Basketball Books Fiction Novels & Stories

It was Damian Knight’s voice when he said, “You belong to me.” Because a part of her believed him. And a darker part didn’t want to argue. She stood restlessly and wandered the room. Her fingers trailed along the bookshelves. Most were hardbound. Thick, glossy, untouched. Titles like Power & Play, Behavioral Strategy, and Psychology of Loyalty. One book was crooked. She tilted her head. It was the only one not aligned with the rest. She reached out. Pulled it. Nothing happened. No secret door. No dramatic reveal.

It seems a good place to be. He steps behind me and kisses the side of my temple. "Nope. This is just the beginning. True love stories never end." END OF VOLUME FIVE: HACK This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author recognizes the trademarks and copyrights of all registered products and works mentioned within this work.

I perched on the lowest row of the bleachers, feeling the chill of the metal seep through my jeans, despite the gym being warm with all the energy from the players on the court. A hefty fantasy novel lay open on my lap, its pages filled with tales of dragons and destined queens...that may or may not be a Yuri romance between the queens, but I hadn’t flipped a single page in the last twenty minutes. My gaze wandered over the words but didn’t register them as I focused instead on the squeak of sneakers and the thud of the basketball, just waiting for practice to wrap up. Waiting for Frank.

I turned myself around and buried my head into James’s chest as I pleaded in a whisper. “Don’t you love basketball the most?” He pretended not to hear my pleas. Before I transmigrated into the book, I was stuck in a hospital bed daily. My only hobby was watching basketball games. I thought I could finally experience the joy of playing on the court after transmigrating into the book, only to end up with this cursed milk production physique. It would be absurd to watch a player make three-pointers while spraying milk on the court! Of the three male leads, James was a skilled basketball player. As such, I often watched him play the games.

In his words; “Football is life.” He burst into the room. “Roomie!” he announced, dropping his duffel bag on his bed. “You look like you’re about to solve world hunger with that book.” I didn’t look up. “It’s economics.” “Exactly,” he said, flopping backward onto his mattress. “World hunger.”

There were ladders, too, nestled against the shelves—long wooden ones that reached for the heavens. They seemed to beckon me, whispering promises of untold stories, hidden just out of reach. But the real magic was in the rows of fiction books, the ones I knew best. The ones that offered escape, that invited me into lives and realms I could never touch in the real world.

I know Jamaal, his threats are always carried out to the extreme. I wasn't comfortable staying in his room, it smelt of him and reminds me every of my encounter with him. I stood up and walked around his room, the neatness of his room still surprises me. A rack full of footballs was at the corner of the room and a little shelf was besides his study table. I walked towards the shelf, I was expecting to see the textbooks we use in school on the shelf, but I saw novels instead. Books by John Grisham, Sidney Sheldon, Colleen Hoover, James Patterson and Ted Dekker.

4. Gavin has finished his pancakes and is now sipping from his coffee, watching me with a neutral expression. I again push the book away from me, as if prolonged contact with it could hurt me, somehow. Which is ridiculous. It’s just a journal full of stories, that’s all. So what if Gavin’s story about the Pital girl was eerily accurate? Gavin wrote fiction for a living, he made stuff up. That’s what writers do, right? Make stuff up.

ancient, the pages brownish. "Go ahead, I'll just sit here doing nothing," Axel said, and I almost felt bad for him; he seemed already bored, and I hadn't even started. My hands trailed down the line of ancient history books, and then there was a book that caught my attention; it seemed more recent than the other books. I picked it out of the shelf; there was another book behind it; I took that out too. The book had been titled 'Barbara's Fantasies'.

Luckily all the books were there in the library but it took me almost half an hour to find all the books. Once I issued them, I walked back to the basketball court and placed them on the sidestep. A serious match was happening on the court and the guys were so much immersed in the game that nobody probably saw me coming with the books. Also, I quickly left for the parking. I needed to go buy breakfast and then my task was over.