1-2-3-magic Book Novels & Stories

"I don't know how to even fucking read.” I bit down in my lip, my mind running with words I could give that'd convince him. "Well, it's not really just a book,” I said, lifting the book back up. "This is a magic spell book that grants all your fucking wishes. You don't even have to read from it. Just open and say whatever the fuck it is that you want, and it magically gives that to you.” Stan arched a brow. "And why haven't you used it to get you some food?”

But instead of old stories from my grandmother’s life, the pages were scrawled with strange symbols and sketches—shorthand in her handwriting explaining the purpose of different runes and sigils. Flipping through the pages, there were sketches of wolves, and the last page that she’d written in had a detailed rendition of a nightmarish wolf-beast that made my blood run cold at the sight of it, it’s eyes smudged over with charcoal in the shape of a protective rune. My heart raced when I realized what I was holding. This was no ordinary journal, it was a spell book.

***the previous chapter is the last chapter in which Amory’s POV will appear. We have now arrived at the point of the original book ‘Damaged’ on the chapter titled ‘Three Years Later’ if you wish to read both books as they occur in-sync with each other*** Amory is behind the bar dressed in a black halter top with black booty shorts and silver stilettos, which is typical for her, and I see her kick into high gear when Sy starts waving to get someone’s attention. We all know that this is do-or-die time! But a couple of drunk dumb fucks smashed to the ground behind me, breaking glasses and spilling liquor everywhere.

I can visualize the clock wheels turning in his head, trying to decide if I am capable of understanding the complex poem. I like a challenge! I sit, ignoring the warmth spreading through my body as I lie close to Bryce, opening the tome, and I gasp. The artwork on the page is beautiful and elegant. The lettering reminds me of "The Book of Kells," a real work of art. But I do not have the time to carefully examine the intricate patterns and designs created in different colored inks.

I thought as I sat down. I think I have finally found my secret spot and it's perfect. I said as I sat down on a bench and stretched my body, allowing the sunrays to fall on me. I quickly remembered what I was supposed to do and I brought out a book, small black book with red lock. It may look like a diary but it's much worse. Luckily it can only be opened with magic so even if it fell in the wrong hands, the secrets it contained will still be safe. I opened the book and on the first page was engraved these words.

I pricked my thumb with a new needle, placed it over the hole and blood seeped it before my wound began to heal. Amber light rounded the big book, followed by its sudden shaking, before the pages began to flip themselves. By dropping the blood, the book detects the magic you want and flips to the page. If you dare touched the insides of the book, it would burn your skin. I had learnt that the hard way. The pages stopped flipping and the book rose in the air, as if offering a decree. Barrier spell. To be used just twice by a single person. To any other missionier, it was a simple spell. But in my case, I had to use a huge deal of power.

His eyes caught on a footnote at the bottom: See also: Fated Bonds for cases of supernatural attraction overriding species instinct. Nathan froze. The Special Section required faculty permission, but the wolf in him recognized opportunity. He waited until the librarian stepped away before slipping behind the circulation desk. The Special Section door opened with a creak that set his teeth on edge. Inside, the air smelled different—older, heavier with magic. His night vision sharpened as he scanned the shelves until he found it: Fated Bonds: When Instinct Overrides Reason. The cover felt strangely warm under his fingertips, bound in what his wolf recognized immediately as wolfskin.

Apparently, he already had a house ready in France, where we could move in at any time. On February 29, 2008, I sat down with Margareth at the table in the living room, where we laid out the book of magic and all the things needed for the ritual - in particular, a few drops of our blood, which was to connect us telepathically with our mother, and a card with her full name and surname, which was to facilitate contact with the right person. Oliver was sitting in one of the armchairs, holding Alex on his lap, who in turn was staring at what I was doing with my sister like he was charmed. Until now, this mobile baby sat totally still, only sucking on his fingers.

For someone who was trained to read body language, I found this excessively annoying. A moment of silenced passed between us before she said with a voice filled with resolve, “Let us begin.” Walking slowly around me, she said in a confident tone that was free of malice, “The training consists of three parts… physical, mental, and magical. Your muscles are soft. Therefore, we will begin with the physical. It does no good to know magic if your body is not performing at its utmost best. Magic can be energetically depleting. Some magic is so complex that it could actually drain your body to the extent that you lose your life. Being as strong and fit as you can be can help deter such a tr

I again made my way inside the library and sat behind my desk waiting for this important secret. Thomas waved his hands and an old leather bound book fell on my desk. It opened on its own and I wasted no time reading the faded black lettering inside. The first page told of a way to neutralize a winter faerie’s magic. I looked up surprised at Thomas who was grinning from ear to ear. He made the book disappear again and with his blue eyes twinkling said,” Now you know what to do my king.”