Book Club Discussion Questions Novels & Stories

Fang City Books hosted several types of book clubs. Tonight, her thoughts kept straying to her old lover, Dex. She wondered where he was, and what he was doing ,but she pushed away thoughts of him. That was another life. Julia, one of the younger members, was already in the backroom at the bookstore. It looked out on the alley where a few of the town's bars sat. Periodically someone would stumble past after a few too many drinks. "They really should clean up this town," Julia said. "Don't you like to go to bars?"

I was relieved to see there were no men here, at least if there was going to be a man he should be gay and we all agreed to that. We were six. Cindy Bellman, Aisha Mohammed, Drew Finch, Jessica Boston, Lexi Hale, and me. We were just six beautiful ladies who loved to talk about our favorite books and rant about how JK Rowling is a bitch for her transphobic tweets. Sometimes we'd just go out to have some fun. We weren't just a book club we were a sisterhood. Lexi's mystery thriller novel will be out next month and I'm so happy for her, there's no room for jealousy or spite because as women who moan over hot fictional characters like Christian Grey we can not bash each other all we have is lov

I’m trying to be patient, but it’s harder than I’d like to admit. Two months ago, I opened my bookstore, and it’s been incredible. Twice a week, we host book clubs, and I’ve made it a point to bring one of the guys with me to each session. It’s hilarious watching their faces as we dive into the discussions. The women seem to enjoy it too—something about discussing steamy romance scenes with a bit of eye candy in the room. The door finally creaks open, and I sit up straighter as they walk in.

DIXIE THUMBED THROUGH THE book, the group's conversation washing over her. Book club night usually energized her. It was a bi-monthly opportunity to be in a room full of women she counted as friends. They'd selected a paranormal book this time, and though Dixie had tried she just couldn't get into it. Hear head and heart were stuck in the real world and no amount of sexy werewolf shifter could fix that. Shonda leaned over and gestured at Dixie's plate. "Are you done with your dinner?"

Everyone agrees, and they spend the next hour debating which book to choose. The group decides to read "Neverwhere," a novel that takes place in a fantastical version of London. They're all eager to dive into the story, and Hazel feels a sense of pride in bringing them together like this. She loves her job and the community it has helped her build. When the book club meeting is over, the members linger in the library, reluctant to part ways. As they say their goodbyes, Margaret approaches Hazel and says, "Thank you for being such a wonderful librarian. You really make this place special." Hazel blushes and says, "It's my pleasure.

“You’re one of those conspiracy people.” “I am,” she said proudly. “Thank you for noticing.” I poured tea into mugs and added sugar, too much, as usual. Bailey watched, horrified. “Sweet tea,” she said, sounding like she’d discovered a crime. “You’re a sweet tea person.” “Yes,” I said, defensive on principle. Bailey leaned closer, eyes gleaming. “Okay. So here’s what we do. We start a book club.” I blinked. “What?” “A book club,” she repeated, like it was obvious. “For romance. Specifically romantic fantasy. Specifically.” she lowered her voice again, conspiratorial “ the ones with wolves.”

Walls made of politeness and distance and the careful avoidance of anything that might lead to hurt. Oliver didn’t try to tear the walls down. He just… sat beside them. Quietly. Patiently. Until one day, I found myself opening the door. After a book club meeting in early November. We’d been discussing a novel about a woman who leaves her husband and starts over in a small town. The conversation had been heated—Lena loved it, Jenna hated it, Carlos had cried three times—and by the end, I was exhausted. I lingered after everyone left, helping Martha stack chairs.

“At least there’s that.” The conversation started light—safe topics, easy banter. Jake told her about a customer at his bookstore who had once tried to argue that reading paperbacks was ‘outdated and inefficient.’ Sophie countered with a story about an industry executive who once suggested she “leak” a relationship just to stay relevant. It was easy. Natural, even. But Sophie felt them. The eyes. The subtle clicks from outside. The occasional flicker of a phone screen from another table, aimed just a little too directly at them.

He didn't have the jammer on. She nodded. She understood. "Well, I haven't had any luck on my end either. There are hundreds of neighborhoods just on this side of Atlantis. But you're right. Fate will be fate." They ate in silence for a little while. "Dinner is good," he said. "Thank you." "How was book club?" "It was great. We finished our book and will start a new one." "What was the last one about?" "Romance." Tom nodded. "You know," Brooke put her elbow on the table and planted her chin in it. She leaned a little forward, her bosom puckering a bit. "You might like some of the parts in that book."

Logan and I decided to meet later so we could come up with a plan. On our way back, the car passed by a bookshop and somehow, a memory that I shouldn’t even remember crossed my mind. She’d asked for a book. She’d said being alone in her room could be…a little lonely. Was she lonely now? Why did I care? “Logan, what kind of books do women read?” And why the fuck was I asking my Beta? The fucker slammed the breaks, sending us both forward that only the the seatbelts saved us from flying out the window.