The Book That Held Her Heart Novels & Stories

Clara sighed and decided that maybe she could fix its bindings before returning them. She picked up the loosened page, and unlike the burnt one which she had read last night, this one did really belong to the book. And there she found an almost faded sketch of a gilded hand with fingers that were slender and nails that looked more like claws. It seemed to be holding a heart, dripping blood collected into a pool beneath it.

She picked it up from his desk knocking a stack of files over in the process, she crouched down to pick them when her eyes fell on a book which had been covered by the files earlier. Rising up to her feet, she placed her laptop back down on the desk staring at the book she was holding which had a red heart shape on the cover, that wasn't what piqued her attention the most.. it was the title.. 'How to make a lady fall for you' Her brows furrowed deeply, why does he even need a book like this? curiously, she flipped through the first page where a green marker ticked out a part titled 'Send her flowers'

Belladonna's eyebrows furrowed, the words sinking in, along with the effect they carried. After that, Lady Kestra left, closing the door behind her. Belladonna's eyes swayed back to the trolley of books by the bedside. She found herself walking to it, running her hands over the book, sniffing in the smell of old and new paper. Then she finally picked one - Heart of Fire. Then settled down on the bed, glad that she had already eaten lunch before flipping open the book. In the first page were neat penciled words written in the same beautiful handwriting she had seen in the letter.

His lashes long and dark against his cheeks, one tiny hand clutching the edge of her sleeve as if afraid to drift too far. Daniel sat on the floor beside her, back against the crib. His shoulder brushed her knee, and Theodore’s head rested against her chest as he floated between waking and dreams. In Sophia’s hands lay a book. Not just any book — their book. Handmade. Bound in soft leather. The title pressed in delicate gold script: The Girl Who Waited, and the Man Who Finally Found Her. She turned the first page and began to read, her voice warm and low, colored with memory.

It felt like she was still here with me, in this room, and for a moment, I forgot about everything else. I heaved a heavy sigh and turned around, but something caught my attention on her bookshelf. There, nestled between the works of Jane Austen, was a small leather-bound journal that I had never seen before. I picked it up, feeling its soft cover under my fingertips and carefully flipping through the pages. As I read her delicate handwriting, my heart ached with both joy and sadness. This journal was a window into her thoughts, her feelings, her dreams. It was like a piece of her that I had never known before.

So he scampered closer, reaching her and he took the book out of her hand and he immediately earned a gasp of surprise from her. " I'm not hungry so just go away and leave me alone." Zade flipped through the pages of the book before turning to the cover page, his lips curved upside-down and he hummed lightly. " Ares Lockwood's Sing Like a Girl" Again, he hummed. Then there it was— his goddamn gracious green eyes, as though there were flares behind them, suddenly turned away from their usual dark side to a warm one. But why was her heart beating so fast and why shouldn't she control it?

They can’t hurt what they can’t see. I did not drop it. I raised it. And I looked—not at the chains, not at the monster’s arms—but at its chest. At the place where all those books fused into a roughly rib‑like cage. At the single, massive volume wedged dead center: a heavy, iron‑clasped tome that hadn’t moved once, even when the rest of its body shifted. Its “heart.” “That,” I gasped, pointing with the pen. “Its heart is a locked book—pry it open!”

I scoffed. "Give me an answer," I sneezed and let go of her hair. I moved backward and noticed that her twin was silently reading a book, it was a chant. She wanted to read my mind, to know who I was. The remaining candle-ignited flame was moving by its waves. I approached her and gripped her neck, with my left hand. I took the book from her, and saw it was the 'Engagement of the dead souls'. I looked at her glowing face, she was looking innocent with a deadly poisonous heart.

Everyone who was sane loved his sweet girl but no one loved her as much as he did. Daisy's dainty little body was perched on his lap as she held the tarnished book in her hands with the next page already between her thin fingers. Her head lay lightly over his chest, directly where his heart was, and her mousy hair fanned over his torso with the odd strands being played with through his masculine fingers.

A dull ache pulsed in my chest, but I had become numb to it long ago. Feeling annoyed at my silence, Adrian's frown deepened as he strode toward me. Just then, Peggy darted forward and snatched the urn from my arms. "What's this box you're carrying? It's exquisite. I could use a new jewelry case!" Horror jolts through me, my eyes widening and my veins tightening as a desperate scream tears out of my throat. "Give it back!" I lunged for the urn. Adrian immediately stepped in front of Peggy and drove his foot into my chest.