Slow Burning Book Novels & Stories

--- 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.

After a tense silence, Thomas finally sounded utterly defeated. “That’s enough! Stop! The rescue team is already on the way! “Just… go around, don’t come this way.” I exhaled sharply and yanked the wheel, turning the car around. I had gambled right. However, moments of relief were immediately replaced by a wave of heat even stronger than before. Smoke burned in my lungs, and all I could hear was the relentless crackling of the fire. I fought to control the car, spinning through flames and smoke, gripping the wheel with every ounce of strength.

He went back to his notebook. Dante picked up his wine. Brussels in January was doing its grey philosophy outside the restaurant window, and inside the table was warm with people who had built something together and were sitting in it, and the working group had recognized the methodology as sound, and the second novel was sixty-four thousand words with a cooperating third act, and in the Alentejo the garlic was underground doing its slow patient work, and in Cardiff there was a box with a note at the bottom of it, and the year was barely begun and was already, in its specific way, correct.

He set the untouched drink aside and reached for his coat. Fire had rules. Fire did not look back. Fire did not involve itself in accidents or strangers. But tonight, Fire had collided with something cold. And for reasons he couldn’t yet explain, Alexander Steele knew this was not just an incident. It was the beginning of something dangerous.

, but before the old lady could complete CEO intervenes,” just throw her out of my cabin right now or else I am going to fire you all”, ordering his guards Just burn each and every copy of this book or else ....”, But before she could complete her sentence suddenly her voice gets husky and his facial expressions starts changing, and she again continues,” I am going to. “, and once again before completing her sentence she ends up hitting wall of the room exploding her mind like a bomb and soon her blood spills all over the room which leaves both of us scared So not having any other option with just ended up burning each and every copy of the book which were collected across the globe but stil

Slow burn. Please give that book a try and let me know if you like it. And I would like to know if you would want a short portion of John and Georgia's story or a direct epilogue to close the book.

The sun was slowly raising in the sky, her eyelids were closing from sleep. Slowly the book slipped out of her outstretched hand, knocking down the lantern, making the oil spill on the floor before fire lit a small part of the rug. While the fire slowly started spreading, and the smoke slowly starting clouding the air, she fell more and more asleep.

“Something real. Not a memory of a party or a name of a person we both hate. Tell me something you see right now.” I looked around the room. I saw the way the firelight danced on the gold leaf of the book spines. I saw the dust motes dancing in the air like tiny, silent stars. I saw the way the shadows made him look younger, softer. “I see the fire,” I said, my voice low and melodic. “It’s dying down to embers, a soft, glowing orange. It looks like the heart of a mountain. And the books… they look like a city of paper, all standing at attention, waiting for someone to listen to them. And I see a man who is far more than the darkness he’s been handed.”

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.

But even that reminder doesn’t stop my mind from flashing images of him behind my closed eyelids. The roots that are inked all over his groin, stems growing over his stomach, until they bloom into different colored flowers on his chest that I’ve felt his heart racing in. Black and white snakes, their bodies tangling down one thigh while a night sky, with a blood red moon and black birds in flight play out on the other. His neck, that ink that’s been bitten between my teeth, with feathers spread on both sides, a colorful dragon breathing bright orange-reddish fire on the front, coming up till just under his chin. And his back, that my nails have sunken into, scratched, grabbed for mercy, cove