The Book Quiet Novels & Stories

Maria Del Fuego’s words had changed everything. Her debut book, The Quiet Vine, had begun as a private act of reflection. A collection of essays and poems written in the quiet hours between feedings and vineyard walks. She hadn’t expected it to resonate. She hadn’t expected it to be published. And she certainly hadn’t expected it to become a national bestseller. But it had. And now, the world was watching.

I stopped outside the drawing room and again took a deep breath and nodded for Ammi to proceed. I went inside the chit chat suddenly stopped and the room fell into complete silence. I didn't dare to look up my gaze fixated on the wooden floor. Ammi took me near one of the double sitter sofa. I could see a man's feet I guess they're Raza's feet I don't know. I looked up only to find myself few feet away from Raza I feel nervous, scared but weirdly I feel..... Protected. As if the place I'm standing right now. Next to him is my rightful place, I never felt like this with kashan even when I married him with my own consent. I look into his eyes another mistake I shouldn't have done because the m

Leaning in close to my ear, Mary whispered, "I know it's really warm and comfortable, but don't fall asleep yet, okay? We haven't escaped the storm yet." I murmured softly in response.

After that day, I never saw Wynne again and gradually forgot our conversation. My life now was happy and fulfilling. I had a handsome, gentle husband and a baby on the way. If Mom could see how I was living now, she would be happy for me. But I never expected Sean to show up. At 35 weeks pregnant, I often took walks in the community square. This was an upscale neighborhood, home to the children of wealthy families and even some celebrities. The security guards were responsible and attentive, handling deliveries themselves, so outsiders rarely had reason to enter.

For now though I press a kiss to her knuckles and pull her back toward the path that leads home. There will be time for answers. Today was for quiet. And quiet I have learned is not the absence of danger. It is the space where truths begin to surface. Chapter 140 — Quiet Things That Endure Damon's POV Peace is a strange thing. It never announces itself. It does not arrive with ceremony or promise permanence. It slips in sideways between duties between breaths almost daring you to notice it before it vanishes again. Today I notice. I wake to it.Mara still slept beside me with her breathing regular, one hand curled near her face. The morning light creeps through the curtains. Soft. Warm.

Eventually, they fell silent. Celeste sensed a sharp gaze occasionally landing on her amid the silence. She turned to meet Terence's eyes in the rearview mirror. He looked at her oddly. Then, he looked away. Guests milled about at the venue. Terence entered the hall with Winona on his arm. He deliberately left Celeste behind as he carefully shielded Winona. He introduced her to everyone he knew and pulled out her seat for her, leaning close to her as he explained the rules of the match to her.

So on top of my normal duties I'm doing the work of three more people which has led to mistakes being made and has caused some small, silent break downs. With all of this going on and issues I'm having with this app and my "editor" still I have decided to not continue writing at all. It truly is with a heavy heart that I say this to you because writing used to bring me so much joy but now it just feels like another chore that I'm being bogged down with. I know there are authors who go through things like this and just abandon the stories they are currently writing which isn't fair to the readers. That is why I'm writing all of this to explain so you hopefully understand why I have decided to

"This hotel belongs to your uncle?" Nodding, he pillowed his head and lay on the floor, giving a click to the remote he held. The vault switched to a transparent top. "Here is where I speak to the silence, blame the world, and shed my tears." That somehow dimmed the glow hopping on her hand. She took a seat next to him. Under the soothing lights, his sharp facial features stood out even more, and so did his bottled loneliness. She understood the familiar silence. It was whispering, yearning to be heard after years of being ignored.

I couldn’t speak until I was eight years old. Everyone in the Sterling family called me dumb. Even my mother would secretly wipe away tears, convinced she had given birth to an autistic daughter. Whenever my father looked at me, his eyes were filled with nothing but disappointment. However, for the sake of the family’s reputation, he could never bring himself to send me away to a special education school. Then came the day someone from a prominent hedge fund company arrived to acquire our family company, Sterling Group. He was so arrogant that he chewed out everyone in the boardroom until all of them hung their heads low. The room full of corporate executives fell silent, too terrified to

That's how people on the edge of divorce should act. Worried Prof. Dalloz might go in harder, I leaned close. "Prof. Dalloz, we're on his plane. Maybe ease up a little?" Another cold snort. But he didn't say a word. Just stared out the window. "I'm gonna rest for a bit," he said, eyes drifting shut. That was the last time he did. He looked the same—head high, back straight. Even in death, he still carried that quiet pride.