Book Club Fiction Novels & Stories

Susan blushed, and Alexei tilted his head, curious. “Weird books? Now I’m interested.” “They’re just fiction. Suspense, mystery… Sometimes romance.” She shrugged modestly. “Romance?” He raised an eyebrow. “The sugary kind or the ones that keep you up all night reading?” She bit her lip, thoughtful. “The ones that make you think. I like imperfect characters. Relationships that are built over time. Real feelings, you know?” Alexei’s smile remained, but his eyes grew more attentive. “You don’t believe much in instant passions?”

The impact was so strong I could feel my neck crack as it got jerked back. 7. Winning the state soccer championship with a club I met in Rio... The window started cracking from the pressure of the water outside of the car as we were sinking towards the bottom. 8. Attending a concert with Rachel... I took a deep breath as the water started to swarm me, my clothes were drenched. 9. Completing lab projects after school with Leander... I went to the little air pocket that was left, to take another breath 10. Realizing there was no escape from the situation and being okay with it.

“I can’t even imagine how many books are in here.” “Too many,” Leo replied with a faint chuckle. “Most of them are just for show. But there are a few I actually read.” “Let me guess,” Chloe teased. “Crime novels? Or maybe biographies of great leaders?” “Guilty,” he admitted in a warm voice. “And you?” “I always loved fiction,” she said, a wistful note creeping into her voice. “Fantasy, mostly. Stories about impossible worlds, where anything could happen.” “Maybe one day, you’ll pick one off the shelves here,” Leo said gently. “Who knows? You might find a new favourite.”

Sprinted to the door, I pulled it open, not expecting it to open, but it did, causing my heart to swell in joy. Ambling to the shelf, my eyes darted round the various book covers. Fiction was my favorite book to read because the best thing about reading was to be able to escape from your life, to be able to read hundreds or even thousands of other lives. Non-fiction does not have that power, it does not change you the way fiction does. To me, if you are not affected somehow, even if it is the slightest change, you are not reading the right book. I would love to think that every novel I have read has become a part of me and created who I am in a sense.

The usual genres one would expect to find at a book fair, too: history, fiction, non-fiction, folklore, fantasy, fairytales… everything. I had wondered and hoped that I could find the fiction book about the female alpha, but there was nothing of the sort to be found. I would rummage through the boxes each day, hoping to find something, but nothing. Nothing at all. Picking up a large pile of books from a box, I strolled towards a table that was getting empty to fill it up again.

The air inside is rich with the smell of aged books, coffee, and cookie scented candles. “Hi, what exactly is this place? Is it a bookshop or library of some sort?” I asked the receptionist and she flashed me a warm smile. “Welcome to the Fiction Nook, ma'am. We like to call this place our sanctuary for imagination because it is a gem for book lovers which contains well-loved novels and rare first editions. Please come with me. I will give you a tour of the place.” She informed me and walked slowly in front of me.

The book club ladies were in fine form this afternoon. Margaret Thompson sat primly on the floral couch in a rented out space close to the library, a half-empty teacup balanced on her knee, her Bible study notes open on the coffee table. The conversation had started with the latest Christian fiction novel — something about redemption and resisting temptation — but it had drifted, as it always did, into more personal territory. Gossip dressed up as prayer requests. “Speaking of temptation,” one of the women said, lowering her voice with dramatic concern, “have you heard what’s going around about that poor Thompson boy?”

“Psychological studies mostly.” His smile fades slightly. “Fiction?” “Oh. Right.” I clear my throat. “Yes. Fiction too.” “Favourite novel?” Why was this suddenly feeling like an oral exam? I panic and blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “Gone Girl.” The interviewer goes silent and just stares at me. Then he finally says. “Interesting choice for a library focused on family and community engagement.” Right. What I mentioned was an erotic murder thriller. Terrible choice for the family and community.

She doesn't even wait for me to get out before opening her door and standing tall, looking at the front of the club with curiosity. “You look disappointed.” She glances at me as if surprised I called her out for the emotion visible on her face and lifts a shoulder. “I expected more, I guess.” That seems like a reasonable enough response, and I know it in my head. Club Red may not look like much on the outside, but that is a dangerous stance to take because the club isn’t about what's going on at the facade, it's about what's happening within. “Always dangerous to judge a book by its cover.”

"Billy? Huh, oh yeah, I'm fine. Yes. Lunch today, right." "Good, can't wait." She smiled again and left him with his jaw hanging open and a deer in the headlights gaze. When she got back to her desk, she sent Nicki a text asking him if he wanted to meet her for dinner and they could maybe go over their book club reading together. They met on Thursdays every other week for their book club. Most of the time, she got through half the book before she gave up and read the last chapter. Nicki would fill her in on the way over to the meeting what parts she was missing.