Book Lovers Spice Level Novels & Stories

She saw a name written on the first page of the book. CLYDE JOHNSON DEL ESPANIA. She couldn't help but smile. What a perfect name for someone as handsome as him. It was as if the name was perfectly made for him. She closed the book and took her time to kiss it before she realized something. She could taste a hint of bitterness at the tip of her tongue. She even licked her lips to make sense of the taste. It was bitter, nothing like she'd ever tasted before. That was when she realized the state of the book just a few minutes before. She hadn't even wiped all of the dirt off her face, and there were still traces of it left on her lips!

She sighed, feeling more relaxed from the moment the scent surrounded her. “Vanillin,” he said. “Excuse me?” “The aroma of old books. It’s actually lignin—related to vanillin. It’s why used bookstores have that fragrance they do. I read about it”—he motioned to a book on a shelf to his left—“in a book.” He grinned. She looked him over—maybe a little older than she’d original thought, slightly scruffy, T-shirt with something about obscenities on the chest. “What sort of books do you like?” he asked.

sign. To distract myself, I turn back to the shelves. The smell of old books was like a drug to me now. It is a mix of cedar, dried ink, and a hint of the outdoors that people brought in on their coats. Having the freedom to browse these stacks is a luxury I hadn't enjoyed since I was a child. I reach out, running my fingers over the spine of a contemporary romance by Alyssa Cole. I lingered on the texture of the dust jacket, lost in the cover art and the weight of the story inside.

“Hey… about what you saw earlier.” She jumped, clutching the book to her chest. “I—I didn’t see anything. I swear. I won’t tell anyone.” I smiled softly and stepped even closer, backing her gently against the shelves. “Relax. Professor Harlan and I… we have an understanding. But I saw how you looked at us. You didn’t run away because you were scared. You ran because it turned you on, didn’t it?” Her cheeks burned brighter. She shook her head quickly. “No… that’s not… I’m not—”

I looked at Wyatt, who was appraising me with narrowed eyes. “What? She forgets I can smell her all over the books and I know what ones are naughty, because well ya know,” I leaned over and tossed him a book from the pile. I had started reading the backs of things so I purposely incorporated a little spice in her life. He looked at the title, then skimmed the back of the book, it was some mafia romance. His brows raised, I shrugged.

The light cast a soft glow over the spines of the books, creating an inviting ambience that beckoned Danial to explore further. As Danial walked between the shelves, he felt a sense of reverence and awe. It was as if the accumulated wisdom of generations whispered to him, inviting him to partake in its secrets. He reached out and touched the spine of one of the books, feeling the texture of the aged leather beneath his fingers. It was like touching a piece of history, a connection to the past

I giggled. "I think I'll read it too then." "You should. What's the next book?" "ENTER THE DRAGON by CLIVE CUSSLER." All the books were marked with a white X by the side so they were easier to find and place side by side. "Finally. YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN by JEAN HAFF KORELITZ." "That one's deep." All the books had one thing in common: they all had sprinkles and bits of thrillers in them.

Elara The paper glides between my fingers, thick as velvet, imbued with a scent that goes to my head—a blend of black rose and something darker, almost animal. The golden letters gleam under the flickering light of my candle, as if hypnotizing me. The Academy awaits you. Dare to cross the threshold. No signature. No seal. Just these words, traced in ink so black it seems to absorb the light around it.

He asks Tam back. "Oh yes, after a long day at work, there is nothing better than a glass of wine and a good book." She says. "Ohh ask her about the books please. She loves a perticularly interasting genre." Mira says with a grin. Tamaras choice in books is impecalbe if you like spice and questionable behavier. I couldn't help but laugh at Mira’s words, her teasing tone lightening the mood around the table. Tamara’s face flushed slightly, but she didn’t seem embarrassed, more like she was caught in the middle of something playful.

The faint scent of something dark and expensive lingering in the air wood, spice, something almost smoky. Elias ran a finger along the spines, scanning titles. History. Economics. Philosophy. Control disguised as curiosity, he thought absently. He crouched to reach the lower shelf, pulling out one book, then another. When he straightened, his elbow brushed the desk. Something slid. He caught it automatically before it hit the floor. A matchbook. Black. Matte. Thick cardstock. Elias stared at it. His pulse kicked hard enough to make his ears ring.