Poem Lest We Forget Novels & Stories

He’s broken, brutal, and untouchable—until I touch him. Everyone at Willow Crest High fears Jake Blaze. He fights like he’s got nothing to lose—because he doesn’t. Except maybe me. I was the quiet girl with too many secrets, fresh out of a custody battle between parents, and desperate for peace. He was the school’s tattooed nightmare, bleeding rage and violence. We were never meant to cross paths. But one cruel bet. One twisted kiss. One accidental confession— And now I’m the only one who sees the boy beneath the monster. He’s dangerous. I know that. He hurts people. I’ve seen it. But when he looks at me like I’m his last chance at salvation… I forget that I’m supposed to be afraid. He wants to protect me. But what if I’m the one who ends up saving him? Did I mention he’s my best friend's brother.

My heart shattered the second I walked into that bar and saw my boyfriend of three years making out with who I thought was my best friend. My boyfriend, the one who had just talked to me about getting married to me a few nights ago. In a night of heartbreak and alcohol, I bowed to forget about him. But fate threw me a curve ball when I woke up in bed with the person I least expected... Dad's partner and the same man that I had lost my virginity to when I was younger, Daniel Halloway. To make matters worse, we were married, and he refuses to annul our marriage. "I'll give you a divorce, but only after our contract is over. After that, you're free to go." he corners me back to the wall making me feel like a small prey, waiting to be devoured by its hunter. "But until then... You're mine, and I will do with you as I so damn well please." he whispers in my ear, sending shivers up my spine.

Adrianna Do you ever wish you were strong enough? I wish I wasn’t weak willed. That I actually could stand up to my family so I didn't have to betray the one person who truly loved me. The only man I ever loved. Now he's back for revenge, vowing to pull my entire family down. He doesn’t look at me the way he once did. His eyes are filled with hatred and disdain. Lance I want to hold Adrianna’s head under water. I want to kiss her till we both forget everything. I find it difficult to decide which I want more. More than anything, I want to bring her down. I want to see her suffer everything I suffered because of her. To watch her lying mouth beg for forgiveness. To see her beautiful, deceptive eyes glaze over with tears. I won't stop till I burn the Houston family legacy to the ground.

*Smut After her mate's brutal rejection, healing prodigy Sandra surrenders to a dangerously seductive stranger in a dark alley, only to discover he's her uncle Marcus. Trapped by blackmail in his isolated house, forbidden desire ignites between lessons. But Marcus harbors a deadly secret about her father's death. ----------------- “Fuck, Sandra,” he growled, thumb brushing over my nipple through the fabric until it stiffened, aching. “Vanessa’s right upstairs. If she hears us—” “I don’t care,” I panted, rocking up against him, chasing that thick pressure. “Make me forget today. Just tonight. Please.” I’m going straight to hell,” he muttered, then closed the gap. His mouth took mine slow this time, deliberate, like he was memorizing the taste of me. I sighed into it, hands sliding up his chest to grip his shoulders. He tasted like black coffee and smoke and sin, and I wanted more. He tugged me closer, one hand fisting in my hair, the other splayed low on my back, pressing me against him. Heat flared low in my belly, spreading fast. I shifted, trying to ease the ache between my thighs, and he groaned against my lips, grip tightening. His tongue traced the seam of my mouth; I opened for him instantly, meeting him stroke for stroke until we were both breathing hard. He tilted my head back, lips moving down my throat, teeth grazing the frantic beat of my pulse. I gasped, nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders. “We should stop,” he rasped against my skin, but his hand was already pushing under my thin tank top, calloused palm gliding up my ribs. “We should,” I agreed breathlessly, then dragged his mouth back to mine, kissing him deeper, hungrier.

After dying in prison from experimentation, I had gone back in time 2 years before my death. My faith in the Imperial Family, my affection for my own family, they can all go to hell! For that goal, I seek the second prince of this Empire, Azazel von Elysian for cooperation. "I will help you become the Emperor. In return, make me your Empress. I want everyone to be at my feet." With this agreement, we were bound by a bond where we would crush the Empire to create anew. I will make him the perfect Tyrant. - "Verena, tell me what you desire. I'll give it to you with all my heart." He whispered softly to my ear while holding me from behind, as if to lock me in his embrace forever. "Why are you asking me when we have already reached our goals?" He tighten his embrace, burying his head onto my shoulder. "... Please forget I asked." As time passes, he has developed a strong attachment to me, bordering on obsession. "Please don't abandon me... If you do, I'll kill myself." My eyes went wide, shiver ran down my spine as I unconsciously stepped back because of his threat. That Tyrant Emperor that I created is kneeling on the floor in front of me, the one who has used him. As if he's child who would be abandoned by his parents. I thought he would hate me at the least, but he turned into a crazy, obsessive tyrant that followed my wishes. He wouldn't let me escape his golden cage that he created for me. "If you're going to hell, Verena, bring me along with you." - Warning : The story contains adult content such as violence, consumption of heavy drinks, illegal drugs, blood and murder. Readers who are uncomfortable with the content, it's recommended not to read.

