Book Flyleaf Novels & Stories

Just me, the ticking silence, and my scrambled thoughts trying to untangle themselves. Then I looked to the floor where my packed bag sat, still slouched against the wall. My first instinct had been to grab the whole thing, just like I had a hundred times before, always running, always carrying everything on my back. But not this time. Instead, I leaned over, unzipped the front pouch, and reached inside. My fingers brushed against the leather-bound book I had slipped into my hands from the archives. The Flare Witches. Somehow, it felt heavier now, like it had absorbed all the weight I’d been carrying. I pressed it against my chest for a moment and then stood up.

Lyda flipped the book over to see if she was simply looking at the wrong side, but there was nothing on the back either. Curiosity getting the better of her, Lyda opened the book to the first thick parchment, blowing away the dust and dirt that littered the yellowing page. She wondered how old this book really was to have collected so much filth. Lyda slid the candle closer until she could make out some faded writing on the center of the page. It was written in the common tongue, but in a style that was almost too difficult to read. That did not stop Lyda, and her eyes lit up in astonishment. She had to read it over and over just to make sure she was seeing it right, squinting as she read th

“Hah! None of the men I know are particularly enticing, so I’ll pass. Putting that aside, here, take this. It may help you perform better in the future… Good luck!” Watching as Lea bolted off after handing her the book, Fabiola raised a slight brow before looking at the cover… and to her shock, it was entitled, ‘Seventy-two positions for you and your loved one’! What the fuck?! Still… Who was to say that she wouldn’t use this in the future? With that in mind, she quickly snuck the book into her pocket before pretending that nothing had ever happened…

Columns of faint silver light rose from the floor, rearranging the void until the space resembled something between a courtroom and a cathedral. At the center, a plinth formed. On it rested a book. It wasn’t the Great Ledger. It was a derivative. Smaller. Thinner. Personalized. My name wasn't written on the cover; it was embedded into the leather, as if the book had grown around the letters. I approached without hesitation. Each step felt lighter than the last, as if gravity were a luxury the system was slowly taking back. When I placed my palm against the cover, the sensation was immediate.

Lying in a hospital bed, I brought up divorce to Benedict Langley. Rubbing his temples in exhaustion, he sounded impatient. "I was up all night dealing with the fire in Norham and just lay down to rest, yet you drag me here for this? Is this some kind of joke?"

Mom shook her head. She looked at the brook under the bridge and said, "Some things should just flow away like the water under this bridge. I actually wanted to sneak away when your father's parents tried to split us up, but your father got on his knees before me and begged me not to leave.

He asked. Lexi worked at swallowing her potatoes first. She tapped the blue book on the table. "I was reading this book today. It's about a man named Martin that gets reanimated and he can hear a voice named Angel. Then he meets up with a girl named Carmen and they search for a dead body." "Dead bodies? What kind of books are you reading? Maybe you should stick to something with bunnies in it or something." Jack went to take the book from her. Lexi slapped her hand on the book. "No please, don't take it. I'm not finished yet." Her pleading eyes looked up at him.

“Yes sir!” the men replied. Once more, Zephyr laid his eyes on the books, his gaze rested on one of them. The book was covered in a layer of dust and was made of bamboo. It looked unique. “Thunderfoot?” Zephyr muttered as he opened the book, reading its contents. A wave of excitement washed over him. He excitedly flipped through the pages, carefully memorizing the technique’s intricate steps.

They went rolling down the mountain slope and the road was cleared. I removed the barricade and announced that the path was clear. I watched contentedly as Elsa drove smoothly towards St. Normans’. I didn’t go to St. Normans’ rather I went back to Dixonville. On reaching home I took out the book from under my jacket. I ran my hand over the cover of the book. I was about to throw it into the fire when I remembered that the book contained a picture of Prince Audrey. I couldn’t resist the temptation of seeing his picture. I swiftly turned to the page where his picture was printed. I couldn’t bring myself to burn the book with the picture. So I tore out that page folded it and kept it in my pock