Amber Spyglass Book Novels & Stories

I found a book that seemed nice and pulse-racing, Blood Brothers by Nora Roberts. I took it off the shelf and looked back at Ashton who was now holding Jack in his hands. I went to the till and paid for the book. We then went out of the shop and headed to the car park. When we got to the car park, I got in and took Jack from Ashton to remove him from the cover and place him back on the stand. It was around 5:30 pm so we still had some time before heading home. Ashton read that from my mind and then he went around the car, got in and sat on the seat next to mine.

Jasper’s dark eyes lit up as an enthusiastic grin practically consumed his square jawed face while greeting his assistant. “Of all mornings for you to be late,” he eagerly said as he jumped up from his microscope and directed her to look through it. “Take a look.” With a slight limp, she made her way toward him. She smiled as she moved between him and the end of the equipment laden table that held the microscope.

the blonde angel asked no one on particular as she strolled about " haah my God is lost should I put up fliers?.....*silence* hey ,hey I know that was stupid okay don't ridicule me" she walks on as she soon encounters a black haired man and woman . ' humans?' she thought but then she sees their eyes one has silver eyes while the man has red eyes and his pupils are like slits the girl suddenly spreads her wings jet black wings which have a glow about them but not eerie. ' fallen? but the girl those eyes that glow with those wings it can only be' "Darka?" both figures turn their heads and stare at the blonde girl when the male dashes forward in the blink of an eye and takes a hold of her neck

The silver key suddenly flared brightly. Everyone shielded their eyes. The projection changed again. The doorway expanded. Growing clearer. Growing closer. And then something appeared beyond it. A room. Small. Simple. Unexpectedly ordinary. No throne. No machinery. No impossible cosmic structure. Just a room. A desk. A chair. A single window. And on the desk— A book. Ama stopped breathing. Because she recognized it. Not consciously. Instinctively. The same way someone recognizes their own handwriting. The book belonged to her.

However, she found it hard to concentrate on the book that had fascinated her previously. Amy appeared sullen and unsettled. She put down the medical book and walked to the window to clear her mind. Outside, the dim yellow streetlights illuminated a meticulously tended garden. The cool autumn breeze blew through her hair and gradually calmed her previously agitated mood. At this moment, Amy finally felt relaxed enough to appreciate the view. The night sky was much darker there than in the city, and it had a lot more visible stars twinkling beautifully. She did not know how long she stood there before she heard the sound of the door opening.

The observation hung between them, raw and unspoken. Clarisse plucked a slim volume from the shelf—Sappho’s fragments, its cover worn soft by time. "My favorite," she said, tracing the spine with that finger. "She wrote about love in broken pieces. Like us." She didn’t look at Amara, but her words landed like stones in still water. Like us. Amara reached for a book on her own—Machiavelli’s The Prince, the Italian edition she’d read on the jet. Her fingers brushed the scar on her wrist as she opened it, the silver line catching the dim light.

My blood runs cold, why am I the only one who can read this? “Aspen can.” Griffon states, his voice devoid of any emotion, like he doesn’t want me to sense how scared he is about that. But I can feel it in his tense stance and how his body is shaking ever so slightly. Hazel’s head snaps up and her eyes bleed into mine. “You can?” I nod. She looks back at the book. “I don’t even remember how this book got into my shop, but Amy grabbed it when we were leaving to run. I don’t even know if she thought it was important. We just grabbed what we could and took off, but she was obsessed with finding someone to read it. She sat on the couch in the trailer for hours a day trying to decipher anything f

Douglass accepted the challenge and looked back at Amethyst who had acted on an impulse and snatched the book from his hands. "There were two books — the book of Spells and the book of Prophecies. Why only this one?" Turning every page of the book, Amethyst investigated, narrowing her eyes at Douglass who never said anything else. Amethyst swiftly stopped turning the pages and stopped on one page that had her name written boldly at the top. Her eyes widened with unspeakable fear that attracted the attention of both Liam and Douglass. "M-my b…blood is needed for the…rebirth of the demon…?" She gasped and the book elegantly fell from her hands.

NARRATOR'S POV The chamber was silent but for the soft, rhythmic drip of condensation hitting stone. The walls were laced with shadows, thick and unmoving. In the center of the room sat a sphere swirling, pale light pulsing within it like a heart. And beside it, like a queen in her obsidian throne, sat Alexa. Her fingers hovered over the surface of the scrying orb, tracing the image that shimmered within. None other than Mira. Her hands touched the book, and the symbols began to glow.