You think you've had a bad day? My name is Braddock Westfield, Billionaire Alpha (head werewolf) of the Crescent Moon pack I've searched for my fated mate for 22 years and finally conceded to the elders to choose a Luna to produce an heir. The night before our union my pack was attacked by rogues (werewolves with no pack, no morals, mostly criminals), we suffered no losses except my Gamma (Lead Warrior), who now we need to pick up 100 miles away in a small human town at a Diner. I receive a call as I pull into the parking lot, that my chosen mate has been kidnapped by rogues on her way to my pack. Pissed off, I enter the Diner, an intoxicating scent hits me and my wolf howls in my head "MATE" (22years of searching and on my Union Day, you find her). Two men crash threw the door inside the diner, yelling "Charlie get your ass out here now, we're not done with it yet." The old woman behind the counter grabs a shotgun and makes them leave. A waitress comes out bringing food and that intoxicating scent, my heart clenches when our eyes lock and our mate bond snaps tethering our hearts together, as I look at her broken nose, bruised face, split lip, swollen green glistening eyes. I need to get her to leave with us, promising to keep her safe, revealing I'm a psychiatrist with facilities, to help her rebuild her self-esteem and build her confidence to help her, move past her obvious trauma. Explaining she's a werewolf and I'm her fated mate and at least 20+ years older than her, that may be more challenging. Let's not forget, I now need to find my kidnapped chosen that I need to reject. All this before 9am.

After the divorce, all she sought was revenge for herself and her family, and as she hits rock bottom, without even enough to eat, she realizes that life can still be good. Starting over with everything she has, she is determined to forget her ex-husband and fight for custody of her son, and with that, take revenge on her stepmother who took all her inheritance for herself. They would never forget her name!

I was seventeen the first time I saw him. He never looked at me twice. I spent years trying to forget a man who didn't even know I existed. I built my own life, my own money, my own name. I didn't need anyone. Then one night, everything I built fell apart at once. So I walked into a bar, and I let a stranger take me home. No names. No morning. Clean and simple. Except nothing about him was ever going to be simple. Because I walked into work the next day, and there he was. Sitting in the CEO's chair like he owned the world. Looking at me like he already owned me. I told myself it meant nothing. I told myself I could walk away. I've always been good at lying to myself. But there's one thing I never saw coming. One truth that was hiding right in front of me the whole time. And when it finally comes out — I don't know if what we have survives it.

“Are you going to treat me like the enemy?” Raffaele asked, hovering over me like a predator. “You are the enemy,” I sneered. He smiled. “Careful. You’re hurting my feelings.” “I hope I can hurt much more than that.” His eyes darkened. “You forget—I’m the one who can break you.” I vowed never to give my heart to a man. Never let one bend me. Never let one own me. Then a single night changed everything. When my best friend became a target, I took her place and caught the attention of the most dangerous man in the city. Raffaele, My friend's older brother, wasn’t supposed to see me. We were never meant to meet but the moment his eyes locked on mine, I became his new obsession. I don’t bend and he doesn't let go. Suddenly caught up in a world of blood and power, resisting a man like Raffaele might cost me everything...heart, body, and soul. He wants me, dead or alive.

In the coastal quiet of Baler, a studio is born—not of architecture, but of intention.* Founded by Yam, a poet whose words cradle pain gently, and Franc, an artist who paints tenderness into walls, the studio becomes a refuge for those learning to stay—with grief, love, longing, and themselves. As visitors arrive, they leave behind more than footprints: a sigh recorded in bamboo, a poem tucked into the “Found Letters” shelf, a mural painted in crooked lines. Through zines, tea, silence, and sketchbooks, the studio teaches softness as revolution. Ren creates the *Window of Soft Returns*, an installation of anonymous voice recordings—each whisper forming a community of echoes. Drew builds the *Staircase With No Wrong Turns*, inviting people to walk through emotions without shame. Franc offers brushstrokes as brave work, and Yam curates writing circles that map healing in half sentences. Together, they host festivals that feel like hugs, and they begin traveling their archive, letting softness cross oceans. Even those who once left—like Miguel—return, discovering that some doors never truly close. Others, like Tala, capture the studio’s sound and turn it into a podcast of breath and becoming. Over seventy chapters, the studio transforms into something larger than itself: a mural of memory, a sanctuary for second chances, a place where return is sacred and voice is proof of survival. In the final bloom, the studio stands not as a monument—but as a reminder: > *“Staying isn’t easy. > But chosen together, > it becomes home.”*