Untainted Book Novels & Stories

I mumbled, getting annoyed at the mere fact that I heard his voice the moment I was celebrating his absence. It made me feel how wrong I was and how Luca's presence would always glue to me even though he was absent. Deciding to enjoy the few hours I had, I sat comfortably on the sliding bench. The bright ray of the warm sun shone onto my skin, emitting a dark orange glow. TINT by Morrison Ishanique was the title of my book, written by a Jamaican author. It was my first ever Jamaican read, and though the language barrier, I still understood a little of every word. It was all thanks to my interest in languages too.

Zelene Sallow: "You never mentioned having a twin," Oscar and Shane trailed behind me after an exhaustive search for weresin-related materials in the vast library. "It's unbelievable that such a crucial subject has only one surviving book, and even that one was mostly destroyed," I murmured, rolling my eyes at the two of them. Shane was still clinging to Yuna, and I was growing impatient with him. "But the book stated—," Oscar interrupted, darting in front of me and blocking the entrance to Shane's bedroom.

His voice was smooth and windy, locked around her like the coiling of smoke. “ You can never be trusted, they would always see you as an endangered person, a dangerous force locked within the confine of their consciousness. No matter how you try to conform, their cage is your fate. But with me, no chains, no law would bind you, but only the reality of the untamed that was taken unfairly away from you.” Lydia reached out towards him, with her fingers trembling with expectation. And for the first time, she experienced an unfamiliar warmth against her fingertips - vibrant and alive. It was as if she felt hopeful within her.

Just delete the book from your library and add it back. Thank you! Sincerely yours Author Blackangel

I touch its glass cover and to my surprise, it vanishes in just a snap. The book floats mid-air and emits blinding light. It starts glowing and the pages start to turn. A few moments afterward, the pages stop turning. The glow starts to vanish, and the book moves toward my hand. Just like the book I was reading earlier, it has a leather hardbound cover and its title are embroidered with gold. 'The Untold' I said as I've read the title. I turn the cover and start reading once again. ----- THIRD PERSON’S POINT OF VIEW

I replied softly. He returned swiftly with a bandage and a tube of ointment. Kneeling before me, he examined my feet. “Which one is it?” “The left,” I answered, utterly bewildered by this turn of events. His fingers gently probed my swollen ankle, and I inhaled sharply, wincing at the tenderness. As he worked with a surprising diligence, applying the ointment with careful strokes, I found myself studying him. His black, wavy hair was cut short, its silken texture catching the light. His lashes were unfairly long and thick. I watched, mesmerized, as he unconsciously ran his tongue over his lower lip in concentration.

Mathias warns me to not open it. “Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Tawny flips the simple catch on the box and opens the lid. Inside is a single leather-bound book, about five or six inches thick, with pressed paper. The book was indeed old. I lift the book out, place it next to the box it came in and open the cover. “Well, that sucks,” Clicking her tongue and throwing her hands on her hips, Tawny says, “Are all the pages written in code?”

The odds seemed stacked against her, and the weight of the situation was almost unbearable. Nysaa then noticed another set of documents and a journal that Dr. Ruiz had managed to salvage before her house was demolished. These items were precious to her, a small piece of her past that had survived Mace's ruthless actions. She realized that the journal contained the story of her foster mother's life, the pain she had endured, and the vendetta she held against the Sinclair family, especially Mace.

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Tasting the filth, the fire, the fever he wrote into every page of my skin. The next morning, a box sat on the kitchen counter. Hardcover, freshly printed. My was name on the cover—and his. ‘Yours, Uncensored.’ “Is this—?” I asked, fingers trembling over the title. “Our story,” he said behind me, pulling my robe down to bare my shoulder. “Every filthy, furious, unforgettable chapter.” “You’re insane,” I breathed. “And you love it.” He kissed the top of my spine. The back cover quote? I read it aloud.