Novel & Cerita Book Fiction

The flowers and the greenery looked so inviting; I was beginning to forget the scent of nature and the feeling of the breeze on my skin and in my hair. I turned to the long shelf to find something to read to help pass the time. But most of the books were biological journals and some other non-fiction. And I wanted to read fiction; maybe some lying on pages and dreamy characters could help with the boredom. I roamed through the shelves carefully looking for something. Just when I thought the search was going to be harder, I found a few and decided to read the one with the prettiest covers. The book was so interesting; I didn’t know fiction was so good. I never really gave them a chance becaus

And I treat many people to coffee and tea for free - no need to worry about this. The coffee machine rattled noisily, grinding beans. —Where is your section with horror literature? Thrillers? “Everywhere,” Yuna looked around at all the shelves in her field of vision. — We have a shop with a narrow specialization, there is practically no popular literature, especially sentimental prose, women’s fantasy and ironic detective stories. But there is a variety of alternatives, horror, mysticism, thrillers, dystopias. In general, we buy everything that other stores take for testing sales. With second-hand books, things are similar.

He wasn't there and the desk was empty, yet something in me lurched at the sight. ‘What was wrong with me?' I swallowed, looking away to center my thoughts. The books. Right. Plopping onto the soft surface, I looked properly at the books I acquired, ready to clear my mind. I let myself get drowned in the mass of words that came meaninglessly. The first book I read was some kind of fantasy romance adventure. One which entailed a woman who had to run away from her home and found herself another family in the form of two siblings and another pack. It was strange to say the least, but it kept my mind momentarily distracted.

Hyun asked. "Well, for this book, I have to say that it's really business driven. They wanted me to come up with another book very quickly. I figured that the best way to do that was to get inspirations from different people's experiences and work on whatever I got from them. A little twist on this, some exaggeration on that. That's how I did the story. But of course, every adjustment had to make sense and that's were the harder part came," Cela explained. "So you mean, this novel is purely fictional?" he asked.

he smiled before taking my hand with him and leading me to the second floor. The silence on the second floor matched the silence that we had when we were in the room. “I think the fictional books are here, it’s arranged according to genres as well so you won’t be having a hard time looking for a good one” Brye muttered softly while we strode along the shelves bigger than me and taller than Brye. I followed what he said and entered the silent aisles and my pointer finger ran along the shelves while squinting my eyes to find a good book.

No need to fill the space. That was the thing. I wasn’t fighting the silence. As the day went on, we drifted through the town like people with nowhere to be. Street food turned into coffee, coffee into wandering through a small bookstore where the shelves bowed under the weight of too many stories. Aiden picked up a dog-eared paperback and read the back aloud, doing different voices until I laughed loud enough to earn a look from the cashier. “Careful,” I said. “You’re endangering your serious reputation.”

He pointed out a tiny bookstore tucked between two cafés, said he used to come there for quiet when his life got too loud. “Let’s stop,” I said, tugging gently at his sleeve. He looked surprised, but followed. The bookstore smelled like paper and nostalgia. There were handwritten recommendation cards tucked into shelves, and a sleepy cat lounging by the register. Dean and I split up for a few minutes him disappearing into the nonfiction section, me wandering through poetry and travel books. When we found each other again, he was holding a book about dogs. “You think Vegas would approve?” he asked. “He’d probably want the deluxe treat cookbook instead.”

he replied, rounding to the driver’s side, “You still got in the car.” We drove to a small bookstore café he’d mentioned before, the kind of place tucked away on a quiet street, with glowing windows and shelves stacked so high you needed ladders to reach the top. The smell hit me as soon as we stepped inside, old paper, coffee, and something warm, like cinnamon. Hayden shook off the cold and looked around. “Alright, Coleen. You’re in your element now. Show me the magic of… uh…” He squinted at a display. “Whatever this is. Fantasy? Romance? Giant doorstops with dragons on the cover?”

“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.”

He takes it and scans the lines quickly. “Where did you get this?” I ask. “My parents collected books from all over the world. I have no idea where this one came from.” His face stays mostly blank as he reads. He clearly doesn’t care much for old books. “These are just boring words.” “This is history about Zephyra’s kind. They’re called Crimson Born in this book, and if you look here, they have a queen usually sent down by the goddess.” “This is just fiction.” “Who writes fiction this way?” I groan. “Look at how it’s written