The Hate Factory Book Novels & Stories

I showed him the disgust and hatred in my face. Dante didn't flinch. The news of the pregnancy seemed to have reset him. He turned back into a predator who had found his prize. He watched my lips move with a dark expression. It carried no joy, a heavy certainty that made my breath catch. "You are angry with me and you have every right to be mad at me for the rest of your life " he said, his face close to mine, ". You are going to stay here in this mansion where my men can protect you "

"Ih, you're so sour today, much more than usual. I better think of something soon to win Lillian back because I can't stand them both sulking around me, they'll ruin my days. ... After they left the cafeteria, they walked down a street where there was a library, a girl left there in such a hurry that she bumped into Adam causing the bags he had carried in his hands and her books falling to the floor. "Sorry, I'm sorry about that. "She immediately tried to apologize and pick up her books from the floor, embarrassed. "No problem, all right. "Adam reassured her and helped her with the books until one of them caught his attention "The Love of a Duke" he read on the cover and suddenly came to his

I growled, staring deep into his eyes, giving him a choice to hate me or love me. . . . Ray's P. O. V Hate me... The word resounded me in my ears a thousand times. But I couldn't do it. I couldn't see myself hating her. It was impossible. " I can't..." I muttered, still looking at her. " What did you say?" She asks me, her voice coming out as a whisper. " I can't.... Do it..... I can't hate you. I don't know how to." I said again, strongly this time, begging and hoping she'll understand. Then all of a sudden, she started hitting me in every place that was available.

I will like to inform you that a book two of this currently underway and i would let you guys know when i would be posting it. And yippe...Who wants to see George and Nicole' s Love story and how their love story turned out. I would post the link here as once i am done. But be sure the Book 2 of Hate to Love would be posted here Anticipate. Please feel free to leave comments. Thanks a whole lot. Hope you enjoyed reading the book

“We just don’t talk about it. It’s normal to want to hurt people who hurt us.” He hadn’t been making sense. “Did you hurt someone?” “You take all those drops of hate and put them in a bottle. Drop by drop. Hate doesn’t evaporate—it’s like oil. Then one day, the bottle is full.” “What happens then?” “It has to be emptied.” “Bobby, did you hurt someone?” “How else do you get rid of the hate?” He had tugged at his cuffs. They had been stained—dark, unmistakable. “Is that blood, Bobby?”

I say through gritted teeth. “I should be asking you that, didn't you look at the sign before entering?” “I don't mean that, You hate the celebrant,” My Dad, “What are you doing here?” “Do you know the calibers of men that will be here today?” “So it's business to you now? You don't care that he killed your Dad anymore?” “That’s not what I'm saying…” “Then what are you saying? It's hypocritical of you to be here after all you've said about him, You shouldn't be in the same room with him, you should hate him,” Fabian sighs in resignation.

I asked. “Yes,” he replied. There was no pity in his voice, no sorry. Just the hard truth. I looked away at the dirty floor, the shadows. “ I hate them,” I said. “Lucien, Mealis, the elders, the pack, I hate all of them” I shouted, my voice vibrating throughout the room. “Good” I looked back at him. “Hate keeps you alive, when everything is gone, you need to use it” he said. The heat in my chest moved again, like it agreed to what he said, like It wanted out.

“Because you don’t want to, Clara. You like the game as much as I do.” “Shut up,” I hissed at the paper, slashing a line across the eyes, defacing it. But it didn’t help. The tears came harder now, blurring the ink as they dripped onto the page. I slammed the book shut, tossing it aside, and curled into myself on the floor, hugging my pillow tight like a lifeline. I pressed my face against it to muffle the sob that tore out of me, raw and guttural. “He’s wrong,” I choked out, shaking my head against the damp fabric. “He’s wrong. I don’t feel anything but hate. Pure, burning hate.”

Instead, I looked past Jace and his juvenile whining, meeting the eyes of every player on the team one by one. Tyler Costa. Marcus Rodriguez. Donovan Hayes. The offensive line, the receivers and the defense. I’d spent a long time studying their plays, so long that I knew all their abilities like the back of my hand. They all stared back at me with varying degrees of hostility. Some glared outright while others just looked uncomfortable, like they wanted to be anywhere but here. They hated me, that much was obvious. But here's the thing about hate; it's loud and passionate and powerful but at the end of the day, it is completely irrelevant when there's something far, far more important at sta

I cannot let the moments of kindness erase the years of neglect. I need the hate to be stronger than the love, I write, pressing the pen so hard it tears the paper. Because hate is the only thing that will keep me alive in this house.