Blue Book Aesthetic Novels & Stories

Her olive tan combined with white looked amazing. However, Michael didn’t take his eyes off the car for a moment, delighted with the body with a dark blue, metallic shade that perfectly matches the white leather upholstery and elements made of walnut wood. In this confrontation, it was not the work of art created by mother nature that won, but by genius constructors. He stood motionless and admired every little detail of the car that many real men had dreamed of owning. “Are you ready?” She asked, putting on her sunglasses. “Let’s go!”

Then he looks back at the lineup. “Then that’s a neon-accented McLaren. See how the doors are tilted up a little? Like wings getting ready to fly.” He points at a car with glowing green accents that make it look like it’s from the future. “And… a Bugatti. Midnight blue finish.” “She’s so glossy you can see your own reflection trembling on the surface.” He whispers that last part right into my ear, and his breath tickles, making me shiver. “So tell me, baby. Which one?” he asks again, his lips still close to my skin like he'd rather ruin me with kisses than make the choice himself.

he says. He guides me through the hallway and out the front door. His eyes meet mine as he quietly says to my ears, “I want to give you something.” He grips my shoulders and turns me around. There, in the driveway, is a sleek, brand-new car whose paint is a deep, metallic blue. It has gleaming chrome accents that shimmer in the sunlight and the windows are tinted just enough to keep out the sun’s glare. The wheels are large and speak of power, and the headlights flash with a warm welcome.

"This is the Sage Green one. The SAGE. GREEN. They only made TWELVE of these bad boys and ONE of them is here, and I'm ridin' in it? Oh, I need a moment." She ran her hand reverently along the car's sleek exterior, circling it like an art appraiser examining a rare painting. "Look at this finish! And the carbon fiber details! This is the Sage Green edition, isn't it?" The driver stared at her, his professional mask slipping to reveal utter confusion. He coughed discreetly. "Miss Moreau?"

Zren wanted to ignore her, however, that would be rude so she still answered, "Yes, I'm here to pick up my sons." "Really?" The woman put one palm over her neck and acted as if she was amazed. "Then is this car yours?" The woman asked in concern and even touched the car's hood. The galaxy blue sports car was extremely eye-catching not only thin e exterior design but also in its unique color, it was clear that it was a customized one. Zren let out a sigh impatiently. She struggled to force a smile and tried not to answer sarcastically, "Obviously it's mine."

I don't know why I expected something more vibrant; I don't know why I permitted myself to wonder about her private life and how she might live. Because she's changing you...! She joins me in the small archway that is her makeshift porch with beguiling eyes as she notes my car on the double yellows. "That yours?" She asks, her eyes roving over my Aston Martin AMR. It is a guilty pleasure, but just last year, deciding on black on black, because why not? I appraise my car, taking a moment to feel that weird sense of pride at owning such a magnificent beast of a vehicle.

Albert left immediately. Slowly, Beth turned. Not knowing how to begin, she allowed herself the freedom to appreciate the room and its interior design. Although the upholstery was made of brown leather, she realized why it was referred to as the Blue Salon. The walls were glazed with ocean blue as the background and yellow flowery patterns over it. The rug possessed a deeper colour of the walls and the draperies shared their colours. When she focused well enough, Beth thought the walls to share the same colour as Lord Carlisle's eyes. She quickly glanced away.

He was fragile, and she didn't want anyone to interfere with his healing process. Kathy's car was also parked outside the mansion, gleaming under the bright sun. It was a sleek, black sedan, the kind that exuded power and sophistication. The car had a polished finish that shone in the sunlight, making it look like a work of art. The body was smooth and aerodynamic, with sharp, angular lines that gave it a sense of speed and agility.

“Do all the pack members just keep their cars here? Or is there some specific use for them?” Lucian raised an eyebrow. “They’re mine.” Maybe looking so dumbfounded before him was doing very little for my hard girl act, but I was trying. “Hurry up.” He sounded irritated now. “You’ve wasted enough time getting ready as it is. We don’t exactly have all day.” “Alright, alright.” I huffed before turning my focus to the cars. Eventually, one of them caught my eye. The car was a study in elegance, its deep, obsidian finish gleaming like polished glass under the streetlights. Every line was deliberate, smooth, and refined—more sculpture than machine.

I’d need to build an entire board by hand and somehow have it fit into the body of this beauty without destroying it completely. Looking at it now, it was pretty destroyed. I’d finished the engine and made sure it would run first. But before even that, I’d stripped the entirety of the interior and sanded down the exterior past the pain. The body was in great shape with only a few cracks here and there that were easily fixed. I’d already picked out LeMans Blue color for the exterior since blue was Emmett’s favorite. “Look, tomorrow you’ll leave. It will be over with before you know it and then you’ll be back. You need to stop making such a big deal about it.”