Twisting Scripture Novels & Stories

"Try to remember the smells, the sounds, what you expect to find there. And make that gesture with your hands.” It was the sign of the Holy Cross. In the name of the father, the son and the holy spirit. But instead of making the sign up, down and from left to right, it was done from bottom to top and from right to left. Contrary to the Bible and God's teachings. A blasphemy in exchange for power. I concentrated, with one hand I held my necklace and all the infernal power inside it, and with the other I made the movement.

I love her for this. My stomach twists with the information. I hadn't checked either of my phones, staying as far away from communication as I could. Why would he do that? Jacob shifts in his position before rolling his eyes at El's side note. "Anyway, we were in advanced potions, and a girl—I can't remember her name—was asking about demonic scripture and how it is used to twist a potion into something different. She said some historians say it can intensify or reverse the intended nature of the potion. Have you heard about this before?" he asks me.

he turned to me and I looked at him. "Yes?" He revolved his chair and placed his foot on the desk and signalled me to near him. "My laces for some reason got untied," he smirked and he, himself untied his tied laces. "Tie them!" He ordered me, and I only stared at him in disbelief. Is he serious right now? "Okay well, you know what I'm not going to wait here till Christmas. Do it!" He grabbed my wrist, pulling me towards him.

She was pushing me to get inside the circle. "Okay-okay," I walked into the circle and she went in front of me and walked in a circular motion then sat the inside so I sat too. An old huge paper flew from above and stopped in front of me. There were words written in red ink in there. It might be the chant to perform the ritual of Craft Awakening. "Should I read this?" She nodded so I turned my gaze back to the paper. "I Zenith Adams, accepting the power of witchcraft." Then the circle around me turned blue, soon I saw my body floating. A beautiful shiny blue smoke was dancing around me, they formed into snowflakes of different sizes.

It was only fair to call him old man. He lept out of his throne before, I could blink and came behind me, holding both my wrists in one hand and tugged them down so I was sitting on my heels. I felt the unmistakable cold metal of a knife against my artery. "Now, confess your sin." I tilted my head up and looked at him incredulously, then narrowed my eyes at him. "I have done no such thing. I haven't committed any sin." I said with false bravado, but one of his hands landed in my hair, twisting the red roots and and arching my head up even further. Now I was really scared.

The air between us was so thick with sexual tension and I mentally groaned before making up my mind. Jesus Christ! Fuck staying away! I grabbed her face and claimed her lips, pushing her against the door. She responded immediately and pushed her body towards me, running her hands all over my biceps and I pulled her closer by her tiny waist while she wrapped her arms around my neck. She smelled like apples and berries, making me drool instantly. I slid my tongue while my left hand pushed her skirt up, tracing her sexy smooth skin while she moaned against my mouth, making me smile and my lips went down from her jaw to her neck.

Werewolves have this amazing ability to attract all the attention around them when they wanted it, and the older, more experienced ones could blend in like they were invisible if they needed to too. He took my hand and led me over to one of the few couches where we sat and talked for a while. The talking quickly turned into flirting and when he finished his beer, we went to the dance floor again. He definitely knew how to dance. He was sweet and irresistible. I never wanted to take my hands off of him. He was playing his cards right to take me home tonight and we both knew it.

"Do you think it made me stronger? Or just more damaged?" Lucy looked at her daughter, seeing echoes of herself but also someone entirely unique. "Both. And neither. It's part of your story, but it doesn't define you. You define yourself." "I like that answer." The next day, Lucy finished her book. The final words: "This is where our story ends, but it's not really an ending. It's a new beginning. My children are growing up safe and loved. My marriage is stronger than I ever imagined possible. The foundation helps hundreds of families each year. We've taken the worst things that happened to us and transformed them into purpose, into meaning, into hope for others.

Imani whispered, voice low and breathless, fingers tightening around theirs, “I never imagined it could feel like this… all of this.” Zariah leaned closer, cheek brushing along hers, lips tracing the curve of her jaw with slow, teasing warmth. “Neither did I,” she murmured, voice soft, playful, deliberate. “But I wouldn’t change a second of it.” Every word, every brush of her fingers, carried a spark, a thrill, a daring sense of discovery that made Imani’s chest tighten in delicious tension.

He wanted to sit and read the scripture but ended up knocking a glass of tea. Splash! The tea splashed on the scripture and caused it to be wet. “Dear.” Nancy softly pinched him. “Look at what you’ve done…” Nancy paused as she spoke. At that moment, Nancy emotionally shouted, “Look, the scripture is changing!” A picture appeared on the scripture’s damped cover. It was initially rather blurry but gradually became clearer.