Love Letter From The Future - Chapter 8

[A Harry Potter Fanfiction]

Follow Quinn West, who finds himself in the world of Harry Potter, but are things as they seem, is the world he has landed in the same as the one he once read about.

Will Quinn able to find his way in this new world? Will he ever be able to feel like he belongs here?

What opportunity would the magic of this world provide him? Will it lead him to the light or drown him in the dark?

Tag along as Quinn makes his way into the world of magic as he discovers the secrets behind the infinite potential behind the magic that is within his grasp.

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This novel is my escape from the burnout that I suffered from my other novel. I have no solid plotline planned, there will be no definite release schedule. The reason for me writing is to improve my writing skills, light my brain cells.

As you know that there are so many Harry Potter Fanfictions out there, it is the largest FanFiction community out there, and as I write this novel, I don't have anything in my mind that isn't already out there, but I am trying to create a piece of transformative work that would pick up ideas from that wide community and create a work that would be enjoyable to read.

So, give this content a chance, and I hope that this novel would stand up to your expectations.

Love is like a battle... A bloodless battle. And every battle has casualties. But this battle leaves even more torturous wounds. Because the wounds of love are left on one's soul.

He might be covered in scars that this battle of feeling left behind, she was the cure he never even knew he was looking for.

He hid his emotions in the maze of his heart, but what to do, the wife he brought home, fancies puzzles.

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Raelle Xiang likes to have everything under her control. Being a CEO, she has always been very calculative. All her life revolved around profits. She'd avoid anything and everything that she couldn't control or calculate; for instance, feelings!

Something intangible like feelings were too bothersome for her.

Shui Xian has turned cold and aloof after the divorce that left him devastated. With enormous wealth, exceptional family back, he was still considered the ideal man but even after years, he was still single.

He chose to bury himself in work to forget the heartbreak and bitterness that someone left behind.

But what happens when this cold President gets into an arranged marriage with the feisty CEO?

One is broken by love and yet cherishes the pain it brought.

The other has always considered love to be a manipulative emotion.

One has a cold personality, the other is simply cold.

One is all about facts and logic, the other still believe in emotions.

With their similar personalities yet contradicting beliefs, what chaos this marriage is gone bring?

Will love manage to ignite?

To pass as an imperial concubine, one must be professional.

Actually, the profession of an imperial concubine is pretty good. The emperor will accompany you in eating and drinking, and even pay you for it. What’s not good about that?

- Description from Novelupdates

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”