Anita Archer Books Novels & Stories

“Linda? Yeah, she’s definitely more my type.” I smiled, feeling a spark of an idea. “In that case, give me your number. Maybe I can be your matchmaker.” Ansel’s surprise melted into a smile as he handed me his number. “Alright, matchmaker. Good luck.” As I walked back to our table, I spotted a poster on the wall. It advertised an upcoming archery competition. Memories of my past flooded back – before Adrian, archery had been my escape, something I was good at. I wondered if I could join, if I still had the skills. Shaking my head, I pushed the thought aside and returned to my seat.

Book 3 in the series is being written so be on the look out August 1st Thanks again, Annie

After grabbing the book, I caught sight of another that I'd been wanting to read for sometime now. It was titled "Shall We Tell The President?" by Jeffrey Archer. I'd tried to get a hold of the book so many times but never managed to. Excited, I tried to reach for where I was since it was a few rows away. Short as I was, it was bit of a struggle. Just when I finally managed to grab it, I lost my hold on the ladder and fell off. It all happened so fast. It was like one moment I was falling and the next I was safe in his arms. Derris' arms.

… Nian was really happy even though their relationship started a bit strange and before they weren't on the best terms, Archer was now his partner and although he hadn't accepted he had a boyfriend, he hadn't denied it either. When he heard the voices disappear completely he walked between the shelves until he found one far enough away from he was with Archer. From that shelve, he pick up a couple of books that he found interesting and went straight to the receptionist to borrow the books. He took four books in total and was about to go to his home when he passed in front of a store and saw a pair of notebooks for couples, they had a special lock that could only be opened with the key of the

“I mean… like Janus can see the dead, can he see invisible words or something?” Archer laughed. “You know he is making that stuff up. Haha, he can’t see dead, of course not.” I squinted my eyes. “Yeah, you don’t believe him. These books are basically notebooks, right? Is it like some gothic or vintage journal?” “No princess, they are just an ancestral treasure of the Lakin family.” “Can I get one of them? You have so many…” I said, examining the books. They were actually really pretty. I could give one to Vera. She’d love such unique notebooks.

Hours later, I was still there, pouring over my latest interest, open books everywhere on the floor around me. Funny enough, I’d never really been a fan of reading, but concentrating very hard on the words of the pages kept me from thinking of, or worse, going to look for Ivan. It was enough to keep me dedicated till now. Footsteps pried my attention from the book about animals and I looked up to see Archer walk in. Ignoring him, I returned my attention back to my book.

He turned around and didn’t see her anywhere. Slowly, he got up from the bed and made his way to the bathroom, that was when he caught the sight of a glowing purple book at the side of the vanity desk. Frowning, Archer walked to it and turned its pages. It was witchery, something about the merger. ‘What would Clarissa be doing with this? She wasn’t a witch,’ he thought in shock. At that moment, the door handle creaked inwards, and Archer stared at it in shock.

It had an old covering but it looked like a romance one. “Common, feel free. No one can penalize you here.” “They can’t even see us.” I narrowed my eyes, on how she knew this, with my hands running through the shelf too. My lips spread out in a wide smile as I brought out a book, sniffling it. That understanding mother I never had. Who thought I was a freak for reading books, or chasing knowledge as a female. She was Lady Archer.

The Architecture of the Menace Across from him, Stacy Sorgentone had her laptop open. The machine was different now. The sleek, brushed-aluminum laptop she had used at the University of Miami library had been left in a dumpster behind a grocery store on US-1. This was an old Panasonic Toughbook, a military-surplus relic with a monochrome screen and a thick rubber chassis, completely stripped of its wireless cards. A grey serial cable snaked out from its side, drilled directly into an old telephone junction block that Elena had cracked open with a crowbar in the pantry.

Then I stumble upon what can only be Archer's study. I smile as I enter and lock the door behind me. The study is well-furnished with three leather chairs divided by a table, with one on one side and the other two on the other side. I notice a plush couch too. There are books on the shelves; Archer must love reading a lot. I flip through, noting that most of the books are on finance, business, and leadership.