Book Flyleaf Novels & Stories

I muttered, rocking Jodie. I had to let Flavia focus, so I stepped away from her and let my eyes roam around the section, hoping I would find a few books myself. Despite the countless eye-catching books with captivating covers in that section, I couldn’t shift my gaze off one particular book because it stood out to me. “Of course, it does,” Liya grunted as we both looked at the dirty and half-torn small book. “Anyone would have missed that because it is insignificant, but not you, Haylee.”

Señor Ramirez boomed. Drago ignored him and stared at the Golden Leaf in awe. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his face serious and focused. “2…2…1…2,” he whispered. Golden sparkles burst out as the Leaf glowed more intensely, its glimmering rays almost blinding us. Drago smiled in triumph. He reached his hand out and gently lifted the Golden Leaf from its position. There were a few moments of silence as our breaths were snatched away by the sheer elegance and majesty of the extraordinary object.

I picked up the quill and wrote carefully: ‘Sable Howl Pack. Nothing happened. I bit my lip, thinking. Then I wrote a question instead. ‘Where are we now?’ The page shimmered faintly, then, like a breath exhaled, letters began to appear: ‘You are traveling through the Drowleaf Forest, a land untouched by man but watched by many.’ I blinked, the quill hadn’t moved, but the words appeared all the same. This book was alive. I turned back to it and wrote slowly: ‘What are you?’

I opened it and found myself entering a smaller version of the library downstairs. There was no swirling staircase going up, up, up, rather walls full of books, some of which were only accessible via the sliding ladder off to the side. With my stomach full and heart heavy, I waltzed over to one of the shelves and scanned them, intending to pick a book at random. One in particular drew my eye. The cover was made of dark leather, embossed with a swirling gold font that was a bit hard to read. Tendrils of flame, interwoven with threads of shadow, danced up the spine and around the back.

Page by page. the book disappeared. The woman gasped. "The White Book..." "It's gone." The First Reader quietly shook his head. "No." "It has become something greater." The glowing particles gathered around Adrian's right hand. Slowly... they transformed into a simple white feather. No cover. No pages. No ink. Only a feather. Elias looked at it and whispered, "So the Book has finally chosen its final form." Adrian held the feather carefully. It felt almost weightless. Yet memories flooded through his mind.

"You still refuse to confess until the evidence is right in front of you, huh? "You ought to know that we've found the hotel booking records and restored your phone data, which indicated that you clearly arranged a meeting with Diana at the hotel. What do you have to say for yourself, Levi?" I stared at the printouts of the hotel bookings and the message logs while my head throbbed—none of this occurred in my past life. I couldn't help but wonder who could have orchestrated it all.

He tugged at my hand, leading me to the swimming pool. It was winter, and the water was freezing. The moment I stepped in, the cold pierced through me. But when I saw the pleading look in his eyes, I kept searching, diving down again and again. However, there was nothing. I looked up and asked him, "Luca, are you sure you dropped it here? I can't see anything. What does it look like?" "It's a small golden car. Please, Aunt Shannon. I'm begging you." Clenching my teeth, I dove back into the water. I didn't know how long I had been searching when I suddenly heard Vivian's voice. "Luca, what are you doing here?"

"I hope you understand the level of trust we're bestowing." They were silent a beat before Brady cleared his throat. "May I?" He gestured to the book. She glanced at Fiona for approval, then nodded. Kaida met him at the stand. The book was leather-bound and had a trinity knot etched on the cover. It was at least six inches thick and the uneven papers were aged to a cream color. Carefully, she opened it and found a pentagram on the first page, along with the name "Galloway" written in quill ink.

Rowyn POV “This one looks ancient as fuck,” I muttered, dragging a dusty, leather bound beast of a book towards me. The cover had a silver sigil that pulsed faintly, like it was breathing. Kyren leaned over. “It’s humming.” “No shit,” I said, flipping it open. Aster whistled low. “Uh… Rowyn? That page is glowing.” Yeah. No kidding. The script wrote itself as we watched, ink blooming across the yellowed parchment like spilled wine.

There was no way it wouldn't end in a very ugly way. And despite the growing need to show him that I was there, and that no other girl who answered his Stories was more interesting than me, I also didn't want to make it clear to him that I would be available at any time to answer his messages, but I couldn't pretend to myself that I was at the mercy of someone I barely knew, and it was very wrong to admit God forgive me, but I judged a book a lot by its cover. And Flynn Ashton's book seemed to me like the bible, so angelic that man seemed to me.