Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Her Betrothed Prince PROLOGUE by Jennifer Brunner (fiction novels to read .TXT) 📖
- Author: Jennifer Brunner
Book online «Her Betrothed Prince PROLOGUE by Jennifer Brunner (fiction novels to read .TXT) 📖». Author Jennifer Brunner
Prologue
Landon’s P.O.V.
***
She smiled weakly as I grabbed her hand. “Don’t cry.” She whispered. Her voice was raspy and very brittle. I needed to suck it up. She needs me. She’s the one who is weak.
Everything about her in this state is weak. I thought to myself, as yet another tear rolled down my face. With her other hand, she reached up to wipe them from under my eye. Then so slowly, that I didn’t even notice at first, she closed her own eyes, dropping her hand from my face.
My throat was thick and I couldn’t seem to swallow back anymore tears. “Please.” I wept, my eyes never leaving her face. “Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me. Please. Please. Don’t go. Please...” I repeated it so many times it became something like a chant.
“Landon...” She sighed sweetly. Those beautiful brown eyes—so familiar, yet a stranger to me—opened slowly. And as soon as they did, they dimmed, tearing her soul—and mine—from within.
***
Beep! Beep! Beep!
I jolted upright, drenched in my own sweat, maybe even tears. Most likely both.
Who was she? Why did I cry for her? Why was she bruised and in the hospital dying?
I soon found out as all the answers came slowly—one by one—within the next four months of my nightmare.
Text: I only did the blood splots on random pictures that I loved.
Publication Date: 02-18-2011
All Rights Reserved
Dedication:
To my fans, I love you all!
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