The Book That Held Her Heart Novels & Stories

He swept her into his arms and rushed away without looking back. The crowd's stares seared my skin. I forced myself upright, my knees trembling so violently I could hardly stand. … Back home, I headed straight for Ryan's study. I keyed in Olivia's birthday and heard the safe click open. I braced myself for whatever I might uncover. To my surprise, I felt nothing at all. Inside, there were no treasures, just a single document. I pulled it out. Even after everything that had happened, seeing the proof with my own eyes still made my chest tighten, as if an old wound had been torn open again.

Her stomach turned at the word again, pack. She slid that book away too. Her heart was beating faster now, a dull thunder behind her ribs. Another caught her eye. Slimmer, the lettering was softer, the cover worn, but still well kept, The History of the Mating Bond. Curiosity prickled. Or maybe dread.

Penelope had gone back to her room to take a short nap. She finished the book she held and shut it. Walking slowly towards the large bookshelf, she dropped it and picked another one. "Taming her wild heart." She read the title out loud. Her eyes lit up at the erotic book cover. It was a picture of a man with dark hair and dreamy eyes. A blonde haired woman straddled him on a bed, her head thrown back and her eyes closed. The picture reminded her of Henry and the intimate moment they shared in the bathroom some nights ago.

I also hold my eyes "Yeah, your eyes are swollen," she said, smiling triumphantly while I looked down sadly. "This," I said, handing her the money. I hurriedly grabbed my book parcel. "You can't lie to me," shouted the woman who kept the cashier, forcing me to run too quickly getaway ******* "Hiuffff," I threw my body roughly onto the mattress. Grabbing the book I bought earlier. For a moment, my heart trembled to read the title of the book. have I reached this stage? this pain is my unrequited love

“So, sweetheart, you can’t escape. I guarantee that I’ll have your heart in seven days.” Sotiria, who was shaking all over, couldn’t even hold on to that book. The Book of Love landed on the side of her feet with a thud. ‘Zachary! Why is he so insistent? Why is my heart still pounding excitedly, despite knowing that he doesn’t harbor any good intentions?’

She didn’t want to tell Joey that this one simple sentence had changed her world more than she was willing to accept and that she was terrified that her heart was losing its claws, its weapons, and its hunger for blood in the battle against Zander. Joey’s eyes crinkled, and she was so focused on the confusion and awe in them that it didn’t even register that he was laughing. Not just laughing—hooting. Holding his stomach and everything. “No, come on, no. Your friend didn’t mean your heart is a lonely hunter. She meant the book The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers. Maybe it was her favourite. The author was twenty-three when she wrote it. Your age.” He looked at me pointedly, like

"The gift is inside the book." There is a silver bracelet kept in the middle with one piece of a heart. I look at her hand and she has the other piece. We have matching bracelets. Bruna pulls me in a hug and laughs. "I'm tired of waiting for a hug." I have never felt this purely and genuinely loved by anyone.

Would she be brave enough to let herself embark on the long, arduous trip to wholeness? Baby steps. She was going to take it one step at a time.. But.. she'll need a little help... Heart slamming against her ribcage with a frightening intensity, she clutched the book in her arms tightly and robotically retraced her steps back to the library. When she got to the entrance, she paused, grey eyes watching the man who'd stolen her heart years ago... And never gave it back...

he said in a soft voice. She was about to open her mouth to speak, but he pretended not to see her and put the book on the bookshelf to his left. “Come with me. I’ll take you to rest,” he said into her eyes and took her hand, leading her downstairs with him. ****** Calista was sitting on the sofa furrowing her brows in thought. She kept thinking about the woman's voice and the book. She still remembers the writing on the cover of the book, “Mirror of Heart”.

A heartbeat later, the wind shifts—and she’s there. Gran. Ysabeau. She steps into view like she’s always belonged here. Her coat is smudged with forest debris, her braid loose. But what she holds is pristine—a book wrapped in dark cloth, the edges of it glowing faintly with runes I don’t recognize. “Gran–” I start. “No,” she says, quiet but firm. I flinch at the sound of her voice, the ache I didn’t know I still carried cracking in my chest.