Big Little Book Novels & Stories

He released my neck before lifting my two hands above my head and capturing them in one hand, rendering me completely helpless before tugging my jaw upwards with his free hand. "Oh Snow, you don't know what you do to me." I shivered at those whispered words just as he finally covered my lips with his, trapping my husky moans in. Excerpt from; His Little Snow [18+] ©Josephine. C. Ivy

"Traffic near the campus was brutal because of the graduation rehearsals. Besides, I brought gifts." "Gifts? Maverick, I'm trying to empty the apartment, not add more things to it," I said, though I couldn't stop the smile from spreading across my face. "Relax, it's not heavy," he said, reaching into the pocket of his hoodie which he had dropped onto a chair. He pulled out a small, rectangular object wrapped in simple brown paper and handed it to me. I took it from him, tearing the paper open carefully. It was a book. Specifically, a highly technical manual on advanced software architecture and data structures. There were neat, small sticky notes poking out from almost every single chapter.

he said. Inside were pages full of pencil sketches and short, clumsy sentences—none of them professionally done, all of them exactly him. There was a crooked family on the first page with two parents and a rescue dog named Bix. The second page had a sketch that looked suspiciously like our penthouse couch, with the caption: Where Tuesdays live. The book was a hand-made children’s story: The Little House That Held Tuesdays. Each page held a tiny adventure—the first puddle jump, the first burned pancake, the time a kite escaped and came back with a ribbon.

There the first page was a blank page and the second page depicts the title of the book, it was about a story "The little Princess," he whispered through the room because he knew that no one can hear him inside or outside but still he needs to be careful. So he shut his mouth again while focusing his view on the book more like it was making his spine have shivers as well as goosebumps all over his skin 'So it was based on a true story after all, what is the meaning of this and why did it have to be one of his treasures? The author was not even mentioned at all'

It was a hard-core p**n magazine. "Oooohh", she cooed, "I like this". She said as she grabbed the book from me and started to flip the pages. A few momemts of us sitting next to another, looking at pictures of people sucking and fucking, men fucking women, women fingering women, I could tell I was hard as hell and kept refraining from touching her ass with my hand. As she looked at each page, she moved herself back and onto my awaiting hand so I could feel her ass on my fingers. .

The way I feel small every single day. She listens. Really listens. When I’m done, tears streaking my cheeks, she pulls me into a hug that smells like lavender and old books. “You are not small,” she whispers. “You are full of fire you haven’t learned to use yet.” She lets me go, walks to a shelf I’ve never noticed before, hidden behind a curtain of ivy and pulls out a small, black leather book. No title. No author. Just worn leather and a brass clasp.

Girls’ Night In The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft, rosy glow across the sky as Emily, Isabella, and Amy gathered in the living room of the mansion for a much-needed girls' night. The idea had come from Isabella, who wanted to get to know Emily better and help her unwind after everything she had been through. Amy, always up for some quality time with her best friend, was more than eager to join in.

After I turn five years of age and have my very own phone, I start receiving strange messages every single day. For some reason, the sender keeps referring to me as their mom. At 3:00 am, they send me another message. "Mom, I saw you in my dreams again. The rain is seeping into the attic. My stepmom told me to use a rag to soak up all the water, but the rag is too small. Even though I tried to wipe it up all night, it still wouldn't dry. Mom, I'm so cold and hungry. I miss you so much…" I tilt my head, looking at the rain pouring outside the window. I then earnestly reply, "Don't be scared, sweetheart. Where are you right now? I will bring you something yummy!"

“That reminds me. I also want to get some books at the library” “Are you indirectly asking us to go together” I teased. He didn’t reply me, rather he continued eating. I scoffed. “Still a jerk” **************** TWO HOURS LATER... At the library.... “You are going to read that?” I asked with my eyes widened at the book Hayden selected from the shelf. “And what’s wrong with the book?” He asked. “Business plans blah blah...Argh!, I would probably doze off at the second page and that has like 400 pages?!”

Seeing this, he set it down without a second glance. A heavy silence settled in the car. Winnie suddenly turned from her seat in front, flashing me a courteous smile. "You must be Anna Jovine, huh? Tristan talks about you all the time. I should thank you for looking after him these past few years." Her voice carried a thin layer of arrogance, the way a hostess might thank a maid for her service. Before I could even catch my breath from the sting of it, Winnie laid a hand on her stomach and said, "Tristan, my period just started. My cramps are killing me."