Blowie Book Pages Novels & Stories

Most of them have only one picture on the page and are a quarter of the size of a regular book. "Shit." I say quietly. "I can't believe it still costs ten bucks for a book that only has six pages. I can get a two hundred page paperback at the grocery store for the same price." Tiffany smirks. "But does your two hundred page paperback have fur like this touchy-feely book with a tiger on the front?" "It has fur?" I grab it out of her hands and begin going through it, touching all the different pictures as I turn the pages.

I returned a favoring smile to her by doing it genuinely before I took the book on her soft palm, an almost thick book with a blue cover. The book is heavy. On the front cover, there is a closed eye with long black thick lashes in a form of feathers placed inside a pentagon. Outside the badge has a wonderful abstract ocean and sunrise. Below it, golden embossed letters are shining to make its cover spectacular: BOOK OF A ZONER "Begin reading from page two to page five," Psyche said to me, stopping me in amazement. So I did what she wanted me to do. I flipped the pages until I reached the second page of the book. I started reading what's on it.

Someone ripped it. April Rose felt like there were a lot of important information about Cassandra Spellflower that was taken out of the book. She felt a surge of eagerness to know more about Cassandra. She flipped the pages of the book hoping to find the ripped pages, but she couldn’t find them. She grabbed a different book, flipped the pages over and over again only to find nothing but dust falling. She grabbed two more books and flipped them in hopes of finding the missing pages. Instead of finding the ripped pages, she noticed something fell from one of the books she just flipped. It was an old photo. She went down on her knees and picked up the photo, and when she flashed the light on it

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The ache in my heart turns to butterflies in my belly. There’s a rickety stool outside the den with a book sitting on it, a paperback that’s gotten soaked and dried at least once, opened like a fan. A bookmark made of braided grass is tucked between the pages. He reads? What is he reading? My wolf can’t read. All she can do to satisfy my curiosity is sniff the pages. They smell like they’ve been dew-dampened and baked in the sunshine many, many times. She bumps it off the chair with her enthusiasm, and Justus rescues it from the ground.

Set it on the table and opened to the section where pages had been torn out. Four pages. Gone. Removed with surgical precision. I ran my fingers along the ragged edges still clinging to the binding. The paper was not yellowed like the rest of the book. Not aged. The tears were clean. Recent. Very recent. I pulled the lamp closer. Examined the binding. There. At the base of the torn section. A fragment. So small I had missed it the first time. A corner of a page that had not completely pulled free. I used my fingernail to carefully extract it. The fragment was maybe an inch square. Most of it blank. But in the corner. A few words visible in that same ancient script.

I interrupted. Her cheeks went red, and her eyes brightened. With a groan, I shook my head. My wolf was growling at me even before I said, “It’s not worth crying over.” The book blew up. Every page lit on fire as it burst outward, flying in every direction. A chunk of the flaming spine hit me square in my chest. I batted it away, yelping in shock. There was a slight burn where it’d hit me, but nothing bad. I stomped out the flames and made my way to the other bits of burning paper, putting out the fires.

Two torn edges protruded from its binding where the missing pages should have been. Chrissy examined them more closely. “These weren’t lost.” “I know.” “No, look.” She angled the book toward me. The paper had been cut almost perfectly along the binding, leaving only a few narrow fibers behind. “Someone used a blade,” she said. “They wanted those pages specifically.” I glanced toward the circulation desk. “Would the library know who had it?” “For a newer book, yes. For something this old, we might be looking for a stone tablet and a chisel.”

“There are some things written there that will help you understand your new self.” “That huge book? Reading it sounds stressful already.” “The book just looks big,” the man smirked and he got up as well, “but the contents only fill the first few pages. The remaining pages are blank.” Zara frowned. At that point, to her, everything about that realm was confusing and unnecessarily extra. As she scoffed, she asked, “Why would anyone make such a page? The writer could have just packaged the first few pages and saved paper.”

I place the crackers on the table just inside the door as I make my way over to the desk. A large book is open on top of the papers. I turn the book around so I can see what is written on the pages. At the top of the page there is a picture of a large Silver Wolf. Tracing my fingers delicately over the image of the wolf, my heart begins to race. River pushes forward to look at the pages with me. The words on the page are handwritten and some of the writing is beginning to fade.