Where The Lies Novels & Stories

He asked, “There’s no more to it, I was banished as I said earlier hence you met me at the desert” I couldn’t remember the words I said to him earlier so I wrapped my head around the basis of my lies. One thing I hate about lies is that I’m not good at it and when the truth unfolds it would be disastrous. “Ok if you say so, I hate lies and one thing I hate about them is the consequences the teller faces” He chuckles as I put a smile on my face.

It tasted of absolutely nothing except mayonnaise. I sat staring out at the darkness rushing past the window while random thoughts kept nudging at the edges of my exhaustion. Missing pieces. New pieces. No pieces at all. There were lies so small they hardly mattered, the sort you could choose to believe or ignore without consequence. Then there were lies that looked harmless on the surface but carried enormous ramifications underneath. And sometimes deception wasn’t about what somebody said—it was about what they deliberately left unsaid. Jock’s lies always hovered dangerously close to the truth.

The grief, pain, and screams all at once returned In droves. "If he truly misses he would have called but he didn’t, he truly misses me he would have responded to the messages I sent but he didn’t, if he truly misses me he would have visited or let me visit but you what! He didn’t" I just had to stop talking; I have nothing to say right now, if I continue talking I would burst into tears. After so many years, of believable lies and fake love, I can’t deal with this anymore. He doesn’t miss me, he doesn’t even care. "Dani!" He sighed

All of which were true, even if the truth itself was a lie. When Noah graduated college, I cried harder than I had in years. He got a job in New York big lights, big stage, big world. I packed his bags and kissed his forehead. “Call me every Sunday,” I said, fighting tears. He hugged me so tightly that I almost broke and told him everything. But I didn’t. Months passed. Then one Sunday, his voice sounded different. “Mom… I met someone. Well, not like that. A man. Older. He hired me. We talk a lot.”

Mara — The Art of the Half-Truth The folder sat between them like a third person in the room. Mara had learned, in four years of becoming what Hayes had made of her, that the most effective lies were not the ones built entirely from fiction. Fiction had gaps — places where the architecture showed, where the light came through wrong and the person you were lying to felt the draft without knowing where it came from. The most effective lies were the ones built around a true thing, the way a house is built around a load-bearing wall. You constructed the fiction outward from something real, and the realness held everything up.

The ravenette scowls, creasing his facial features, "Aren't you afraid of telling the truth?" "Why would I be afraid of telling the truth?" Ryan swings his arms, "Shouldn't I be afraid of telling a lie and getting caught instead?" "That is quite not true, Mr. Miller," the man's words carry an unsettling mass to each of them, "Truths and lies are time, place, person based. Where you should say what, that is to be decided according to the surrounding circumstances. You get me? You know how many idiots have gotten away just with the help of a lie?"

Like he'd changed what he was going to say at the last second. "That's bullshit." "Excuse me?" "You were going to say something else. Don't lie to me." "I'm not lying." "Yes you are. You do this thing where your voice gets all flat when you're lying. It's a tell." "I don't have a tell." "You absolutely have a tell." I stepped closer to him, getting in his space now. "Just admit what you were going to say." "There's nothing to admit." "Liar." "Thalia, drop it."

“If you’re going to lie, at least make it something believable. Like… you’ve been sleeping in the library or with your secret boyfriend. Not the Apex penthouse.” I stared at her. She stared right back. “Eliza, I’m not lying.” She waved a hand. “Look, I don’t care where you sleep. You’re an adult. You want to shack up with your mate or a boyfriend? Fine. Your business. Just don’t lie about it. Especially not something that insane.” I opened my mouth to argue, but… what could I say? That I’m not only staying there, but all four of them are my mates?

Nobody wants to be lied to, least of all me, but what she did has remained lodged in my belly like a burr the size of a plum. I pull up short before I turn the corner near her bedroom. Of course. It's because of who I am ... because of what I am. A lie between ordinary people can be waved away. A thing of simplicity solved with an apology or a cheap gift. But here in this underworld I've spent my entire life in, lies are dangerous. To deceive someone here among the corrupt and cruel is to declare war. If one of my men lied to me, I'd assume their plan was a betrayal.

He blew out a short breath. Gavin became silent as well. "Don't forget that the two of you are living with lies," he added. "I'm aware of the lies I made," Gavin uttered back. "St—" "What lies?" The two of them paused and froze. Luna stopped behind them with her brows crossed. "What lies have you made, Gavin?"