Unbroken Book Novels & Stories

~~~~~~~~~~~THE END~~~~~~~~~~~ Coming soon: Beautiful and Healed Synopsis: (Sequel of Broken and Pregnant) After being locked in jail for five years, Lucy Mason was finally free. Her life inside the prison wasn't easy. Thanks to her new inmate friend Cassandra. She was the one who helps her battle depression and despair. They got out of prison together and it's game time for those who hurt and betrayed her when she was Lucy Mason. She's back with a new name Greta Stone, the wife of a rich businessman Gale Stone who happened to be Kent's stepbrother.

Too much fire and not enough air. She sat in her study, lights dim, the rain still tapping against the old glass. Before her lay a blank leather-bound book. She dipped the pen in ink, then paused. She wrote: For my son. “The world you inherit is broken. You are not born to fix it. You are born to survive it. This is not a cradle song. This is a manual of war.” She titled the first page: THE BOOK OF BLOOD She stopped. Closed her eyes. Listened to the wind.

Zharn's mother smiled from the other side of the table next to her husband and first child. "Indeed." His father curtly replied. "Thank you." I gave my brightest rehearsed smile, hoping it looked as good as it did in my dresser's mirror. I sat down, placing my purse on my lap, and Zharn sat next to me. "Before I forget, I got you something." "You can't have anything I like except for your ginger hair." She replied coolly. "What about a book by Jamilla Coover, the final book of this Break Me series?" I raised up the black and purple popular mystery thriller novel.

I did not belong here. The restricted section wasn’t for people like me—not unless you had high clearance or knew someone on the inside. I had neither. I was good at getting into places and out again that people could not easily see, though, and desperation had its peculiar knack of opening doors that nobody intended you to go through at all. The book on my knees was bound in a cracked leather, loose at the seams, and torn here and there in the spine. Symbols danced across the page, some I recognized, others that seemed to shimmer just out of comprehension. But I kept reading. I had to.

I picked up a thick book resting on a side table and sat down on a wooden chair. The title stamped in gold across the cover read: Bound To The North. My brows furrowed as I flipped it open. It didn't look like a children's book, but still, I cleared my throat and began to read anyway. The story detailed the life of a single mother who had survived the Rogue War, protecting her two young pups against impossible odds in the bitter cold. By the time I reached the fifth page, the young children had already drifted off to sleep. But when I made a move to close the book, several women surrounding my chair looked up at me, silently begging me to continue reading.

Mia Standing in front of the orphanage, I stared at the only place that had ever felt like home. It had been almost a year since my last visit, and for the first time in years, I wished I’d never left. The world outside these walls was cruel and lonely in ways I couldn’t explain. I just wanted to escape everything. First Rolex, now Maxello… I couldn’t breathe anymore. I’d asked Bruno to cover my missed shifts and promised to pay him back once I returned. I told no one where I was going. I needed a break….from everyone, from everything.

The sun over Lagos burned without mercy, turning every metal roof into a sheet of fire. At the bus stop, the air quivered with exhaust fumes, impatient honks, and voices raised in the daily battle of survival. Promise stood apart from the crowd, clutching her bag tightly against her body. Her red heels pressed into the cracked pavement, the straps biting her ankles, but her chin stayed level. The words she had written the night before pulsed through her veins: Broken shoes, unbroken steps.

That the thing he had spent thirteen years and an incalculable amount of money and one daughter’s childhood keeping buried was no longer buried. I picked up my book. My hands were completely steady. Outside the library window the city moved in its indifferent, continuous way. The surface had cracked. Now we waited for the pieces to fall.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"People can sleep here if they need to. The owner believes books should be accessible to everyone." I wandered through the aisles slowly, pulling random books off shelves, reading first lines, getting lost in the chaos of it all. Vincent followed at a distance, letting me explore. In a section marked "Poetry," I found a slim volume with a worn cover. I opened it randomly and read: "We are all broken. That's how the light gets in." Something about those words hit me harder than they should have. "Find something?" Vincent appeared beside me. I showed him the page. He read it and smiled slightly. "Leonard Cohen. He understood brokenness better than most."

"Luna Eva! Hang in there!" Before the biting cold could consume me completely, Liam hauled me out of the water. The universal red antidote coursed down my throat, and the burning fire that had raged through my abdomen vanished instantly. I had survived. Liam had risked everything to bring me to a hidden safehouse. I lay there for three days. The red antidote gradually restored my strength, easing the poison's grip on me. However, some things were gone forever.