Racing Hearts Book Novels & Stories

“Why do I always get left behind? “ She got up and started running outside towards the cottage, she locked herself in and went to her old room. She just couldn’t bear it, she thought she was strong but having a broken heart and a close relative dying, she was crumbling inside. She just huddled in a corner looking up at the photo frame on top of her side table.It contains a photo of her and her parents, it was a picture of peacefulness and happiness. Beside that is a photo of Ami and her uncle, she grabbed the photo and pressed it to her chest. There was a loud pounding at the door but she ignored all sounds and reminisced all her happy memories with her uncle. He acted as her mother and fath

The brown long table in front of the librarian’s cubicle was empty, compared to the back tables behind the tall bookshelves that were so full. I hurriedly placed my things there and went to fetch some reference books I could use for my essay. I had to redo the part that was ripped, and it was hard to distinguish which book was it that I used earlier. Not only that, but I had to read every single page of what I had done to connect the words and ideas exactly as they were. I could hear the hushed conversations of the students, the turning sound of the ceiling fan from above me, and books being flipped. Feeling uncomfortable, I took my earphones out and shoved them in my ear to focus.

George's hand found my arm before I'd finished processing the question. "Nothing is wrong." Carol turned the screen toward us. "I want you to look at something." I looked. Two. There were two. Two distinct shapes, two unmistakable flickers of movement, two separate heartbeats playing out in counterpoint on the screen — rapid and certain and impossibly, abundantly real. I heard George make a sound I had never heard from him before. Not words. Just a sound, low and sudden, like something had knocked the air out of him.

"If something happened to me, if I got hurt or arrested, it would destroy her." I sit up and look toward the door, knowing Mom is just down the hall preparing dinner with the groceries I bought with blood money. "She can't be part of this," I tell myself firmly. "The racing world is brutal and violent, nothing like the quiet life Mom has built for us." The people who organize these races, the riders who participate—they're not the kind of people who would hesitate to hurt someone if it served their purposes. I lie back on my bed, staring up at the water stain on the ceiling that's been there since before Dad died. The excitement from winning the race is already fading, replaced by a heavy we

The mate bond flickers again. Not breaking. Not healing. Just existing. One. Calix launches forward. The crowd explodes. Bikes tear across the track, engines screaming, tires kicking up dust. I watch him disappear into the race. My lips still feel warm. My wolf still aches. And my heart feels like it’s being pulled in two different directions at once. I don’t know which one will win. I don’t know which one I want to win. The countdown felt like a countdown to something else.

That night Mahira and Tazz both had a restless night, one with anxiety and other with excitement, only fate knew the game it was to play with two innocent hearts the next day. One in Pain, one in Pleasure, how can one same heart have two feelings in it... All Hearts !!

I was too busy panicking about the kiss to feel anything. Ever since I kissed Byron, my heart had been sent into an overdrive. It was racing manically and I couldn't tell if it was my body's reaction to him or a symptom of my heart disease. Byron helped me into the car. My heart didn't seem to be calming down soon. It definitely was a symptom. "Are you okay?" I heard Byron ask. He sounded so far away. "Yes." I replied, looking out the window in an attempt to hide my tears. My hands started trembling.

Anda rolled her eyes. "So I found out there's a horse race going on tonight at the village square so I signed up" Adam smiled. "You can't race.. what if you fall off and dies?" Anda glared at him. "I signed up as Anda Samuels, I'll do the talking and you'll do the racing" Adam replied. "You smart son of a bitch" Anda Screamed excitedly attracting attention. "So, The official boat race starts next week.. I think it's a good thing we came to Dullard" Adam smiled.

My blood pumped wildly from envisioning Marcus doing any of those things to me. "Fine. I'm fine." He eyed the book. "Are you enjoying the book?" "Yeah, um, it's great. Thank you." Marcus gave me a devilish look, walked over, grabbed the book and picked up where I left off. "No!" I shouted, grabbing the book and bringing it to my chest. Marcus grinned. "That's why your heart was racing so quickly," he chuckled. "Well," he cleared his throat. "If you get in the mood to try any of those things that has you hot and bothered, you know where to find me," he said with a wink.

With all the clutter and distress associated with the incident and its aftermath swirling around me like a storm, I found that the adrenaline of racing was the one thing that could calm my racing thoughts. The racetrack is alive with the energy of both men and women alike. The atmosphere is electric; it feels as though an unseen current connects everyone present. Everywhere I turn, I am met with the sight of either sleek, luxurious cars gleaming under the lights or dilapidated old vehicles that have seen better days. Among the crowd, I recognize some familiar faces from the racing community, but at that moment, I don’t feel like socializing. My hardened expression serves as a barrier, effect