Blowie Book Pages Novels & Stories

I brеathеd, еyеs fluttеring shut. That did it. I thrеw thе blankеts off and rеachеd into thе drawеr undеr my bеd. My toy was thеrе, tuckеd bеtwееn a fеw old books I prеtеndеd to rеad. It was pink. I pullеd my pantiеs off and sat back, sprеading my lеgs slowly. “Just a quick onе,” I whispеrеd.

She opened her eyes and picked up the blade, holding her thumb above the open pages, she cut it, and red blood trickled down her finger. It slowly pooled into a drop and fell down his thumb, splattering on the pages of the book. The blood was slowly absorbed by the pages of the book and then it disappeared. I waited for something to happen but nothing did. And just when I was about to open my mouth, I saw the book move. The dark book of magic began trembling slowly and then it was rattling, the edges of the hardbound flapping on the pillar. Insitinctlye I took a step back as Gwen threw her hands on either side of her and threw her head back.

Familiar? The small gust swirled around them, making their hair dance and loose blades of grass sway in the air. The book trembled in the center of them as the cover jerked, threatening to open. With another wave of air, the cover flipped open to a blanket page. How strange. No text? How can they..? Everything went white.

Feeling like minutes passed between each and that the space around me was resisting the inflation of my lungs. Currents wafted over to Rampage and suffused him in an orange glow which made the pages sputter as they went faster. And made the room seem to brighten then dim as if lightning flashed in here or clouds were moving rapidly over the moon. Black, then silver, then black again. Suddenly Rampage lifted a few inches off the floor and a particular orange tentacle whipped out from him to spike into the page. Slamming the book roughly against the floor. Making the hard leather slap.

“Plus, this book is probably priceless.” Breyona winced as the book hit the oak coffee table with a thud. The cover was thick and practically hanging on by a thread. It was clear her parents had done everything in their power to preserve this book. While it didn’t have the dusty smell most of their other books had, this one looked decades older. The pages were thick and stained, the writing on them faded and patchy. I could feel the makings of a headache begin as my eyes roamed the pages, struggling to make out the carefully written words. A few moments of silence passed, three sets of eyes scanning the weathered pages.

“For you.” I could hardly believe it. Flipping through the composition book, I could make out pages upon pages filled with neat handwriting, what looked like ten chapters worth of reading, and even… a couple of smutty scenes. My cheeks warmed as I flipped to a random page and read something about the dragon turning into a man, and…

The wind danced and twirled, a mischievous sprite teasing the edges of my curiosity. As the pages fluttered and threatened to escape my grasp, I desperately clung to them, fearing the loss of the precious knowledge they held. But the wind was relentless, merciless in its determination to snatch the words from my fingertips. With a final defiant flourish, the pages slipped free, descending towards the ground like confetti at a forgotten celebration.

I told her this and she promised she’d let me- The ink fades to white, and there’s nothing more. I flip desperately through the remaining pages, but the rest of the book is completely blank. Once I’m satisfied that I’ve searched every nook and cranny of the book, I lay it on the floor and reach inside the box for the other book. This one is larger – a photo album, with a plain white cover, stained brown with age.

In addition, she had filled the basket with plenty of tasty drinks that tasted like fruit juice. It was everything one could possibly want if they were going to lie on a blanket in the beautiful summer sun and read a book about elven history. I lay down on my stomach, placing the book in front of me. It was large and heavy. Just for fun, I flipped to the back—there were no fewer than four hundred and forty-nine pages in the book. And that was only volume one! I wondered how many volumes there were in total. I opened the big book and could smell the traces of time in it. All I hoped for was that it wouldn’t be too dry to read.

The magic book opened on its own, Rico and Niffa patiently wait for whatever the blank page will going to write, they were seated, together, at the long wooden table surrounded by the wall of books. A light was formed, and the empty page was filled with letterings in a freestyle script carved within the thin sheet of paper. They narrowed their eyes trying to read the first letter, it was too bright, and the lettering was almost as white as the paper. The light vanished and the letters turned into tinted black, thick and printed, not written by a hand. The whole page was filled, it says,