Book Corner Tampa Bay Novels & Stories

I pushed his shoulder playfully. ‘Oh please, you slept there once I think’. Finishing up our meal we carefully packed up the leftover food into the bag. Sasha took my hand in his and we made our way down the busy street. I looked all around me as we walked trying to figure out where he was bringing me when he stopped in front of an old bookshop. Pointing up to a beige sign above a green storefront that read ‘Shakespeare and Company’. I excitedly asked Sasha to take my photo in front of the store so that I could immediately upload it to my facebook page. I browsed the thousands of books upon the shelves losing track of time and of Sasha. I browsed the same aisles several times seeing new book

Everything is going as it is planned, except for the fact that I did not had any chance to see the inner area of the school today. But that's okay, I'll see it tomorrow morning. I followed what the guard told me, and there it is: Thelma's Book Corner. I found you, finally. It looked exactly like a barn, painted with red and brown. There's also a hotdog stand in front of it. I entered the store, and I must say that the inside is much bigger than the outside. Was that even possible? Looking around, I saw that there's a lot of bookshelves around here, plus a bean bag area for the people who prefer to read their books here.

So many stories he’d never read and knowledge he’d never acquired. His hand fell to his side as he stepped away from the bookshelf and scanned the room. The headlight beam slid over a leather couch, globe table lamp, stacks of more books, and a decanter on the edge of a desk. Behind it, a dark fireplace. “Well shit for me timbers, there you are you brown goddess.” “Call it my tip for the year, WY.” B took another long gulp of whiskey.

she teased, stepping out of the car. “I’m observant when it comes to you.” Michelle’s brain stalled for a solid three seconds before she forced herself to focus. This was dangerous. This kind of sweet-talking, this attentiveness—it could make a girl start believing things. Raymond led her inside, and to her surprise, the bookstore wasn’t just any bookstore—it was a cozy, quiet one with a built-in café. A peaceful haven tucked away from the world. A place where she could forget the madness of the last few weeks.

Twelve days was a blip, a footnote, a fever dream brought on by proximity and adrenaline and really, really exceptional sex. Except I couldn’t stop dreaming about him. Couldn’t stop reaching for the other side of the bed in the dark. Couldn’t stop hearing his voice say my name like it was the only word he’d ever learned. The email came on a Thursday. No subject line. No signature. Just an address in Detroit and a single sentence: The Baldwin is better the second time around. I was on a flight by Friday morning. The address was a bookshop. Small, warm, tucked between a laundromat and a bakery on a quiet street. The sign above the door read Second Round Books and I laughed—actually laughed—sta

Finn kept his arm around me for the whole ride. "So where to? Bookstore or library?" he asked. After thinking for a moment I responded, "Bookstore" and he nodded. We arrived at the bookstore a little after noon and the place was fairly empty. It was a sweet, little shop with all sorts of charming alcoves to snuggle in and read. I loved it. It seemed made for rainy Sundays like this one. Best of all, it had a small coffee shop in the back. Finn and I got hot chocolates and wandered around the stacks of books for an hour. We both picked out a few books and bought them. We shared the umbrella as we walked back out to the truck and got in.

********Tessa******** I stared at my phone for the 100th time as the caller kept calling over and over again. My eyes caught the familiar pair of brown wheels that I had seen the first time that I found this coffee book reading shop. All my life and living with my step dad this has been one of my favorite spot considering the fact that I loved reading whenever I felt bored at home and broken I always come here and what hurts most is the fact that Nicolas was the person who brought me here before I turned 13 because he saw how much I loved reading.

A dilemma most readers faced. I ended up in Oscar Wilde's section. A smile formed on my face when I read the name 'The Happy Prince and Other Tales' on the spine of a book. I plucked it out of the shelf and headed towards the seating area. I took a seat on a reading chair by the window and pulled my legs up to make myself comfortable. I flipped the book open and got sucked into an old memory. *** August 2017, Scars Bay, USA The air whipped against my face as I zeroed in on the finish line. It was all I could see.

If this was a trap, better one of us fall than both. He'd argued. Of course he'd argued. But in the end, he understood. Some doors only open for one person. The bookstore was called "Between the Pages." A narrow storefront on a quiet street, windows fogged with salt air, a hand-painted sign creaking in the wind. I stood across the street for ten minutes, watching. Trying to see if this was real or another layer of the game. Then I crossed and pushed open the door. --- The bell above the door chimed softly.

A minute passed before her phone buzzed again: “Maybe I’ll pick a book for us to read together. But I get to choose… something that’ll make your nerdy little heart skip a beat.” Tiffany rolled her eyes but found herself smiling again. She couldn’t believe she was even entertaining this conversation. This was Jacob—troublemaker, a notorious flirt, and probably the last person she’d ever considered talking to about books. Yet here they were, bantering like they’d done it a hundred times. “Fine,” she typed. “But if your book choice is trash, I’ll revoke your prom date privileges.” Jacob laughed, running a hand through his hair. “You can’t. I still have your diary held hostage.”