Hold Hand Reference Novels & Stories

Mom and Aunt Denise Taylor fell off the balcony in the midst of their heated argument. Dad rushed in just as they hit the ground, each with a broken arm. Without hesitation, he left Mom behind and hurriedly took Denise to the hospital instead. Later, Mom filed for divorce. Dad's face twisted in anger as he yelled, "Enough, Nicole! So what if you broke an arm and can't hold a scalpel anymore? What's the big deal? Dee is a genius designer. If she had lost her hand, her life would've been over! Of course, I had to save her first!" Watching all this in my ghostly state, I couldn't help but laugh. Did Dad really think that Mom had only lost the use of her hand? Mom didn't just lose her hand. She lost me. After all, I had severe heart failure, and the only person who could perform the life-saving surgery was Mom, the medical master herself. But none of that matters now, because I'm already gone.

God is always fair, but the world is never fair. Sometimes to defeat bad people, you must become a bad one yourself. His bloody hands rested on his knees which were spread apart. His head was bent and he looked perfect for the job. I just offered him my hand."I don't need your help. I can get up on my own."I raised an eyebrow at him and connected my hand with his. I attempted to pull him up. But, he didn't budge. I tried again, but no luck. This time, he growled. "Stop it and get lost. Leave me alone." He pointed his finger at me. I immediately caught hold of the finger and attempted to snap it, but he was quicker than me. He caught my hand which was holding his finger and twisted it so that my arm was strangling my own neck and I was pressed against his chest. We broke into a fight and in the end, we both were breathless and I was straddling him.

I was shot in the chest, blood trickling from my mouth. And the one who held the gun…was the man I loved. I crumbled beside Nancy, my maid, who was shot clean in the head while trying to protect me. If only second chances existed…I’ll make them pay. Then darkness swallowed me. Waking up, I found myself alive and a man of devilish allure sitting next to me. “Marry me and watch them pay for their sins.” I took his hand, agreeing to his demand with one goal: revenge. I would make each and everyone beg for mercy. Hold on dear family, my sweet revenge has just begun.

I quickly rushed ahead and saw her lying near the edge where the huge cut tree had fallen a few days ago. Half of her body was resting in water while the other half was resting on the side of the tree. "No," I whispered as I ran ahead, instantly jumping into the river and grabbing her body, pulling it into my arms. I was sniffling and trying to hold back my tears while I swam back to land. Once she was placed on the ground, I looked at her helplessly, tears running down my cheeks. My body was trembling, and my wolf was whimpering loudly. I felt nauseous, and my head was throbbing badly. "She's fine," I said to myself in a cracked voice as I raised my hand and placed it on her chest. "Alpha!" Harvey called when he reached where I was. I looked at him with blurry vision, then back at my mate. "Why?" I whispered in a cracked voice. "Why can't I feel her heartbeat, Harvey?" I asked with a heavy heart, then moved my hand to my chest as I felt like I was suffocating.

Lyra Blackwood loved an Alpha and was erased for it. Condemned as a human who dared to bond with a wolf, Lyra’s world burns in a single night of judgment and betrayal. Her parents are killed. Her home is reduced to ash. And the pack she trusted declares her a threat that must be removed. But Lyra survives. She awakens in a hidden territory of exiled wolves—survivors of fallen packs bound by loss rather than blood. There, the truth of her lineage surfaces, along with a forbidden Alpha power thought annihilated generations ago. As Lyra begins to understand what she is and what was stolen from her, war stirs. And Cassian Blackthorne, newly crowned Alpha of Thorneveil, is forced to hunt the woman he cannot feel disappear. In a world where power demands sacrifice, Lyra must decide: Will she rule through destruction… or redefine what it means to be a Luna? ⚠️DISCLAIMER⚠️ Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents portrayed are products of the author’s imagination. No part of this work is intended to depict or reference real individuals, occurrences or existing narratives.

The wedding had been postponed ninety-nine times. I called the wedding planner and told them to change the bride's name to Ivy Sterling, Charles Hart's childhood sweetheart. "Donna, are you sure?" the planner asked cautiously. "This time, the Don didn't postpone again." I heard the surprise in his voice. My answer was calm. "Yes. Change it to Ivy Sterling." From the very beginning, Charles gave only one instruction for the wedding: "Adjust the decorations according to Ivy's taste." He explained that Ivy had good taste, that she would only serve as a reference for our wedding. But every choice, the flowers, the favors, the entrance music, was made by Ivy. Even my wedding dress. She had said lightly, "A mermaid silhouette suits her better." So I decided to give the entire wedding, steeped in her presence, to them. And I walked away from this farce completely. From now on, let him keep his old dreams. I will go and enjoy my own boundless sky.

After the death of the Alpha couple, Olivia had to face the ruthless truth about her upbringing. With nothing left to hold her down, she ran to escape the memories that weren't hers. But this time, she didn't run with nothing; she ran with his mark burning as deep as her soul. *** The crowd of wolves gasped in horror. Some screamed, and many women burst into tears while their Alpha licked the blood from Olivia's skin. Olivia shivered when his disgusting lips left her neck. Noah's hand ran through her hair, grabbing a fistful of her snow-white curls; he pulled her against his body and whispered, "Good luck avoiding me now, rogue." ***

Keerthi felt a hand under her chin ,coaxing her to look up ,as she met with warm brown eyes ,in their darkest shade. Her eyes went to her husband's lips, wetting her own involuntarily, when she felt Vikram's hold tighten. She blushed, looking down, her face felt on fire. Vikram pulled her chin up, forcing her to look at him. "Keerthi", Vikram started gruffly ,his voice laced with desire, their lips merely brushing, teasing one another, "We should go to sleep now if you don't want it to continue any further." Keerthi's face flamed at her husband's insinuation. But dammit,she wanted to be kissed. For the first time ever.

I had always shared a perfect relationship with my mother-in-law, Betsy Dutton. We were the model pair of a wealthy family. She and my father-in-law, Rourke Dutton had been childhood sweethearts, their bond seemingly unbreakable. But one day, she told me something that changed my entire perception of them.  She clutched my hand and tears were streaming down her face. “Naomi,” she sobbed, “your father-in-law… he’s been keeping a mistress. They even have a child together! “For over ten years, I’ve been in the dark, made into a laughingstock!” My throat tightened, and I couldn’t hold back my own confession.  “Mom, actually… Julius is no better. He bought a whole apartment building for his mistress!” We wept in each other’s arms, our heartbreak spilling out in waves.  After what felt like an eternity, she sniffled and straightened herself. “Men are utterly unreliable creatures!” “I’m done with that old man, Naomi!” I gripped her hand tightly. “Mom, wherever you go, I’ll follow. I’m done with Julius, too!”

After joining the nation's top research lab as a sophomore, everyone assumes I've taken shortcuts to get there. Mom throws away the handmade gift I had spent days crafting and says with disdain, "I don't have a daughter who's this shameless." Andreas Fitzgerald, my fiance, doesn't hold back, either. He warns coldly, "Remember your place as Mrs. Fitzgerald." Later, when my younger sister, Elaine Wilde, destroys my left hand, they all pressure me to drop the matter. I wake up in the hospital, pain crawling up my arm, and I know exactly what I have to do. Without hesitation, I dial my mentor, George Landon's, number. "I'm ready to join the classified national rocket program."