needed clarity. "He wrote an autobiography of his life and mentioned you." That's all dad had said. Of course that was an exaggerated understatement of what was actually in the book. It was like I was the main character in his story and everyone else was just supporting characters, including him. It talked about me so much that at some point it stopped referring to me with my name but rather used pronouns. "It doesn't matter now." I finally respond after my long daze. We're now seated on the rocks that used to be comfortable back in the day but not so much right now.

Hello 🤗 I'm truly sorry for the recent inconsistency. I've been experiencing significant creative burnout and fatigue lately, which has made it challenging to update. I'm working on getting my creative energy back, and I appreciate your patience. This book will be completed soon, so please know it won't be abandoned. Thank you for your understanding! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

"Back then, my startup failed. I was penniless and hadn't eaten for two days. You gave me your remaining bread and left a note that read, 'Keep going. It'll pass'." I froze. It had been a small, casual gesture—one I had long forgotten. "After that, I kept looking for you. By the time I was strong enough to stand before you, Daniel was already by your side. All I could do was wait—wait for you to see him for who he truly is, and wait for you to leave him." Victor turned toward me, my reflection mirrored in his deep eyes. "Margaret, I wasn't just taking advantage of your crisis. I've been planning this for a long time."

"With you? Yes." --- The waves crashed. The stars shone. And somewhere inside the house, two women held onto each other. Not because they were afraid. Because they'd learned that the ethics of enough is not about doing everything — it's about doing what matters. And they'd done what mattered. End of Chapter 190

I had been with Marcus Hale for eight years. I gave him two children, but his heart had always belonged to another she-wolf. When my cousin, his first love, returned to the pack, I finally realized it was time to end things. I went to the pack's administration office to file the paperwork to leave the pack. But the moment I stepped inside, I heard Marcus's voice. "The pack anniversary banquet is next month. That dress fits you perfectly." Then a she-wolf replied, sounding hesitant, "But that gown belongs to the Luna. Wouldn't it be inappropriate for me to wear it?"

"Go now. In your next life, you will be born into a loving, ordinary family, with loving parents, a healthy body, and a peaceful and happy life." I turned back, taking one last look at the world full of scars and entanglements. The small sunflower windmill in front of my tombstone spun tirelessly in the wind. In the distance, Timothy's foundation allocated its first grant to help a female awake her wolf. My spirit lived on forever in another form now. I smiled with relief, turned around, and plunged into that warm light without looking back. Goodbye, Timothy Russell. Goodbye to the six years I spent loving you.

In the seventieth year of my marriage to Adrian, the whole world still believed we were the most devoted vampire couple alive. In the documentary, he looked at me across old footage that spanned half a century and told everyone, "After I met my wife, I finally understood that even immortality can make you feel there isn't enough time." He confessed his love for me. He said he wanted every tomorrow I had. But that same night, I received a video. In a dim hotel corridor, my husband had a young human woman pinned against the wall, his head bent to bite the side of her neck. She asked him whether he was going home to me that night. Adrian kissed the blood from the corner of her lips and answered

Until we meet again, sweet girl, I hope you're dancing with the angles. END OF BOOK ONE

I honestly do. With that being said, I'll reiterate it once again: THIS IS BOOK ONE. I'd really appreciate it if you didn't leave one star ratings because this book is over. If there are any questions you'd like to ask, contact me in the GoodNovel Facebook group or dm me on my Twitter page @JanileMiracle

Mom and Elena rising together and applauding. Richard stood last. Slow. The coat unbuttoning. His clap heavy and deliberate. Something closer to acknowledgment. Seven people. Standing. In a basement bookstore in Portland. For a book about a bar and a boy and a sabotage and a hospital and a kitchen floor and a family that broke and rebuilt and held. The crowd drifted toward the signing table. I stepped off the podium. A woman stopped me – tired eyes, worn jacket, a fresh copy clutched in white-knuckled hands.