Barnes And Noble Spicy Booktok Novels & Stories

My hands trembled slightly as I took them. The first page had a name on it - Romell Lunae. My breath caught when I saw it. “That’s my father,” I whispered. “I know,” I began reading. Each word felt heavy in my chest as I read. The book spoke of rituals, dark ones, forbidden ones. It spoke of Lunae magic, not just as power, but as something rare, something that could be stolen under the right conditions. My chest tightened painfully. “No…” I whispered. “There’s more,” Rhea said gently.

He smelled good even from here. Dante nodded, pouring another glass of whiskey and sliding it across the counter toward me. “Sit. You look like you could use this. And talk if you want. I’ve got steaks on the grill out back under the cover. Dinner’s almost ready.” He didn’t push, just leaned against the counter watching me with those dark eyes. No judgment, no awkward pity like everyone else in the family had given me since the split. I took the glass and sipped, the burn going down nice and warm into my belly. “Thanks. I didn’t know you’d be here. Last thing I wanted was to crash your alone time.”

A warm weight, possessive. "Sleep. Tomorrow, there is the library. And all the other walls to come." He closes his eyes. His breathing becomes slow, regular. I stay awake a long time, watching the light play on the dark lashes resting on his cheekbones. His hand remains on me, even in sleep. An anchor. A chain. I think of the silent books. The mahogany shelves. The smell of wax and leather. My refuge. My territory. Tomorrow, I take him there. Tomorrow, I offer him a new battlefield.

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asked Grace with a friendly smile. "I hope you like it, Aunt Grace. I think it's the perfect snack to accompany your afternoon. And the jar I prepared for Grandpa Edgar is perfect for a book. Isn't that right?" Celine grinned slightly. Letting one of the waiters pull out a chair for her and making sure she was comfortable sitting there.

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yes, I talk to myself on occasion. I turn the book in hand to find a small metal spike lashed to the back cover with fraying laces of claret suede. It must be silver, that would explain the slight burning sensation fading from my finger tips. Dark lines in the tarnished metal, look like they could have been engraved words at some point in the past. ‘I wonder what delights the other two hold?’ Caleb muses sarcastically. I eye the two remaining books, one remarkably slender, the other easily twice the breadth of either of its predecessors.

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Its spine was thicker than the others, bound in a dark leather that gleamed faintly in the dim light. When I pulled it from the shelf, a strange warmth radiated through my fingers, and the air around me seemed to hum as I brushed my hand over it softly. I opened the book, and the first words that caught my eye sent a shiver down my spine and I narrowed my eyes instantly: “The Chosen Bond.”