Book It's A Wonderful Life Novels & Stories

The queen asked, making herself home on the chair next to mine. I smiled sadly and handed her the book. “It's about a woman, or rather, the last few days of her life before she died from cancer.” “Sounds depressing, and yet so relatable. It's so funny how someone's life could be measured by what she did in her last days, as if she did not live a lifetime. I hope you won't mind lending me once you are finished.” She smiled and returned the book to me. “So, how are you? I heard about what happened last night.”

“But what I can say is that I love you more than life, Mrs. Wells.” “I love you too, Mr. Wells.” New book coming up: Don't Hate Me, Love Me Instead. Go check it out.

“The fact that you'd set all of this up for me just blows my mind. The dinner, the private chef, the plane tickets, this gorgeous cabin with the incredible view of Denver. It's like a dream.” “It's all just stuff, really,” he said with a shrug. The firelight danced across his skin, and all she wanted to do was touch it. “The stuff didn’t make it great. What actually made it great is the fact that you were there to enjoy it with me. That's the only thing that really matters.”

Until he could figure out who was watching them, he’d be careful. “Tell me about yourself, Lady Sarah. I’m certain you grow weary of hearing about my dreary life.” She smiled. “Oh, no. I could never get bored hearing about you. Besides—” She paused to look at her clasped hands, “—there really is not much to tell you about my life.” “You must be mistaken. After all, you are a governor’s daughter. What could be more exciting than that? I’m quite certain you have many stories to tell.”

I asked looking at little one. "Sometimes." Little one said in a soft voice, looking down. "Aunt Sophia, Elijah has a little book he keeps in his bag with his papa's number in it for emergency's." "Little one give me the book, I will call your papa. You and Marcus can play while I call you papa, okay." I said sticking my hand out to Elijah. Elijah took the little book out of his bag and gave it to me.

This is the story of a young man with a secret talent who plays good samaritan and finds himself at the center of a battle bigger than himself... but he won't be alone! At least that's part of the gist for now.😅 Now let's see how it goes… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "The ghosts in my house wouldn't be so bad if they could just stop trying to cook" which will not appear in this form because it's allowed to work around them and so I did.

I raised a hand and wiped the tears off my face. … [In the Next Life — January 1, 2024, 12:00 AM — I Hope You Live a Long Life, Part Three] William turned to the window. "Happy New Year." "Thanks." "Aren't you going to wish me something too?" I looked up. "You want a blessing from someone who's about to die?" His hand rested gently on my thin, dry one. "Please." I looked at the golden fireworks outside, as if I were bathing in hope. I smiled. "I hope you live a long life."

It contained a single book. “Woah! This is crazy,” Roger whispered. Lazarus walked up to the book, it was in a glass protective casing. “You didn’t know this was here, did you?” Velma asked. “No, I didn’t,” he clarified. Lazarus inspected the book. “What is it?” Nigel demanded. “It’s so beautiful,” Clarke admired. Lazarus gulped when he realized what it was. “It’s the Book of The God’s.”

"Aww a mini Lance. That's so adorable. And what's the book about." "About a girl falling for someone unexpected. The same guy that told her on her worst day that, one day a stranger will walk into her life and will flip her world upside down. And it will make her realize as to why it never worked out with anyone else but him." I smiled while looking at him in the crowd. "The book is called, My Personal BodyGuard. Based on true events." I smiled. Once my interview was over there was a meet and greet. I walked over there and there was a big line. It lasted about 2 hours.

She used to write about kindness in the journal she carried everywhere. Whenever life became overwhelming, I'd open one of those pages and remind myself that good people still existed. Standing here now... I was beginning to believe it again. "Aya?" Jamey's sleepy voice floated through the hallway. "In here!" A few seconds later, my younger brother wandered inside without looking where he was going, his nose buried inside a thick book. "Pancakes," he muttered automatically. Then his foot slammed into one of the stools. "Ouch." He looked up.