Anime Bookshelves Novels & Stories

There was a leather couch in the corner, a bar cart with expensive-looking bottles of whiskey, and a window that overlooked the estate grounds. It was the kind of room that screamed power and control. The kind of room that belonged to a man like Jonathan Hart. I walked over to the bookshelves, running my fingers along the spines. Most of them were business books, biographies of CEOs and politicians, a few on philosophy. Then I noticed something odd. One of the shelves looked… different. Like it didn’t quite sit flush with the wall. I reached out and pressed against it gently. There was a soft click, and the shelf swung inward.

He says as he pushed open a large wooden door then steps aside for me to go in first. I stepped inside, and my eyes widened in awe. The library was a vast room, filled with rows upon rows of bookshelves that stretched all the way to the ceiling. The shelves were made of a rich, dark wood, and they were lined with books of every shape and size. There were leather-bound tomes with gold lettering, paperback novels with colorful covers, and even ancient-looking manuscripts with yellowed pages. The room was dimly lit, with only a few soft lamps to illuminate the space. But despite the lack of light, the room felt warm and inviting, like a cozy little sanctuary. I could imagine spending hours in h

It was everlasting smell of good books. The bookshelves are so tall that ladders are even present in every corners. Also shelves that seems to stick on the walls, they are much taller than the shelves at the center. Everything seems to arrange per catalogue, I could see some of it just by standing here. Also there’s a lot tables, long and double ones. From the left I could also see some things that looks like a crystal ball, maps, and are that breakers? There’s also some flask, droppers, and test tubes!

Tall windows lined one wall, their glass segmented into stained panes that turned the morning light into soft golds and blues, painting long, colorful rectangles across the floor. Floor to ceiling bookshelves covered the rest of the walls, real shelves, packed tight with volumes upon volumes of every size. Some spines were pristine, stamped with clean titles and crisp pages. Others were cracked and faded with age, cloth frayed at the edges, leather worn smooth. There were shelves of modern binders and printed reports tucked beside ancient looking tomes bound in dark hide, their titles almost unreadable.

The once innocent lad is now at the ripe age of ten years old and for five years, learning and living under the headmaster’s world. Within the smallest of rooms and on the bottom floor rest a space that has been lived in for nearly five years. There are two cots on opposite ends of the squared-off chamber and on each end right by the beds are a pair of twin desks. These davenports have been through endless generations of usages it seems. The top of the wooden surface has tally marks and names carved inside the framework. By the looks of it, a knife did most of the work. Its legs are thick and provide a foundation for the four legs to hold up the endless weight of others' subsequent life duri

"I bruise like a peach!" The door slammed shut, the lock clicking, and I was alone. The room was unexpected. It looked like a private library. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined three walls, filled with leather-bound volumes that looked older than my entire bloodline. A massive fireplace dominated the fourth wall, unlit but stacked with logs. Two high-backed leather chairs sat in front of it, and a small table between them held a crystal decanter of something amber. Very cozy, very ‘let's have a civilized chat before I ruin your life.’

“You sure they can’t take it from me?” He nodded. “Absolutely.” We drove the rest of the way to a small house in the middle of town. He led me inside and my mouth dropped open as we moved through it. Every wall in every room was filled to the brim with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. On 95% of them, there were hundreds of books. On the rest of them were beautiful glass, crystal and porcelain figurines of almost every single type of bear and wolf. Every room had a light system that would make reading at any time of the day easy. Every single window was ornately designed with stained glass scenes that took my breath away.

Checked all the time, as much when she was a child, as when she was an adult. The books were placed in circular shaped shelves that covered the walls, with the only exception of Annabelle's spacious and padded window seat. Besides that, there was an armchair and a sofa, both dark brown leather, high-backed, and very comfortable, made with oak wood, and served as the usual spot in which the helper in turn, spent as much time as Annabelle chose to stay there. Sometimes a couple of hours, some other times ten minutes, depending on how thin was the young woman's patience that day on being watched.

After my lunch break, however, when I've done every other task I can think of, I'm forced to acknowledge that it's finally time to suck it up and start working on the piles of merchandise. I consider going all in and diving right into the T-shirts, but I decide it's better to start with something a little safer. Something that isn't going to bring my lunch right back up. Like... books. An entire bookshelf got knocked over in the scuffle, and the volumes are scattered across the floor. Books aren't obnoxious like neon clothing and key chains, right? Wrong.

She walked to the library as Alarick directed and opened the door, her eyes widening in amazement at the sight before her. There were rows and rows of bookshelves, filled with books of all sizes and colors. The room was dimly lit, with sunlight filtering in through the windows and casting shadows on the ground. Leanda could feel a sense of peace and tranquility emanating from the room. The library was a sight to behold. The room was spacious with high ceilings and walls lined with towering bookshelves made of rich mahogany. The shelves were filled with countless books of different sizes and colors, each title telling a story waiting to be read.