Any Man Book Novels & Stories

"hisss.. I'm sorry. You're not cute!" "You! Stop right there!" the short man shouted and chased him in his small store. Wren suddenly stumbled on a heavy book and stumbled down. "Eh," he picked the book and opened it. it was a well written cook book along with pictures. Just looking at the pictures made his stomach growl loudly. "get up!" the short man hit his back with a book. "you have a lot of books sir. Do you have one with the history of Rene? I would like to buy that,"

The sealed book trembled once. Then became still again. The gray-coated man folded his hands behind his back. "You've spent your life searching for answers." "But answers change people." "Sometimes..." "...they erase them." The woman stepped forward. "If you know so much..." "Why not open it yourself?" A faint smile crossed the stranger's face. "I tried." "I couldn't." "The book refuses anyone..." "...except its rightful Author." Silence. Every gaze slowly turned toward Adrian. The silver lock on the black book reflected his face.

’ I was now married to not just any man, but a Made man, a dangerously handsome man, a soon-to-be Bratva. It felt all too wrong, but I had to live with it. There was nothing I could do about it. “Thank you.” I returned her smile with the same enthusiasm. “Lead her to my room.” Vincenzo ordered and my head whipped in his direction. A Made man never cracks a joke and Vincenzo wouldn’t be the first. To ease the tension warming up in the form of a pool in my stomach, I had counted his earlier words as a joke.

-I will fucking kill all of you someday. *** "That one," A well-dressed gentleman, in his mid fifty's pointed at the blue-eyed boy standing in the group. His buyer looked like a man one would meet in the rich district of London. Sauve and sophisticated. The man could even have a wife and children. However, his alter ego might have a lot of boys' skeletons in his closet.

Surprised look, "No, I'm not. A lot of people say that when I tell them I'm not into sports. I like sports, the strategy and stuff. But not all the drama about the teams." "So, what are you into?" He reaches into his bag and my world changes. A book. The man reads. And more. It's the third book in the current bestselling sword and fantasy series. He holds the book half our of the bag like it smells bad. "This right now." My pulse quickens. Suddenly, Travis, the dweeb became a much more promising project. "You read fantasy?" He's checking my face, waiting for the mocking. "Yes." I take the book from his hand.

I asked quietly, pushing my glasses further up my nose and trying to hide my embarrassment from getting caught reading erotica in the bookstore’s café. The man leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, flexing his biceps through his navy-blue sweater. “Yes, you can actually. I see you here every day”—he snatched the book from my hand—“and you’re always reading the same smutty book.” My cheeks blazed with embarrassment that I couldn’t hide. He leaned his forearms onto the table. “It’s Friday night. Why don’t you take a break from reading, and we can make our own story back at my place?”

Alex shuddered and said, "If you didn't die, why didn’t you come back?" "I wanted to take back everything I've lost." The man turned his head to look at Alex, his smile was a bit grim: "Who was that man?" "He's my new boyfriend, and I'm warning you, don't touch him." Alex said. The man smiled and said, "Think again, either come back to my side or die with that man." "You're not worried that I'll kill you again?" "Do you think that a person who has died before still has fears?"

"Hey, what book is this?" The man who was focusing with the microscope lens finally lifted his face, "Isn't there a title there?" "Yeah I know, but about what? I've never heard of Aima before. Is this a book about sexuality? A porn book?" asked Gail happily. This man rolled his eyes, "Seriously, if you are looking for a book like that you can find it at Night Flowers," he said. "Then?" The old man straightened his stiff body then pushed his wheelchair and turned to face Gail. "This is a book about a lost history," he said.

I jumped out suddenly as I found the man's book-like journal and her voice at the same time. "Alright, dug in all of his communication platforms and history" "Copy that" I unfurl the book wide yet floundering to perform clasping the phone and the other on the pages. The book it was like his diary where he sets his satisfaction and further fantasy beyond more a dream but gruesome desires. It was unsettling while reading his strategies and reasons starting from beginning to end. "He has contact with Lydia Manskim in Callme" She responded at last and then I closed the book.

I waited, just for fun, then let the silence draw out. Jack squirmed, like he thought I was about to say no. I was about to say yes when my eyes caught on a movement at the corner table by the emergency exit. A man sat there, alone, reading a book with a matte black cover. He was tall even while seated, with sharp cheekbones and hands too elegant for anyone under forty. His hair was dark and perfect. His jacket—expensive, probably custom-tailored—was so out of place in The Morgue it felt like he’d been CGI’d into the scene.