Book Cover Titles Novels & Stories

Kai walked off toward Ms Leta who was still busy reading her book, probably to speak to her about something. Clarissa didn’t follow him as she was drawn to the shelves already. She walked through the rows as her fingers brushed along the books gently. Most of the books had thick covers. “Pattern Drafting Vol 1,”Clarissa read the book titles in a low tone as her eyes wandered to find the one she wanted. “History of Fabric Dyeing, Creative Sketching 101.” She moved down the aisles, her eyes still scanning the books. Some were old while others looked rather new.

I am excited that The Lost Luna is almost ready to be published in paperback form through A____n. There will be a completely new cover for the book, and each subsequent book will have it's own cover, although they will be similar and obviously a set. I have been working on a title for the series since it was originally supposed to be a one-off novel, but I am not good at sticking to plan. The series will be called Hidden Legacy.

I noticed all the different categories and different sections the books were placed in. With ease, Agatha found each book and I held out my arms as she gathered the books into them. Some of the titles were written in languages I couldn’t read, and some were just… absurd. ‘Werebear physiology’, ‘Werebear magic rituals’, ‘Werebear sexua’-nope not reading it. Just shuffle forward behind the nice kind lady. She stacked a few books labeled ‘Werebear history’ and ‘Werebear proper stamina management’, into my arms, before leading me somewhere else.

Wrong. The first few titles I sift through are the kind I expected to find in a place like this: image-heavy coffee table books about the estate. They have titles like Huntington Manor: A Photographic Tour, or The Architecture of Huntington Manor. Or even Settlers of Barberville: A History of the Region. But buried beneath all of those, I find a book that makes my insides twist. It's called The Cunninghams: The Unauthorized Story. I stare down at the gold embossed letters on the cover. This is a joke, right? This can't be real.

"ASHES TO EMPIRE: Breaking Free from a Legacy of Violence" By Jaxon and Isla Winters. We each took a copy. Held it. Felt the weight of it. "We wrote a book," I whispered. "We really did." The cover was beautiful. Simple. Powerful. Dark background. Our title in bold letters. A phoenix rising from ashes. Perfect. We sat on the couch and read it. Cover to cover. Every word we'd written. Every truth we'd exposed. Every moment of pain and healing. It was surreal seeing it in print.

I grabbed a few and tucked them under my arm, climbing with my free hand. When I reached the highest shelf, I pulled out a thick book with a green cloth cover. The title was embossed in gold: “Medicinal Flora and Fauna of the Northern Territories”. Perfect. “This one looks good,” I called down to Nora. She grinned up at me. “Can you get that blue one too? Next to it?” Nodding, I reached for the blue book she indicated, stretching up on my tiptoes. My fingers brushed the spine but it was a little far. I had to lean to the side to reach it, my tongue poking out in concentration.

I noticed the books the moment I entered the library. They occupied an entire shelf that had been empty days ago, their spines too new, too clean, too deliberately chosen to belong to the house’s original collection. Pale colors. Muted pastels. Whites softened with greys and blush tones meant to reassure rather than inform. Pregnancy. Birth. Motherhood. Infant development. Natural routines. Emotional bonding. Titles rounded at the edges, language designed to soothe instead of warn, to promise continuity instead of rupture.

Naomi also wanted to have her hands on one of those forbidden books but she dared not to. 'Why is Lisa displaying those forbidden books in these shelves?' Naomi couldn't help but ask herself out of curiousity. Despite being curious, she didn't dare to ask Lisa about it. After all, she was in no position to ask and it isn't her business in the first place. She was continously browsing for books but when she reached the end of the shelf, something caught her attention. It was a tainted gold covered book in the corner of the shelf. She went to grab it and was satisfied with the book. The book title was "Art of Medicine".

He was dressed in a blue robe, and he was sitting in a chair, reading a book. "I love to read," I said. "Then, allow me to show you something special," the man said. He stood up and walked over to the shelves. He pulled a book off the shelf and handed it to me. The cover was a deep red, and it had gold lettering. It was titled "The Book of Dreams." "This book contains every story ever told," the man said. "Every fairy tale, every myth, every legend. It's all here, waiting for you to read it."

Those were hilarious. Were those? I quizzed. What the hell was the publisher thinking while coming up with the titles? Dorky and the hoes is still tolerable but once in my cunt? Seriously? That’s the best you can come up with? What’s the book about anyways? Vulva? Sad life changers? Wolves certainly are a rather horny civilization to put such literature on best-sellers. The excited-bee besides me isn’t done gushing over the supposedly brilliant works of the lecherously lewd author who isn’t me. I am pleased I am not. The titles want me to puke my gut out. Putatively, there are more to come.