8 Days Book Novels & Stories

300 words.Please write a description for your story with 20 to 300 words.Please write a description for your story with 20 to 300 words.Please write a description for your story with 20 to 300 words.Please write a description for your story with 20 to 300 words.Please write a description for your story with 20 to 300 words.Please write a description for your story with 20 to 300 words.Please write a description for your story with 20 to 300 words.Please write a description for your story with 20 to 300 words.Please write a description for your story with 20 to 300 words.Please write a description for your story with 20 to 300 words.Please write a description for your story with 20 to 300 wor

I reached for the first book on the pile and immediately fell in love with the cake on the front page. This was going to be harder than I thought it would be. "Where the hell is Min Jun?" I questioned scrolling through the third book and choosing my sixth design. I reached out to my phone to call him but my call was sent to voicemail. He couldn't be seriously avoiding my calls. He was meant to be here 10 minutes ago.

He looked at the window, at the garden, at the light. The eighth year was inhabitable. The book was the next thing. The accumulation continued.

The weather has matched his mood perfectly for twenty-three days now. Twenty-three days. Twenty-three days since Flora's demise. Twenty-three days of this purgatory, watching her breathe but not live. "I brought you a good book you are gonna like," Lucas says, reaching into his messenger bag. He pulls out a dog-eared copy of *Pride and Prejudice*, its spine cracked from frequent reading. "I thought I might read to you again today. The nurses say that's good—that you might be able to hear me." He opens to where the bookmark indicates his progress and clears his throat.

Millie says digging through her bag. “Alright,” I say looking back out the window and watching little ants of people walking around. An hour later Millie leaves for her first meeting looking like a sexy little businesswoman. I’m exhausted from the early morning flight so I turn off all the lights, close the shades of the windows, and tuck myself into the stiff bed. Normally I’d complain about a stiff mattress but it’s doing wonders for my tense back. I read another chapter of my sexy, filthy erotic novel and close my eyes to dreamland.

Lyra was terrified and sobbing, while Grandma wiped her tears and tried to calm everyone down. I floated above and watched everything, but I felt nothing. Death had made me indifferent. Nothing affected me anymore. The funeral was simple, quiet, and cold. On the second day of the New Year, a day usually for visiting relatives, our home was instead set up as a mourning hall.

Tyson smirked. “31 Days.” Chance affirmed. “Which Day was today”? He asked. “Ninth.” Dr. Tyson added. “Twenty two days to go, man I am gonna savor these.” with a devilish smirk, Chance declared.

My mother’s face was all I saw when I closed my eyes, so I had to distract myself by continuously looking out of the window. Damiano was sitting close to me, holding my hand and caressing it. “How many days…?” I asked quietly, watching as we drove past the fields. I had no sense of time, and I had no idea how many days had passed since that day. “You were out for three days.” He said, surprising me with his answer. “Eight days have passed.” I swallowed hard at the information. Eight days had gone by. Eight days I had somehow survived and lived without a mother. How was I supposed to continue living my life like this?

Keith said in conclusion as he rose to his feet. "Oh, I'm also taking Jennabeth along." I hope y'all had a great read. Thank you for reading "Sixty Days With You." It truly had been sixty days with y'all. To read more of my books, check out the new MM Romance book I recently released titled ' KILLIAN'S GAME.' You'd love it and I promise it's a happy ending!!

The contents of the pen drive Brody showed me and the notebook made up the full truth of what I had gone through over the past two years. [Brody said that this is the 80th week since I got transient global amnesia, and this is the hell he’s made for me. [Someone, please save me…] Every page contained a desperate cry for help, but no one could answer it. Even if I did not have my passport, I could still leave this place first. So, I approached the door with only the clothes on my back. But when I grabbed the door knob, I could not open it, even though I had just opened the door yesterday when a package arrived.