A Historical Fiction Book Novelas e Histórias

Arielle rolled her eyes but smiled faintly. “Suit yourself.” She wandered into a bookstore nearby. The cool smell of paper and wood filled the small space. For the first time all day, she felt relaxed. No tense silences. No careful conversations. Just quiet. After twenty minutes she returned outside with a book in her hands. Roman glanced at the cover. “Romance?” “Absolutely not.” “Looks suspicious.” “It’s historical fiction.” “Same thing.” Arielle laughed despite herself. “You’re impossible.” Roman opened the car door again.

Then she remembered- while she was exploring her room, she had seen one of the cupboards that had books in it, and she went in search of one. She found a few titles and decided to stick to some historical romance she found, about the Comanche warriors and blood moons, Texans, war and the Prairie. It was just as she sat down that she heard Charity's familiar knocking pattern. Pulling open the door, she saw her friends and ushered them in.

Heck, had I found out about this place sooner, I wouldn't have left it. “So many books,” I whispered, awestruck. I tried to peer at the fictional section, but looked away. That could wait. This needed our urgent attention. “Yeah,” she muttered as she led me deeper into the library. “But we better focus. These are the history books…” she mumbled, carefully studying the titles and the covers of the thick, dust covered books. “I am looking for one specific book…” I sighed picking one, rather heavy book that had a red cover. Wolves… the title said.

he answered, and this just made me even more curious to ask him more questions. “Even though you can order it, but then it would take days for it to get here and you need it right now, so you had to come here,” I answered, giving him an explanation, and he nodded in agreement, immediately locking in. “What’s the name of this book?” I asked, and he swallowed. “Just an old classic historical romance book; Rebellious Love by Maura Seger,” he answered, and I slowly nodded. “Okay then,” I said as I took slow steps away from him.

“But immediately you feel better, I’m taking you down here. What kind of books do you like? Fiction, non-fiction or historical?” “Any really, but mostly historical.” I replied in a more cherry voice. Her excitement is starting to rub off on me. “Ooohh, which books have you read? I bet you that I know.” “Lycan history mostly.” Her smile broadened. “I have just what you would love.”

Michelle said as she showed Hailey a thick and elegant book. It was a thick and large book, obviously very heavy. Its name was, “The History of Fashion.”

he growled as he left the room, slamming the door close, heading towards the direction of the attic and the library. Meanwhile, I sat down down on a swirl chair in the mini library that housed not less than one hundred books, getting sleepy over the interesting novel I was reading when I heard Armani practically screaming my name as he approached the library. The novel was all about a young mistress in search of her missing master with the hope of a happy reunion when she finally sees him.The story was set to medivial times of old, the year seventeenth hundredths to be precise. The novel was the first thing that caught my attention when I stepped into the library. It had a fantastic silver c

Maybe I wouldn’t get to eat waffles all the time, but I’d live. A glint of gold caught my eye. I turned and went towards the book. As I grew closer, I realized that this whole section was made of older books. The one with the gold on the binding looked a little newer, but not by much. I pulled the book off the shelf and frowned. “A History of Werewolves.” I carried it to my room. It was a really thick book, so I knew that it was going to take me a few days to get through it. I’d probably get through it the day they got back.

She reached for a piece immediately—and hissed when it burned her fingers. “Careful. It’s hot.” I picked it up, blowing on it, cooling it down without thinking—like you would for a kid. “I do,” she said, and when I looked up, she was blushing. “I really do. I used to have a lot of books… but they’re all back at my parents’ house.” “I see. Then mine might seem boring. Most girls your age go for romance novels, and I don’t have many of those.” “You do have some amazing historical ones,” she said quickly. “I even saw a couple of my favorites.”

He takes it and scans the lines quickly. “Where did you get this?” I ask. “My parents collected books from all over the world. I have no idea where this one came from.” His face stays mostly blank as he reads. He clearly doesn’t care much for old books. “These are just boring words.” “This is history about Zephyra’s kind. They’re called Crimson Born in this book, and if you look here, they have a queen usually sent down by the goddess.” “This is just fiction.” “Who writes fiction this way?” I groan. “Look at how it’s written