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@journeyofrose
Book blurb Book 1 B.L.A.L series by C.F. Grönroos
Book blurb for first book of the new murder mystery romance book series by C.F. Grönroos
Book blurb for Book 1 of new Murder mystery romance book series B.L.A.L by the Author C.F. Grönroos.
Where the story and dangerous journey begins for Laura and Sam.
I never knew that love could grew something so bitter. Not even bittersweet. Just something that is purely bitter. So absolutely bitter itâs actually scary. In heart that had been so loving. How could that happen? Love so sweet and innocent. Turned into that awful pitch black bitterness. #poem
Poem that turned into 3 poems instead of 1. Wednesday I started to write new poem. But right after I got into writing it little bit. There was something that just didn't feel right and I lost the original inspiration. So I stopped writing and read what I wrote. #behindthepoem
Her heart had a sign. Placed outside of it. That spelled in big letters. Only two words. KEEP OUT!!! It was written red letters. On black metal sign. She had put it up. Like a stop sign. Or no trespassing allowed. And she meant it. She had enough. With empty words and broken promises. #poem
There is more than song that puts me in good mood. And these are the first songs that did come into my mind immediately. I know that my happy songs will make most be like and this is what she calls a "happy" song? Yes each of these puts me in good mood and makes happy. #dailywritingprompt
I guess there was something wrong. With the shooting star. That we made that wish. To have this love last forever. Or was it fault of the stars. We thought our love story was written onto. Or was it just spelled wrong. Donât know nothing but. One thing that you ainât here. #poem
You keep pulling me back. Every time I try to walk away. My heart is heavy. And full of blame. That belongs more to you. Than me. Because you know what you did. You know. We donât talk anymore. Weâre stuck in this endless silence. Just pretending how this ainât pain. Just love. #poem
Boy keep speaking. We both know. There is no meaning behind your words. They are just empty. Nothing but waste of time. Did you know I got bored with your empty words? That meant nothing. I finally did see how empty and hollow you were inside. There was nothing why I should have stayed. #poem
If fame is the torch. Then youâre the moth. Addicted to flame. Willing to do anything. To staying in the light of fame. No matter the cost. Just like thousand others before. And after you. Willing do anything to get next shot of fame. Have your daily dose. That you need feed. Your addiction of fame.
She still believes in fate. And destiny that is waiting for her. But most of all. She believes in love. Of course she believes in true love too. Especially she believes that love conquers all. That is her North Star. She has never lost sight of. No matter what. #poem
Yes I do believe. Which kinda don't come surprise since stories I write go under murder mystery romance and romantic suspense genres. Even though they ain't purely romance stories nor genres. But romance is still big part of the stories. So believing in soulmates kinda comes with the territory.
Something once had been her biggest treasure. So precious to her. That she had kept safe carefully. Were the love letters. She had save them all. But now she burned those letters. Watching the ink turning into smoke. And paper into ashes. As the flames of the campfire. Make the letters disappear.
She was so certain every single day. In every way. To what she found. Was the perfect way. To live her life. The certainty. That no one could make her question it. That love would conquer all. No matter what. In the end love will always win. Even after having her heart broken. #poem
He keeps writing down his own misery. Yet he remains so blind to it. That everything that had leaded him there. Were all his own choices. He had chosen this path. And he went down. All the way down following it. For whatever reason. He originally had chosen it. It had been a choice. #poem
The end is where we beginning. As hard as it. As devastating and destructive. It all is. At that precise moment. But that ending. Is always a beginning. Of something else. Something new. Something unplanned. But most of the time. Itâs not wanted beginning. Especially at the start. #poem
You thought you could cut me. And get away with it. That I would be like the others before me. That you could just cut me down in pieces. Make yourself feel better. And play all your nasty little games. That you could cut me. And I would just bleed silently. Take all the hurt and pain. #poem
Oh youâre just so funny. And you keep âjokingâ around. After all. Itâs all just a joke. Nothing serious, right? And your friends. Finds itâs so funny how he is the punchline. Of all your jokes. But that is not only punchline. He is to you. He is the punchline. That gets hits and punches. #poem